The following story is a sequel to "Harry's Future". IT IS IMPORTANT TO READ "HARRY'S FUTURE" FIRST, OTHERWISE THIS STORY WON'T MAKE MUCH SENSE. It is of course based on the original characters and backdrops created by J.K. Rowling. Enjoy.

Professor Potter, Chapter 1

"I am Harry James Potter and I stand before you as the greatest wizard on life. I proclaim myself your lord and king."

Professor Harry Potter stood before his class of fifth year Applied Magic students on the first day of classes of the new term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was his first class as a full time professor. He had waited until all his students had found seats and then walked in and with a wave of his wand closed all the window blinds and dimmed the lights. He strode to the raised dais upon which his desk sat and held his wand aloft and muttered 'lumos' to provide a bright spotlight for himself.

After making his pronouncement he looked down at the faces of the young witches and wizards sitting in the dim light, many with mouths open and all with eyes wide. He scowled down at them and demanded,

"Why do you sit there and stare like that? Isn't what I say true? Have I not defeated two powerful dark wizards? Have I not killed a dragon by the power of my magic alone? Have I not created new ways of teaching magic? Why should I not be the king of wizardom?"

Some of the wide open eyes blinked in confusion and one brave soul raised a wavering hand and said,

"Because that's not who you are, sir. You're Harry Potter, sir."

"Of course, I'm Harry Potter. I've only just said that. Why would I say these things if they weren't true?" he insisted.

A low voice from the back of the room said,

"Because you fell off your broom and landed on your head?"

The several gasps that followed this suggestion were low but were deafening in comparison to the silence that fell afterwards. Harry brightened his wand with a thought and the whole room was flooded with white light. He thought he knew who had suggested the head injury and when he looked at him, the young wizard flushed and his eyes darted away but the words had their effect. Harry's stern visage softened and he laughed a bit. He extinguished the light and with a casual flick of his ironwood wand he opened the blinds and brought the lights up, filling the room with a more friendly illumination.

"Considering my history, that's not such a farfetched idea, Mr. Kingsforth. But no, I haven't done that recently so we need to look elsewhere. Would anyone care to suggest what my reasoning was?" Harry asked in his usual tone of voice.

"Um, you were having a go at us, sir?" the young witch who had originally spoken offered.

"It is true that I'm in a good mood and very happy to be back here for the start of the new term, but that's only a small part of it. Anyone else?" he asked.

A wizard sitting towards the front said,

"You're trying to teach us something."

"Correct," Harry said as he pulled over the stool that he usually sat on in front of the class when he was lecturing. "I realize that's a terrible thing for a teacher to do, particularly so early into the first day of class, but there we are. So what am I trying to teach you?

"The likelihood of a dark witch or wizard openly proclaiming themselves in such a manner is pretty small. Even then it would most probably only come after a lot of preparation had been done in secrecy. Our old friend Tom Riddle, the late Lord Voldemort, spent decades learning what he needed to know, gathering in his followers and laying his plans before he became an open threat, and even then it was only acknowledged by a relative handful of people who tried to oppose him. Even his short lived takeover of the Ministry was accomplished through surrogates," Harry said looking at the faces in front of him.

"The signs that something is afoot are likely to be little things. Someone's changed behavior, comments that don't ring true, and so on. These are the kinds of things that we have to pay attention to."

"But how are we supposed to know if it's something to do with the dark arts and not just someone acting odd because they're just odd?" a young witch asked.

"That's a very good question, Miss Jones. And unfortunately I don't have a very good answer for you. You are right. Sometimes something that strikes us as out of the ordinary or suspicious is just that, out of the ordinary. But once you hear it you should pay attention and see if it's more than that. One thing I will tell you though, is that you should trust your feelings. If something seems wrong to you, it probably is."

From the looks he was getting he could tell that the impact of his opening dramatics had worn off and he launched into his prepared lecture, punctuated often by questions and comments from the students, just the way he liked it.

