Authors Notes: Hey everyone! This is the second story that I've written for Fanfiction.net, and I am truly excited for it! My first story was a Song Fic, so this is very different. I hope that you all like it, and I hope that it is OK * grins nervously *. Oh! And if you have the time, read my first story, "Moving On". Thanks!
- L. O'Neill
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, places, objects or anything else you read in this story that is found in any of the original Harry Potter novels. All Harry Potter related things in this story belong to JK Rowling and anybody else who is in on the deal. I am making no profit from this story.
The Hero-Complex
Chapter One
A man no older than twenty-six or twenty-seven came hobbling up the steps of the ancient castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had not been there since his graduation from the school, and felt rather guilty for it, but had many reasons to not want to go back; he had many overly emotional memories attached to the place, and he would rather forget all things that had happened to him during his time there.
Pushing the large front door wide, he stepped into the huge Entrance Hall, and was instantly greeted by a shy-looking house elf, who led him silently up the marble staircase to the Headmaster's office. The elf, who was swathed in a tea towel with the Hogwarts school crest stamped on the front, stopped in front of a large stone gargoyle, and squeaked the password to it. The gargoyle sprang to life, and jumped aside, allowing the elf and the man entrance. The pair made their way silently up the moving staircase and to the large oak door with the fancy knocker. It was exactly as the man had remembered. The elf knocked hesitantly on the door, and a muffled "Come in," sounded from the other side. The door swung open of its own accord, and the elf entered, the man right behind him.
"Mr. Potter is here to see you, Headmaster, sir." Squeaked the elf, then disappeared with a tiny 'pop'.
"Harry, how wonderful it is to see you again." Albus Dumbledore said, smiling as he looked at his former pupil.
"And you, Professor Dumbledore. You are looking well." Harry replied, taking a seat in the chair in front of the Headmaster's desk.
"Yes, thank you. Before we catch up, Harry, I asked you to come here for a reason, and I know you would like me to get straight to the point." Dumbledore said bluntly. Harry noticed that he looked a lot older than he had remembered. He nodded.
"Well, Harry, I was wondering if you could possibly take up the post for Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, seeing as you are going to be out of action for a while, what with your injured leg. I am sure that the Director of Operations at the Auror Headquarters has already told you that you will be doing desk work for the year while your leg gets better. And I was thinking that you could maybe teach here for the year, instead of sitting in an office doing paperwork." Dumbledore explained.
"Me? A teacher? You have got to be joking, Professor! I - I'm no teacher!" Harry said, taken aback at what he was being asked to do.
"First of all, Harry, you are no longer a student here, and have not been for some time, so feel free to call me Albus. Secondly, you say that you can not teach. Do you not remember the events of your fifth year here? The 'D.A'?" Dumbledore said, looking him straight in the eye. "You taught that. And the students in that group all thought you were a great teacher and did excellent in their Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.Ls or N.E.W.Ts!"
Harry sat in thoughtful silence for a moment; the voices inside his head were having a heated debate about what to do. While his head and his heart fought it out, his mouth skipped ahead and answered, "I would have to ask my superiors about it -" But Dumbledore interrupted him.
"I have already spoken with your superiors about it, and they said that they would allow you to teach. They also said that they were glad to be rid of you and that they hate it when you are in the office because you never leave."
Harry blinked. "Er - all right then. I'll - I'll do it, Prof - I mean, Albus."
"Thank you, Harry, you have no idea what this means to me. Now, what have you been up to lately? How did you injure your leg?" Dumbledore asked, conjuring up a pot of tea for the both of them.
"I was on a mission in South America and I got into a bit of a scuffle with some Dark Wizards over there. One of them used a curse that I've never even seen before on my leg. Boy, did that kill! It hurt like mad! I'm surprised that I still have my leg!" Harry explained, grimacing as he moved his leg a little. "Urg! I think my pain relief potion has started to wear off." He added as pain began to shoot up and down his whole body, staring from his leg, upwards.
"Perhaps a short to the visit to the Hospital Wing would be in order?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, it's OK. I mean, I've felt worse pain before, and I doubt that Madam Pomfrey would have the right pain relief potion. I've been having to keep modifying the potion because my body keeps becoming immune to it." Harry explained. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows a bit, but said nothing.
After about an hour of conversation and catching up, they turned, once again, to the subject of Harry coming to teach.
