Greatheart's Den

I always wanted Harry to do a bit of teaching at Hogwarts. Would be interested to see what you can do with the story.

This is chapter 4, a look at Harry Potter's first day as a Hogwarts instructor.

4 - First Day of Class

Tom Wollston and his classmates were talking softly, nervously in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom. The walls were undecorated, the curtains a neutral shade of gray. Chairs were placed in a circle around the center of the room. There were no student desks, no bookshelves, no teacher's desk. It was a room devoid of distractions, devoid of anything to catch the eye.

At precisely nine, the door opened. Professor Harry Potter walked in.

"Sit down, please.”

The sixth years nervously took chairs. Potter walked around the room, hands behind his back, observing silently. Eleven anxious young faces looked back.

"Well," he began, "This will not be an ordinary class in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Your long-term education in this subject includes jinxes and counter jinxes, curses and how to stop them, a bunch of dangerous spells to beware of, dueling, and learning when to run away."

He smiled briefly at that last. A few students laughed momentarily, then went quiet as he continued.

"No, what we'll cover is no joking matter. And it's fairly advanced. I don't expect any of you to master it this year. And I'll be telling this same exact thing to the the other classes later today. Some subjects, some skills, are seldom truly mastered. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't study them. Quite the contrary. Some skills are so valuable that we should keep trying, even if it takes half a lifetime to learn them.”

His voiced softened. "I failed my first time, back when I was a fifth year. It got a close friend killed and nearly killed me. I hated my teacher. I thought I was doing good by not heeding his words. And after all these years I'm still nowhere nearly as good as he was. I doubt anyone ever will be.”

His eyes were staring off into the distance, into some memory. Abruptly, he blinked and looked at them all.

"This year we will be working mainly on one skill. Our study will be the art and skill of Occlumency."

Tom raised his hand. "Sir?"

"Yes, Wollston, isn't it? Tom. "

"Yes, sir, what is this 'occlumency' thing? I mean, if it's so important, how come I've never heard of it?"

Harry looked at him until the class was murmuring and smiling.

"No, it's a good question. The answer is complicated. Has anyone ever heard of 'Legilmency'?"

When nobody answered, he sighed. "Legilmency is the art of looking into the mind and emotions of another, without their permission. Imagine someone looking into all your secrets, all your embarrassing moments, every little thing you're ashamed of." He smiled again. "Every cookie you ever stole when Mom wasn't looking." The class laughed again.

He got serious again. "Imagine an enemy finding out what really hurts you. How to take what you love most and use it to torture you. Imagine him learning who you care about most, and hurting them, just to hurt you, to make you weak, to make you beg him to stop."

The class sat motionless. All sign of laughter was gone from their faces now.

"That's what a powerful legilmens can do. Like Lord Voldemort did." Again he stared off into memory for a moment.

"And that's what Occlumency teaches you to stop. That is why it's so important, and one of the hardest skills to master. Only one man ever stood up to the power of Voldemort's probing, concealing his deepest, truest thoughts from the most powerful legilmens ever, working against him. He tried to teach me, and I will try to teach you."

He smiled once more. "And I hope you won't be as difficult a bunch of students as I once was.”

The students were exchanging glances around the circle. A girl with curly, dark hair spoke up.

"Sir, why do we need it? I mean, who's out there doing this legilmency on people?"

"Good question. And you are?”

"Linda. Linda MacMillan, sir.”

"Ernie's daughter? Yes, you look like him. Tell me, does he know you got into his fire whiskey last year at Christmas?”

She gasped. "Er, yes, I mean no, I mean yes, he's my Dad, and no, he doesn't know about...and how did you DO that?”

The Professor smiled again. "Sorry about that. And don't worry, I haven't seen Ernie in years, your secret is safe. Yes, I know he's told you he knew me back when we were both here. It's true. He was my student, too, when we formed an illegal study class in defense.”

The class looked at her with wide eyes. Apparently she'd never mentioned this part of her parent's life. Harry looked around at the others. "You, George, right? Your mother is Ellen, she works in the ministry, right?"

"Yes, sir, umm, you know her?”

"Slightly. She works in archives. I really don't deal with them often. And get rid of those fanged frisbees under your bunk." The slim blond boy named George gasped. "And you, Marguerite, that box of cookies under your bed? Share them with your friends." The short, plump girl with glasses turned beet red as two other girls stared at her.

Harry smiled yet again. "Luckily, I'm not a Death Eater. Or any other kind of dark wizard. But your minds are like open books to someone who cares to learn how to read. And let me assure you, one of the skills dark wizards prize most, is not how to poison someone, or even how to use Unforgivable Curses. No, it's how to control others. Through shame. Through fear. Through guilt. Through any form of weakness they can find. And in case you don't know it, there are still dark wizards in this world. They keep the Aurors quite busy. And some of you will meet one someday. So, my job is to help you prepare for that day. Then maybe you'll survive it. Without becoming slaves.”

The girl named Marguerite spoke up. "Slaves, sir?”

"What would you call it, when you do exactly what your told? Or misdirected to do? Or manipulated to do? When someone else controls you and uses you to do things you'd rather not? A 'slave' doesn't necessarily get bought and sold. He doesn't have a bill of sale. But his life is not his own.”

"Our time is about up today. Your homework for tonite is just this, to think about what someone nasty could do, to control you, if they could see inside you and discover what makes you tick. When you've decided that you don't want that to happen, you'll be ready to start. Class dismissed."

As you can see, this story was pretty dark!

Dark indeed, but could be worth finishing.

The courage of Slytherin

“Slytherin!” the Sorting Hat exclaimed.

A slender young boy, with dark tousled hair, gave a shy smile. His friend had mentioned, on the Hogwarts Express, that she hoped to be placed in Gryffindor.

“Courage, that’s what matters most, Sev. Gryffindor is where the bravest students go, to make their mark.”

“I don’t know about that. But maybe we’ll both get placed in the same House, Lily.”

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“Coward? That stupid boy. As arrogant as his father, as arrogant as all those stupid Gryffindors.

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What is braver? To face the danger, or to face the unknown in the darkness? Answer me that, and you’ll what courage is. Those who fear the dark, while claiming to hate it, can they truly claim bravery?

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“…was a Slytherin, and he was the bravest man I ever knew.”