His second class of the morning was his first class ever for Transfiguration. Over the summer he had been going over his textbook and old notes and had had a number of communications with the Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, and he felt he had things in hand, but he was still just a touch nervous. In this case he was able to get to the classroom before the first years arrived and he was sitting on the edge of the desk as they entered.

"Hello there, first years. Welcome to Transfiguration. Please find a seat and we'll get started."

It was a mixed group of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors and based on their expressions, about a third looked like they were from non magical families. The youngsters took their seats and sat expectantly looking at Harry.

"Good morning. I'm Professor Potter and this, of course, is Transfiguration. Would anyone like to tell us what transfiguration is?" he asked with a smile.

Several hands went up and Harry picked a Hufflepuff wizard near the front of the class. He was a wiry redhead that reminded Harry of a young Ron Weasley. The boy stood up and said,

"Transfiguration is using magic to make something into something else. Um, sir."

"That's right, very good, and your name, please?" Harry asked.

"Um, it's Winston, sir, Philip Winston."

"Thank you, Mr. Winston, well done you," he said then looked to the others. "Simply put that's exactly right, when you transfigure something, you use magic to turn one thing into another. Now, you might ask yourself why would you want to change one thing into another? One answer would be if you only have a needle and you need a match it would be helpful, I suppose, to know how to change one into the other," he said as he held up a needle and with a flick of his wand turned it into a wooden match.

This demonstration got a number of 'oohs' and 'aahs' as well as a 'cool'. One young witch sitting towards the back had a look of concentration and then raised her hand.

"Yes?" Harry said.

"Um, excuse me, sir, but if I had my wand and needed to light something, couldn't I just use it instead of making a match?"

"Yes, you could. On the other hand, if you had the match and needed the needle to sew something up, your wand wouldn't be a very good substitute but your point is well taken and it brings me to the other reason why we'll work on such things," he said putting down the match and tucking his wand away as he began to slowly pace along the aisles between the desks.

"Transfiguration is more than just being able to make one thing into another. Quite frankly, with a wand and good mastery of Charms you'd be able to do most anything that way than by having to make something you needed. What is truly important about transfiguration is that it teaches you how to go about working with magic in a way that is not just remembering the name of a charm and how to wave your wand. Let me see," Harry said. "I assume all of you have had some schooling in maths, correct?"

Everyone nodded.

"I don't suppose anyone doubted why it was important to learn how to do the basics like addition, subtraction and so on. But what about some of the other things like sets and unions and word problems and so forth? Did you ever wonder or ask why you needed to know that?" he asked.

A number of the students nodded.

"And what were you told when you asked?"

"I was told that if I wanted to be an engineer or a scientist I needed to know all that sort of stuff," a young wizard that was among those Harry thought were non magical born replied.

"Ok, yes, that's part of it, anyone else?" he prompted.

No one else offered anything more.

"Well, I was told that even if you never used all that 'other stuff' again learning how to use it would teach you how to solve all kinds of problems. It would teach you how to look at a big problem, and I don't necessarily mean a maths problem, and to be able to break it into smaller pieces and solve those little pieces and then you'd have the big problem solved. Transfiguration is like that. It teaches you how to look at the magic you want to make, in this case, what do I have and what do I want it to become, and how to work your way through that process."

Harry was saying this as he moved amongst the students who were turning their heads and watching him intently. Unseen in the room, as she was sitting atop a tall cabinet, tucked back into the shadows near the wall, was a striped cat with marks around its eyes that looked curiously like spectacles. At the moment she was doing all she could to keep from purring aloud.

"So, what I want you to do is pick up the needle that is on the desk in front of you, and please be careful not to poke yourself, and just look at it. Fix the image of the needle in your mind so that if you close your eyes you'll still be able to see it. Take a few minutes and work on that."

After some time was spent on the needle, Harry put out a match for each student and had them work on fixing the image of the match in their minds. Now came the hard part. He asked them to try and imagine how the process would look where the needle slowly changed into the match. To help them he worked the transfiguration process slowly so they could see how the needle expanded in size and the look of it changed.