"I still can not thank you enough for doing this for me, Harry. I have been having the hardest time finding teachers to take the post. Most still think it is jinxed." Dumbledore laughed a little. "Which is complete nonsense, if you ask me, but I have little or no influence over people's opinions. And a lot of the teachers that have taken up the post, were, honestly, not very competent teachers. The professor that I hired this past year just left in the middle of the term! Said he could not handle the students. Professor Granger took up the post for the rest of the year along with her Arithmancy teaching duties. She had a hard time of it this year, I can tell you."
"Wait - Hermione is a /teacher/ here?" Harry asked, stunned. In reality, he shouldn't have been surprised, as his friend was a little overly enthusiastic about school and learning when they were students here, but it still came as quite a shock. Quite suddenly, the feeling of shock inside of him was replaced with a feeling of guilt; he had not seen his friend for about three years, and had only talked with her on the phone a total of perhaps 10 times during that period. But it really had not been his fault, he reasoned with himself, he was on assignment during most of that time, and for about a year was working a deep cover operation.
Dumbledore broke into Harry's thoughts. "Yes, she has been teaching here for about two years, but I thought that you knew that?" Dumbledore looked at Harry quizzically.
"No, I didn't. I haven't seen her for a long time because I was on assignment in other countries." Harry admitted.
"Well, no doubt that she will be very pleased to hear that you are joining the teaching staff for this year." Dumbledore said, standing up.
"Albus, what - what happened to Ron?" Harry asked, standing also, preparing to leave.
"I believe Mr. Weasley works in the department for Magical Games and Sports." He answered. "But I have invited him to come and referee a Quidditch match or two this year. He had yet to answer me back. Now, Harry, I expect you to be here about a week before term starts, if not earlier, to take care of your classes and accommodation and such. I will be seeing you soon." He shook his hand, and Harry bid his goodbye.
****
Once he was outside of Hogwarts grounds, Harry apparated to his small flat that was just outside London. His flat was cramped, cluttered and almost rundown looking, but he really did not care. To him it was not 'home', it was just a place to rest his head at night when he was stationed in London, which, frankly, was not that often. He was one of the few Aurors that the ministry sent abroad frequently, meaning that he never really stayed in his house for a long period of time. But for a place that was so misused, it was still covered with papers, boxes, quills, bottles of ink, and books. Harry looked around his living room and sighed. He would have to get this all cleaned up and organized before he left for Hogwarts. Thankfully, however, he was a wizard, and could use quicker, magical means to clean most of the mess up. He set the papers, boxes and books to start piling themselves neatly in the middle of the room, and the quills and ink bottles to start collecting themselves on the coffee table. Leaving the objects to sort themselves out, he went to go inspect his bedroom. The room had red walls reminiscent of the walls in the Gryffindor boys dormitory, and was not much better than the living room had been, tidiness-wise. With a sweep of his wand, the clothes that had been lying on his bed or on the floor sorted themselves into four piles of light, medium, dark, and red colours. He was going to have a lot of laundry to do later.
Walking back into the living room, he noticed that the papers and boxes had finished organizing themselves. Conjuring up more boxes, Harry put the piles of paper into them and lined them up with the other boxes that were against the wall. He put his books, quills and ink into the remaining boxes and labelled them accordingly. It was so much easier to pack things when you need move when you're magical, Harry decided.
Sitting down on his sofa, and putting his feet up on the coffee table, he closed his eyes, and fell into the first truly restful sleep that he had had in a long time.
****
Several days, and many loads of laundry later, Harry was packing the last few of his items into a box and lifting it down into his magical trunk that was much like the one Mad-Eye Moody's impostor had back in his fourth year.
The day before, he has made sure that all his owl post be forwarded to Hogwarts instead of the Auror Offices, and that any post sent by muggle means now be forwarded to a Post Office Box in the closest muggle town to Hogwarts, opposed to his Post Office Box in London.
He closed the lid of his trunk and turned the key in the seventh hole. Looking around at his now clean and almost empty looking flat, he found that he wasn't going to miss being away from here. He had decided earlier, however, that he wasn't going to sell the place, just in case he wanted to get away from the school for the weekend.
With one last look around to make sure that he had not forgotten anything, and that all the windows and doors were locked, he shrunk his trunk, put it in a pocket of his robes, and disapparated to the Hogwarts gates. With the help of his walking stick, he limped his way up to the front doors and opened them wide. He was greeted by a short, thin witch in purple robes, who had very bushy brown hair. She introduced herself, though there was really no need to; Harry knew very well who she was, but she obviously did not recognize him.
