Smile

"Hello, class. My name is Faye Potter. You may know of my father, Harry Potter. Have any of you heard of him?" I looked over the class of little first years. They seemed excited and a little nervous about their first History of Magic class. I watched with a smile as every member of the class raised their hands.

"I thought you would," I told them. "Now, which one of you can tell me why Harry Potter is famous?"

A little blonde-haired boy raised his hand slowly. I smiled at him. "Can you tell us why Harry Potter is famous?"

"He killed the Dark Lord," the boy said quietly.

"That's correct. What's your name?"

"Steven Monroe," he replied.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Monroe. Now," I turned my attention to the whole class. "How many of you have parents who were at school here when the Dark Lord was defeated?"

Quite a few small hands went up, including Steven Monroe.

"I see," I said quietly, more to myself than the class. I took up a piece of parchment from the desk behind me. "I would like to begin to match names to faces - when I call your name, please reply 'present'."

I taught classes every day and kept myself busy. I could remember distinctly what my own History of Magic classes had been like. We had Professor Binns teaching, and he was incredibly boring (although I do remember days when when my father would come into a History of Magic class and talk about the Second War. Those were my favorite days.) Sitting through his classes, I always told myself that if I ever taught the subject, I would make it exciting. And that's what I tried to do.

My brother, Kyle, taught Potions. He was four years older than me and the Head of Slytherin. I was the Head of Gryffindor. There weren't any bad feelings between us, as might be expected; after my father re-opened Hogwarts, he made Slytherins just like the other three houses. It didn't generate evil witches and wizards as it had before, and house rivalry was practically nonexistent.

It was in December, and my classes had ended for the day. It was snowing outside, and my classroom was cold, so I lit a fire in the fireplace before sitting down at my desk to grade papers. I was just grading a 'Yuma Finch' paper, when there was a knock on my classroom door.

"Come in. It's open," I said, not looking up from my papers.

"Well, well. Here I find my sister, grading papers as usual." It was my brother, Kyle. He was tall but not lanky. He had our father's untidy black hair and our mother's own brown eyes. He looked much like our father's father. I, on the other hand, looked like my father's mother: red hair and green eyes.

"And shouldn't you be doing the same?" I asked him, still grading papers.

"I just have to test potions, and I like to do that at night," he told me, sitting on a desk directly in front of mine.

"Oh, I see. So why have you come to bother me?"

"I was sent by the Headmistress," he said, sounding rather smug. Hearing that tone, I stopped grading and looked up at him. "She asked me to remind you about student/teacher relationships."

I glared at him. "What about them?"

"Well, our dear Mistress has heard some of the boys here talking about you."

"And?"

"Don't you get it, Faye?" He got up from his seat and put his hands on my desk. "All of the boys here just swoon over you! You're the prettiest, youngest teacher here!"

Of course, I had heard -- this many times. "I know that, Kyle. Why are you telling me?"

"Just wanted to remind you."

"Why?"

"Just in case."

" 'Just in case'? Do you think I would have an affair with a student?! You must be out of your mind! Have you been drinking?"

My brother and I stared at each other for what seemed like several minutes, without blinking. Then there was a light knock on the door.

"Come in," I called. A sixth year boy came in, looking rather scared.

"I can come back later if I'm interrupting something, Miss Potter," he said.

"No, no, Charlie. My brother was just leaving," I told the boy. My brother looked at me.

"No affairs?" he asked.

"I'm tutoring him in Charms," I said in a whisper.

"Why can't another student do that?"

"Because they all make fun of him," I hissed. "Now leave."

He did as he was told and Charlie sat down at a desk. I sat down beside him.

"Now, what are we working on today?" I asked him.

"Um, the Shrinking Charm," he said, pulling out his wand.

"Ahh, that's a tricky one," I said, getting up. I picked up a paperweight and set it on the desk. "Try it on this."

He nodded and chanted the spell. Instead of shrinking, it turned blue with purple spots.

"That's alright," I said, swishing my wand and turning it back into a grey paperweight. "I think that it's how you're using your wrist. Let's try it again," I said, getting up to stand behind him. I put my hand over his on his wand, and as he said the incantation, I moved his wrist in the proper way. To his amazement, the paperweight grew smaller.

"There you go," I said, sitting next to him again. "Now you just need to practice that."

He nodded, then looked down at his hands.

"Charlie, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he mumbled.

"It can't be just nothing. I'm the head of your house and I want you to talk to me when things are bothering you."

"I heard you and Mr. Potter talking about you and the students here," he said, looking up at me.

"What about it?"

"Just that he said that you can't have an affair with any of the students and how all the boys here like you."

I nodded and he continued.

"Well, it's true."

"What's true?"

"All the boys here? They think that you're the most gorgeous woman to ever teach here."

This surprised me. I had known that the boys at Hogwarts thought I was pretty, but hearing it directly from one of them was shocking.

"And they say things."

"What kind of things?" I asked him gently.

"Their favorite thing to say is that you have a smile that can light up the room and it's brighter than the sun."

"Oh, I see." I couldn't help but enjoy hearing that small compliment. "And are you one of those boys, Charlie?"

"Yes, ma'am but I would never-"

"I know. You don't have to explain yourself. Now, why don't you go off to the common room and practice that spell, alright?"

He nodded, jumped up and practically out the door. When he left I sat down at behind my desk and sighed. As nice as it was to hear that compliment, I knew that it was wrong to have an affair with a student. I would never break that rule (aside from anything else, my father strongly enforced it). But as I crawled into bed that night, I couldn't help but repeat what Charlie had said:

"I have a smile that can light up the room and it's brighter than the sun."