He then had them take out their wands and after explaining how to apply the wand to the needle had them try making the change. As expected only two were able to get any kind of change going and in those cases it was only partial. After watching and some coaching, Harry brought them to a stop.

"Ok, everyone, that's enough for today. I'd like to ask you all a question. How many of you have what would be considered an artistic temperament? By that I mean do you draw or paint or play a musical instrument."

About a third of the students raised their hands, including the two who managed a partial change. Harry nodded and said,

"Transfiguration is very much a part of the art of magic. Even though I used the maths analogy before it's very much about visualization and even a healthy dose of imagination. For those of you who just raised your hand, I'd think that part of it was easier for you than the others. I ask that you share that with your classmates and help them. I also know someone who's very good, gifted in fact, with regard to visualizing and I think I can get her to help us out, but for now try and work on it together. Alright? Good. That's enough for today. For homework make sure you have read through chapter one in your text and answer the questions at the end. Off you go and enjoy the rest of your day."

Harry watched as the students gathered their things and filed out of the room. He collected up the matches and needles and in the case of the two that were semi transfigured he turned them back to true needles. He then gathered his own things and made his way to the door. Just before he exited he looked towards the shadow on top of the cabinet and with a half smile said,

"And a very good day to you, Headmistress."

He smiled wider when he heard the startled 'meep' and then left the room. Once the room was empty a silver tabby cat appeared from the shadow atop the cabinet and with a series of jumps from cabinet to table to chair to floor she made her way to the dais and in a moment the Headmistress, Professor McGonagall was standing before her desk.

"A good day indeed, the young rascal," she said but all the time smiling.

Harry made his way to the Great Hall for lunch, working his way through the increasing flow of students. He exchanged a number of greetings from students he knew and a number he didn't recognize but who obviously knew him. As he made his way to his seat at the faculty table he exchanged greetings with the other professors, especially with Bill and Hagrid.

"Hullo, Harry. How's that godson o' mine getting' along?" Hagrid asked.

"He's doing fine, Hagrid, but I think he's getting impatient for visit from his uncle Rubeus," Harry replied with a grin.

"Oh, aye, it has been awhile. A Sat'rday would be alright?"

"That would be fine, Hagrid. You're always welcome, you know that."

"Oh, aye, Harry, I knows it. I'll work summat out and let yas know."

Harry smiled and then turned to say hello to his brother in law. Bill had a quizzical smile on his scarred face.

"So, King Harry is it?" Bill asked.

"Heard about that already have you?" Harry replied with a laugh.

"Your fifth years for Applied Magic come to me for DADA right after. Quite a buzz when they came into the classroom. It was all I could do to keep from laughing while they explained it to me," Bill said.

Harry just smiled and shrugged.

"I thought it was a good way to get their attention on the first day back and to make my point. Plus it was kind of fun. A few of them looked like their eyes were going to fall out of their heads," he concluded with a laugh.

Bill couldn't help but laugh as well. Something attracted Harry's attention at the moment and it was the flash of lightening across the magical ceiling of the Great Hall. He looked up and saw that during the morning heavy clouds had moved in and a heavy rain was falling. He was going to have to alter his plans for his next class, his first years DADA class. This was no day for a field trip to the memorial park where the Shrieking Shack once stood. Fortunately he had contingencies already planned.

Once lunch had concluded Harry began making his way to the DADA classroom to await the class' arrival. On the way out of the Hall he caught sight of Abagail who had been watching him leave. She waved and gave him a small smile and he waved back. He thought back to when he had first seen her as a shy, frail looking first year. While she had not grown much taller she had grown in so many other ways. What he saw today was a young woman, quietly confident and possessed of significant talents, both artistic and psychic, underscored by a profound intellect. And despite her robes it was evident she was a fully grown young woman. Harry shook his head a little and thought he was still too young to have to deal with these fatherly issues but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Despite his musings he still managed to get to the room ahead of his students. This session was made up of Gryffindors and Slytherins. As they settled in it appeared that it was about a two to one margin for the Gryffindors. It looked like it would be a few years before Slytherin was back to normal numbers, Harry thought.

"Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Professor Potter and I'll be your teacher this year. I hope you are all prepared for an interesting year. This first year will be an introduction to Defense Against the Dark Arts. You will learn about the basics of the Darks Arts, what they are, where you might run into them and what people and creatures make use of them. You will also begin to learn how to defend against them."

Harry paused and looked around the room to see if he still had everyone's attention, which he had. He began to slowly walk among the students as he resumed speaking.

"Those of you who come from magical families are probably quite familiar with the concept of what the Dark Arts are although you're probably a bit young to really remember what occurred during the last years of Lord Voldemort, or Tom Riddle as he was originally known. If the weather had cooperated we would already be on our way down to the memorial park where the last victims of his reign of terror were laid to rest. We will make that trip but it will have to wait a day or two. But I imagine that many of you are already familiar with that story. For those of you who aren't, you'll learn more as the year goes on but I can say right now that our community is still recovering from the affects of those years, decades in fact, and will be for some time to come. It is my hope that as a result of our time together and your hard work during your time here at Hogwarts that we can prevent such a thing from happening again."

Harry was about to continue by calling the role when a voice interrupted him.

"My Da says he thinks the whole business of Voldemort was completely over blown."

The room got very quiet as all heads turned in the direction of the voice. It had come from a dark haired boy in Slytherin colors sitting towards the back of the class. His expression was neutral, as if he had casually remarked on the inclement weather.

"That's a very interesting observation. And your name would be?" Harry asked evenly.

"Dickerson, sir, Davey Dickerson."

"I see. Well, Mr. Dickerson, I can't say that I agree with your father's comments, but since I don't know what his understanding of those events is I can't really argue with them, but I can tell you that hundreds of people died or disappeared, my parents included, and many more lives were ruined by Riddle and his followers. Since your father is aware of these events I assume he is a wizard?"

"No, sir. My mum is a witch but Da knows all about the wizarding world. He works for a big company and we've only just come back from the continent where he was working for the past fifteen years. If he hadn't gotten the promotion that brought us to the UK I probably would have gone to Beauxbaton."

"Well, that being the case, I'd have to say that I think your dad is woefully uninformed of what was going on here in those days and perhaps you'll have the opportunity to enlighten him based on what you learn here," Harry said. "With that in mind would you stay behind for a bit after class is over so I can have a word with you?"

"Um, yes, sir."

"Alright everyone, if I can have your attention up here," Harry said, trying to get things back on track.

He noticed that some of the looks that had been directed towards Dickerson were cause for concern on his part and one of the 'lookers' seemed vaguely familiar. He checked his role sheet and a name stood out and gave him a bit of a shrinking feeling that there might be trouble ahead. Unfortunately he was right and it occurred two days later.

Harry's schedule worked out so that he would remain at Hogwarts on Monday and Thursday nights. On Wednesday afternoon he had an Applied Magic Class last period. Afterwards he spent some time at his desk going through some notes and upcoming homework assignments before heading to the little house in Hogsmeade and the Floo Network ride home. As he was pulling on his cloak he heard what sounded like scuffling in the corridor. With a couple of quick steps he was out the classroom door and could see what was causing the noise. Four students had a fifth backed up against the wall opposite of where Harry stood. Two of the four had wands out.

"What's all this then?" Harry asked in quiet yet penetrating voice.

All five students froze in place. The one against the wall looked at him and Harry could see it was Dickerson.

"Put those wands away and turn around," Harry added.

The two wands disappeared inside robes and then the four turned around to face Harry, flinching at the hard green eyes that were boring into them.

"Explain."

What he got was several loud gulps and four sets of very wide eyes. He also saw Dickerson trying to slide sideways along the wall.

"Stand your ground, if you please, Mr. Dickerson."

Looking back at the four Gryffindors he said,

"I believe I asked you for an explanation."

One of the four tried to give Harry a defiant look but it soon vanished under the onslaught of his glare and the boy simple stammered out,

"He was spouting off that rubbish about Voldemort again, sir."