"Hello, I'm Professor Hermione Granger. You're the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I presume." She said extending her hand for him to shake. He smiled mischievously at her and shook her hand. "I'm sorry, but what's your name? Albus neglected to tell me who was coming when he asked me to meet you."
Harry grinned at her again and answered. "Professor Potter,"
"Professor Pot - /HARRY/?! Harry! Is that really you?! I didn't recognize you at all! Oh, how are you? Where have you been? I haven't seen you for so long! Are you really teaching here! This is so amazing! I can't believe it! Come on! I'll show you to your living quarters and office!" Hermione said very fast, then grabbed his hand and started leading the way very fast towards the marble staircase.
"Uh, Hermione? Could you slow down, please? I can't walk very fast." Harry said, and she looked back at him with a surprised expression.
"Why can't you walk very fast?" She asked him. Then she saw the walking stick that he was holding. "Oh my gosh! What happened to you?"
"Nothing really, I just almost had my leg amputated by a curse when I was on a mission in South America." He said calmly, and continued walking. Hermione looked stricken, but didn't say anything. After a few moments they arrived in front of a large painting of two wizards duelling. The wizards stopped and one of them asked, "Password?"
"Sugar Quills," Hermione answered, and the portrait swung open to reveal the doorway to a very large room that was furnished with a plush red sofa and arm chairs, a mahogany wood coffee table, and many large bookshelves that framed the walls.
"This is your living quarters," Hermione said. "You can change the password to anything that you like, but let me warn you, if those two wizards in the painting don't like the password, they will change it on you, without telling you." They both looked at each other for a moment.
"I really missed you guys. You and Ron, I mean." Harry said finally.
"We missed you too, but Ron told me that you're one of the Aurors that the ministry likes to send into the field a lot, so we understood. But now, enough of this! We have so much to catch up on! Tell me, what have you been up to that you only called me 10 times within three years?" Hermione asked, giving him a smile, and sitting down on one of the chairs. Harry sat down on the couch and told her his tales of being in the field. They stayed like this for about two hours, when it was finally time to go to the Great Hall for lunch.
* Thanks for reading! Please Review! *
- L. O'Neill
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, places, objects or anything else you read in this story that is found in any of the original Harry Potter novels. All Harry Potter related things in this story belong to JK Rowling and anybody else who is in on the deal. I am making no profit from this story.
The Hero-Complex
Chapter One
A man no older than twenty-six or twenty-seven came hobbling up the steps of the ancient castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had not been there since his graduation from the school, and felt rather guilty for it, but had many reasons to not want to go back; he had many overly emotional memories attached to the place, and he would rather forget all things that had happened to him during his time there.
Pushing the large front door wide, he stepped into the huge Entrance Hall, and was instantly greeted by a shy-looking house elf, who led him silently up the marble staircase to the Headmaster's office. The elf, who was swathed in a tea towel with the Hogwarts school crest stamped on the front, stopped in front of a large stone gargoyle, and squeaked the password to it. The gargoyle sprang to life, and jumped aside, allowing the elf and the man entrance. The pair made their way silently up the moving staircase and to the large oak door with the fancy knocker. It was exactly as the man had remembered. The elf knocked hesitantly on the door, and a muffled "Come in," sounded from the other side. The door swung open of its own accord, and the elf entered, the man right behind him.
"Mr. Potter is here to see you, Headmaster, sir." Squeaked the elf, then disappeared with a tiny 'pop'.
"Harry, how wonderful it is to see you again." Albus Dumbledore said, smiling as he looked at his former pupil.
"And you, Professor Dumbledore. You are looking well." Harry replied, taking a seat in the chair in front of the Headmaster's desk.
"Yes, thank you. Before we catch up, Harry, I asked you to come here for a reason, and I know you would like me to get straight to the point." Dumbledore said bluntly. Harry noticed that he looked a lot older than he had remembered. He nodded.
"Well, Harry, I was wondering if you could possibly take up the post for Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, seeing as you are going to be out of action for a while, what with your injured leg. I am sure that the Director of Operations at the Auror Headquarters has already told you that you will be doing desk work for the year while your leg gets better. And I was thinking that you could maybe teach here for the year, instead of sitting in an office doing paperwork." Dumbledore explained.
