Chapter 2 : Defense Against the Dark Arts
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He watched as the students came in one by one, each looking around the room, fixing their eyes on the unusual: posters of dementors being chased by a Patronus, bottles of strange liquids on a shelf in the window, and a great portrait of a smiling Albus Dumbledore. In just a few moments the eager children had found their seats and were fully attentive to what would happen next. Harry spoke.
"Good morning, everyone. Welcome to your first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. My name is Harry Potter." At his name a few people let out excited little squeaks, and his face turned a little red. He could never get used to it.
"I don't want to bore you on your first day with a bunch of rules and the class silibus, but I do want to start the class off by saying that nothing you learn in this room is to be taken lightly. It is not to be used against your friends for fun, and never to be used against someone in malice. Magic is a beautiful, incredible thing, but it can also be very deadly. You should only use these spells when Absolutely necessary. Using these spells in a frivolous manner will have you expelled from Hogwarts, and the Ministry will break your wand. I'm not trying to frighten you, but I am an Auror, and must make it as clear as possible to you that even the simplest spell or charm can be very deadly."
He saw a wide eyed Albus in the front row, and couldn't help but let out a smile. He had used magic as little as possible around his sons, because he thought if they grew up around it, it wouldn't be as fascinating to them as it had been to Harry, and he wanted them to feel the same excitement. With that thought he pulled his wand from his robes and turned to the board.
"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, today to start off, we will be learning a simple disarming charm." As he spoke he waved his wand, and the word Expelliarmus appeared on the blackboard.
"This is a very simple charm, but one that can save your life. I have used this on many occasions where it did, in fact, save mine. We won't be using books in this room, by the way, so you can put those away and pull out your wands."
Once everyone's wands were out Harry looked around the room and asked for a volunteer. Immediately, a brown haired girl waved her hand high in the air and Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Of course, Mrs. Weasley. I should have known. Your mother's genetics would have it no other way. Come on up."
And little Rose Weasley ran to the front of the class, wand held fixed in front of her.
"Now what you want to do is to wave and flick, while simultaneously..."
And he was stopped short by his wand being pulled out of his hand by a perfectly executed Expelliarmus charm. He thought to himself while he took his wand back from the gleaming witch that Hermione had really outdone herself this time. If Severus Snape had thought that She was bad, he would have hated her daughter.
He decided it was probably a good idea to get another volunteer, so he complimented her on a job well done, and sent her back to her seat. A mousy brown haired boy nervously raised his hand, and Harry called on him, thinking he had seen those freckles somewhere...
"What is your name, young man?"
"Franklin Longbottom, sir."
"You're Neville Longbottom's son?"
"Wonderful! Your father is a brilliant, brave wizard, and a very dear friend of mine," Harry said, to which Neville turned as red as a pheonix. "Take my wand, Mr. Longbottom."
Little Franklin Longbottom looked nervous, and then pulled up his sleeves and took a deep breath. He raised his wand and shouted "Expelliarmus!", and sparks shot out of the tip of his wand, hitting Harry in the chest and knocking him to the ground. He awoke a moment later with the students gathered around him, Albus looking terrified, and Rose trying to console Franklin, who was crying that he had killed Harry Potter.
He slowly sat up, the room spinning, and Albus helped him to stay upright. After clutching his head for a moment the room became still again and he was able to assure Franklin Longbottom that he was alright.
When class was over he held an ice bag on the back of his head and it dawned on him that being a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher may be the most dangerous assignment he'd ever had as an Auror.
A flurry of feathers flew through the window and crashed into Harry, almost landing him on the owlery floor, a fate worse than death. He breathed a sigh of relief and took the note from the bulky owl's leg. It was a note from Ron.
Hello, mate. How are things going at Hogwarts? Is it weird? Is McGonagall still scary? How's Rose? Has she driven all the teachers half mad yet? Hermione went through those spells with her all Summer, simply rotted the poor child's brain. You like the owl? We just got him. I thought we could use a good owl. Quite a leap from old Errol, eh?
Harry looked at the massively muscular owl that was staring intently with its beak open at a loose feather hanging over its forehead.
About the question you asked me before you left... Harry, if you think there's reason to worry I believe you. You give me the word and I'll be there.
In the meantime, Hermione says to tell Rose it's flick and switch. And hello.
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