Harry sighed, as he had surmised this was the likely cause of the confrontation. His gaze once more fell on the young Slytherin then returned to the Gryffindors.

"Regardless of Dickerson's opinions, or in this case, his father's, violence in the corridors is hardly the way to address them. And it most certainly shouldn't require four of you. I'll expect you to promptly report this to your head of house and you can expect that I will be seeing him tomorrow morning to make sure you have."

Harry could see the looks of anxiety on the faces of the Gryffindors and he could feel for them but this sort of behavior couldn't be overlooked. His expression softened has he looked at the student who had spoken.

"Look, Creevey…Derek, I think you can appreciate that I would understand how you feel about this. But, this is not the way to handle it. Hexing or beating someone up in a corridor is a very poor way to try and change their minds. I suggest you go find Professor Weasley and explain what went on here and believe me when I say that I will be discussing it with him in the morning. Mr. Dickerson, in my classroom, if you please."

Harry watched as the four Gryffindors made their way down the corridor at a not quite run. Dickerson edged his way around Harry and walked into the classroom. Harry followed him and said,

"Take a seat."

The young Slytherin sat at the nearest desk and looked at Harry expectantly.

"Mr. Dickerson, I thought that I had impressed upon you during our discussion after class on Monday just how sensitive most people around here are about the topic of Lord Voldemort. I believe I strongly suggested you refrain from saying much about it until you've had time to learn about what truly occurred. Didn't I?"

"Yes, sir."

"So, would you care to explain what prompted all this?" Harry asked.

"Um, well, sir, I was just talking to a couple of the other Slytherins as we were leaving lunch and I guess I mentioned it and that Gryffindor, um, Creevey, heard me and shouted something about you telling me to shut up about it. I just told him to mind his own business and by that time we were caught up in the crowd leaving the Hall and that was it. Just now I was heading down for dinner and the next thing I knew those four grabbed me and hustled me down the hall and shoved me against the wall. Told me I was going to learn to keep my mouth shut. I guess they thought no one was down here."

"It's fortunate for you they were wrong. It might help you to know that Derek Creevey's oldest brother, Collin, was killed during the battle here when Voldemort and his followers were defeated. Had we been able to get down to the memorial park as I had planned you'd have seen his grave, as well as a number of others," Harry said, his expression very serious.

"I understand that everyone is entitled to an opinion, Dickerson, but there can also be consequences to expressing that opinion, particularly one as unpopular as you've talked about," he said as he pulled out his notebook and began to write something down. "I had to do this once before, for different reasons, but take this note to the librarian, and I suggest you do it right after dinner. You need to understand some things before you run into any more trouble."

Harry handed the boy the piece of notepaper. He then fixed the boy with his brilliant green eyes and said,

"Life has many ways to teach us lessons, young fellow. I hope this way will prove less painful than some of the alternatives you could face. Now off you go."

"Yes, sir."

Harry watched as the youngster walked out of the classroom, the piece of paper clutched in his hand. Harry could only shake his head. He then finished packing his bag and resumed his interrupted journey home. Within fifteen minutes he was approaching the rear door of his country home and the door swung open.

"Good evening, Master Harry. Welcome home."

"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry said as he walked into the mudroom that separated the rear door from the kitchen.

He hung up his cloak and robe and pulled off his shoes and pulled on a soft pair of slippers that Ginny had gotten for him. She thought after being on his feet all day in front of a class he should have something soft to walk around in. He walked in to the kitchen to find Nibs hard a work at the stove.

"Good evening, Master Harry. Master Harry is hungry?"

"Yes I am, Nibs. I can't wait to see what you've made for us tonight," Harry replied.

"Dinner will be served within the hour, Master Harry, but …" the little house elf said with a meaningful nod of his head in the direction of the counter.