"Me? A teacher? You have got to be joking, Professor! I - I'm no teacher!" Harry said, taken aback at what he was being asked to do.
"First of all, Harry, you are no longer a student here, and have not been for some time, so feel free to call me Albus. Secondly, you say that you can not teach. Do you not remember the events of your fifth year here? The 'D.A'?" Dumbledore said, looking him straight in the eye. "You taught that. And the students in that group all thought you were a great teacher and did excellent in their Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.Ls or N.E.W.Ts!"
Harry sat in thoughtful silence for a moment; the voices inside his head were having a heated debate about what to do. While his head and his heart fought it out, his mouth skipped ahead and answered, "I would have to ask my superiors about it -" But Dumbledore interrupted him.
"I have already spoken with your superiors about it, and they said that they would allow you to teach. They also said that they were glad to be rid of you and that they hate it when you are in the office because you never leave."
Harry blinked. "Er - all right then. I'll - I'll do it, Prof - I mean, Albus."
"Thank you, Harry, you have no idea what this means to me. Now, what have you been up to lately? How did you injure your leg?" Dumbledore asked, conjuring up a pot of tea for the both of them.
"I was on a mission in South America and I got into a bit of a scuffle with some Dark Wizards over there. One of them used a curse that I've never even seen before on my leg. Boy, did that kill! It hurt like mad! I'm surprised that I still have my leg!" Harry explained, grimacing as he moved his leg a little. "Urg! I think my pain relief potion has started to wear off." He added as pain began to shoot up and down his whole body, staring from his leg, upwards.
"Perhaps a short to the visit to the Hospital Wing would be in order?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, it's OK. I mean, I've felt worse pain before, and I doubt that Madam Pomfrey would have the right pain relief potion. I've been having to keep modifying the potion because my body keeps becoming immune to it." Harry explained. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows a bit, but said nothing.
After about an hour of conversation and catching up, they turned, once again, to the subject of Harry coming to teach.
"I still can not thank you enough for doing this for me, Harry. I have been having the hardest time finding teachers to take the post. Most still think it is jinxed." Dumbledore laughed a little. "Which is complete nonsense, if you ask me, but I have little or no influence over people's opinions. And a lot of the teachers that have taken up the post, were, honestly, not very competent teachers. The professor that I hired this past year just left in the middle of the term! Said he could not handle the students. Professor Granger took up the post for the rest of the year along with her Arithmancy teaching duties. She had a hard time of it this year, I can tell you."
"Wait - Hermione is a /teacher/ here?" Harry asked, stunned. In reality, he shouldn't have been surprised, as his friend was a little overly enthusiastic about school and learning when they were students here, but it still came as quite a shock. Quite suddenly, the feeling of shock inside of him was replaced with a feeling of guilt; he had not seen his friend for about three years, and had only talked with her on the phone a total of perhaps 10 times during that period. But it really had not been his fault, he reasoned with himself, he was on assignment during most of that time, and for about a year was working a deep cover operation.
Dumbledore broke into Harry's thoughts. "Yes, she has been teaching here for about two years, but I thought that you knew that?" Dumbledore looked at Harry quizzically.
"No, I didn't. I haven't seen her for a long time because I was on assignment in other countries." Harry admitted.
"Well, no doubt that she will be very pleased to hear that you are joining the teaching staff for this year." Dumbledore said, standing up.
"Albus, what - what happened to Ron?" Harry asked, standing also, preparing to leave.
"I believe Mr. Weasley works in the department for Magical Games and Sports." He answered. "But I have invited him to come and referee a Quidditch match or two this year. He had yet to answer me back. Now, Harry, I expect you to be here about a week before term starts, if not earlier, to take care of your classes and accommodation and such. I will be seeing you soon." He shook his hand, and Harry bid his goodbye.