A plate with a meat roll was set next to a steaming cup of tea. Harry smiled and sat on the stool and helped himself. Apparently Nibs or Kreacher had decided that Harry needed something immediately upon arrival and when he came home for the first time on Monday his reaction to the snack confirmed their suspicions. Nibs in particular was quite overcome by Harry's expressions of gratitude. Nibs had confided to Mistress Ginny that he had found the perfect Master in Harry and his prodigious, dragon driven appetite.

As Harry was finishing up his snack he heard soft footfalls in the hallway and he looked up to see the face that never failed to lift his spirits. Ginny walked into the kitchen carrying James.

"Welcome home, sweetheart, how was your day?" she asked with a smile.

"First things first," Harry said as he wiped his mouth of the few crumbs that escaped his attention.

Ginny smiled wider as she stepped closer and leaned in to kiss her husband. When they parted Harry was also smiling and then he kissed his son on the top of his head. Then he looked at his wife and said,

"It was mostly alright, but I had to deal with an incident just before I left for home," and he proceeded to explain what had occurred.

Ginny's face grew serious. Harry had told her about Dickerson when he came home on Monday and she was not pleased with what she had heard. This latest news wasn't received any better.

"I realize he was only repeating what his father had said, but you'd think after you talked to him he'd know better. But you were right that it shouldn't be four on one like that. I imagine Bill is going to have to come down on them fairly hard," she said and then her face took on a bit of a smirk and she continued with "and I can just imagine him finishing up with something like 'I don't believe you'd want to aggravate Professor Potter any further'."

Harry rolled his eyes and said,

"Wonderful, Harry the Hammer strikes again."

Ginny started to laugh, remembering how chagrined Harry had been the time she refereed a Quidditch match and used the threat of Harry's displeasure to subdue a pair of Slytherin beaters who were proving a bit problematic.

"I was just teasing you, sweetheart. Bill can be pretty intimidating all by himself."

"That's for sure. So, how was your day?" he asked.

"Just fine. James was being his usual angelic self. You know he's been such a good baby, and considering his heritage, I can't help but wonder if he's saving something up for us later in life."

"Well, maybe if we are lucky he'll take after the quieter side of the family."

"Um, sweetheart, there really is no quieter side of this family. There's you and all that that entails and then there's the Weasleys. About the only one you could consider quiet is Perc and even he had his moments when he was younger."

"Hmmmm, guess I should think about building some sort of dungeon in the basement so we'll have some place to lock him up when the time comes," Harry said with a perfectly straight face.

Ginny's eyebrows shot up and then she started to laugh. Harry smiled and then said,

"I think that I need to go to Diagon Alley and stop at Gringotts on Saturday. I need to see what shape we're in now that all the bills for the house are paid. Do you want to come along?

"I'd love to but I have other plans, Harry. Mum wanted to come by and I invited Fleur as well. Little Vee will be crushed that you won't be here," Ginny said with a grin.

"Tell her Uncle 'arry will be home before they know it," Harry replied, also grinning.

The two and half year old Victoire was very attached to her Uncle and didn't hesitate to make her displeasure known if Harry wasn't around when she and her mother came for a visit. She was not unlike her mother in that regard. The three remained in the kitchen chatting until dinner was ready. As was usually the case when it was just them they ate at the table that was intended for breakfast duty but suited the small family well. Harry loved everything about his new home but having a dinner for three or four in the big dining room somehow struck him as a bit silly and they had quickly retreated to the cozier kitchen table. After dinner Harry retired to his library to read and Ginny went to give James a bath and put him to bed.

Perhaps an hour lately Ginny came into the library and walked up to Harry's chair where she bent down and kissed him softly. Then she walked over to the desk near the window and pulled out the journal she had started on Harry's life. She made some notes and then returned the book to its place. Next she pulled out a stack of parchment, the text of the book on magical creatures, to finish up the editing so it can be submitted to the publisher. Harry looked up from his book in time to see Nibs walk into the room with a tray holding two cups of tea and a small plate of biscuits. Harry got a cuppa and the plate of biscuits. Ginny received the other cup. As Harry sipped his tea he thought to himself that the life of a professor was turning out to be a good one.