****
Once he was outside of Hogwarts grounds, Harry apparated to his small flat that was just outside London. His flat was cramped, cluttered and almost rundown looking, but he really did not care. To him it was not 'home', it was just a place to rest his head at night when he was stationed in London, which, frankly, was not that often. He was one of the few Aurors that the ministry sent abroad frequently, meaning that he never really stayed in his house for a long period of time. But for a place that was so misused, it was still covered with papers, boxes, quills, bottles of ink, and books. Harry looked around his living room and sighed. He would have to get this all cleaned up and organized before he left for Hogwarts. Thankfully, however, he was a wizard, and could use quicker, magical means to clean most of the mess up. He set the papers, boxes and books to start piling themselves neatly in the middle of the room, and the quills and ink bottles to start collecting themselves on the coffee table. Leaving the objects to sort themselves out, he went to go inspect his bedroom. The room had red walls reminiscent of the walls in the Gryffindor boys dormitory, and was not much better than the living room had been, tidiness-wise. With a sweep of his wand, the clothes that had been lying on his bed or on the floor sorted themselves into four piles of light, medium, dark, and red colours. He was going to have a lot of laundry to do later.
Walking back into the living room, he noticed that the papers and boxes had finished organizing themselves. Conjuring up more boxes, Harry put the piles of paper into them and lined them up with the other boxes that were against the wall. He put his books, quills and ink into the remaining boxes and labelled them accordingly. It was so much easier to pack things when you need move when you're magical, Harry decided.
Sitting down on his sofa, and putting his feet up on the coffee table, he closed his eyes, and fell into the first truly restful sleep that he had had in a long time.
****
Several days, and many loads of laundry later, Harry was packing the last few of his items into a box and lifting it down into his magical trunk that was much like the one Mad-Eye Moody's impostor had back in his fourth year.
The day before, he has made sure that all his owl post be forwarded to Hogwarts instead of the Auror Offices, and that any post sent by muggle means now be forwarded to a Post Office Box in the closest muggle town to Hogwarts, opposed to his Post Office Box in London.
He closed the lid of his trunk and turned the key in the seventh hole. Looking around at his now clean and almost empty looking flat, he found that he wasn't going to miss being away from here. He had decided earlier, however, that he wasn't going to sell the place, just in case he wanted to get away from the school for the weekend.
With one last look around to make sure that he had not forgotten anything, and that all the windows and doors were locked, he shrunk his trunk, put it in a pocket of his robes, and disapparated to the Hogwarts gates. With the help of his walking stick, he limped his way up to the front doors and opened them wide. He was greeted by a short, thin witch in purple robes, who had very bushy brown hair. She introduced herself, though there was really no need to; Harry knew very well who she was, but she obviously did not recognize him.
"Hello, I'm Professor Hermione Granger. You're the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I presume." She said extending her hand for him to shake. He smiled mischievously at her and shook her hand. "I'm sorry, but what's your name? Albus neglected to tell me who was coming when he asked me to meet you."
Harry grinned at her again and answered. "Professor Potter,"
"Professor Pot - /HARRY/?! Harry! Is that really you?! I didn't recognize you at all! Oh, how are you? Where have you been? I haven't seen you for so long! Are you really teaching here! This is so amazing! I can't believe it! Come on! I'll show you to your living quarters and office!" Hermione said very fast, then grabbed his hand and started leading the way very fast towards the marble staircase.
"Uh, Hermione? Could you slow down, please? I can't walk very fast." Harry said, and she looked back at him with a surprised expression.
"Why can't you walk very fast?" She asked him. Then she saw the walking stick that he was holding. "Oh my gosh! What happened to you?"
"Nothing really, I just almost had my leg amputated by a curse when I was on a mission in South America." He said calmly, and continued walking. Hermione looked stricken, but didn't say anything. After a few moments they arrived in front of a large painting of two wizards duelling. The wizards stopped and one of them asked, "Password?"
"Sugar Quills," Hermione answered, and the portrait swung open to reveal the doorway to a very large room that was furnished with a plush red sofa and arm chairs, a mahogany wood coffee table, and many large bookshelves that framed the walls.
"This is your living quarters," Hermione said. "You can change the password to anything that you like, but let me warn you, if those two wizards in the painting don't like the password, they will change it on you, without telling you." They both looked at each other for a moment.
"I really missed you guys. You and Ron, I mean." Harry said finally.
"We missed you too, but Ron told me that you're one of the Aurors that the ministry likes to send into the field a lot, so we understood. But now, enough of this! We have so much to catch up on! Tell me, what have you been up to that you only called me 10 times within three years?" Hermione asked, giving him a smile, and sitting down on one of the chairs. Harry sat down on the couch and told her his tales of being in the field. They stayed like this for about two hours, when it was finally time to go to the Great Hall for lunch.
* Thanks for reading! Please Review! *