Disclaimer: I own nothing you may recognise in any of my fics. I simply borrow the odd character and play with them a little
Word Count: 1,105
Golden Opportunities – Damn that Twinkle.
Harry Potter was looking at his former Headmaster with a mixture of uncertainty, confusion and utter disbelief. He was having difficulty processing the words that had left Albus Dumbledore's mouth. Had anyone else been in his position they would have already been in touch with St Mungo's and arranged for the old man to be committed to a secure psychiatric ward. The fact that his damn twinkle had come back with a vengeance was leaving Harry with a nervous feeling in his gut.
Shaking his head free of the cobwebs and closing his mouth, Harry gazed stupidly over the polished desk belonging to the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry looking for any glint, gleam or hint that the old man was joking but there was none. Groaning out loud, he ran a hand over his face then glanced back at Dumbledore – who seemed to be enjoying the moment immensely - and groaned again.
"You simply cannot be serious, Albus," Harry spoke after some minutes of silence. "Firstly, it's illegal and despite what certain people may think about my total disregard for rules, I do try to keep myself within the boundaries of the law," he scowled at his mentor and Grandfather figure. "Secondly, I just defeated Voldemort. I want to rest, settle down... Hell, I want a decent twelve hour sleep. And I fail to see how my gallivanting about would help me in achieving that." His eyes bore into Dumbledore's and sighed in defeat when the old mage didn't back down.
"Harry, come now. You will be able to get the rest you require. Honestly, teaching isn't that hard a task." The headmaster waved a hand and a stack of parchment appeared before him on the desk. "I was under the impression you formed a small group in fifth year and taught them Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Well, yes but-"
"And did you not carry on with the group into 6th year? As well as forming another, less advanced group as well?"
"You know I did Albus but-"
"And in your 7th year you taught both DA groups as well as a duelling club? I dare say that's experience enough." Dumbledore was smiling broadly at his former student. He saw the scowl on the 18 year olds face and beamed. It had gone over much easier than previously expected.
"Albus, ok! I've taught before. We all know this. But Defence against the Dark Arts? Merlin I'm only 18!" Harry realised he was fighting a loosing battle. He didn't care that he was going; more that he had lost to Albus' planning once again.
"Harry I would not offer this to you if I didn't think you could handle the job. You were born to teach Defence against the Dark Arts!" Albus exclaimed happily and Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Well we all learn something new every day. Anyway, how am I to travel there? And what about Remus? Draco? Won't they be worried as to where I am?" He stood up and walked over to Fawkes' perch. The phoenix trilled a long calming note before lowering his head hinting to Harry he wanted to be petted. Harry obliged and smiled at the magical creature that had saved his life on more than one occasion.
"My dear boy, don't fret. Everything has been taken care of. Remus knows where you are going and wishes you good luck as well as sending along some teaching materials he thought you may find useful." He caught the look Harry sent him and chuckled quietly. "For reference purpose only. You are more than qualified for the job. Trust me." Ignoring the raised eyebrow from the boy-who-lived, Albus rose from his seat, picking up the wad of parchment he'd conjured before and walked over to where Harry was stood still petting his phoenix.
"Albus you really are infuriating," Harry sighed in defeat, choosing to ignore the Headmaster's laugh.
"So Severus keeps informing me. Now," He handed the parchments to Harry, who flicked through them quickly. "Those are your graduation confirmation, Professorship Certification and your reference forms. You are to seek out the Headmaster when you arrive and explain why you are there, give him the papers and bob's your Uncle."
Harry thought it best not ask Dumbledore where he heard the muggle phrase before knowing full well, from experience, that it would only end in a very long, detailed description of the event. And Harry really didn't fancy that at the moment. He shrunk the papers with a click of his fingers and pocketed them within the confines of his robes.
"What about my belongings? Will they be sent with me?" Asked the young wizard as he moved away from the phoenix's perch to stand behind the chair he'd previously occupied. Dumbledore nodded with a smile.
"Of course; you don't think I'd allow you to go without supplies? What do you take me for?" Harry raised an eyebrow at the man, regarding him sceptically.
"I don't think I'll be answering that one any time soon Albus." Dumbledore chuckled.
"They will be sent along with you. I will tell young Mr Malfoy that you have gone away from a while. Now, stand in the middle of the room... there, thank you." The old mage walked around to the front of his desk with his wand in hand and aimed it squarely at Harry's chest. "Good luck. Rest up and don't let those students walk all over you." Harry thought he saw a mischievous spark in Dumbledore's eyes but ignored it.
"Very well, see you in a year Albus." He braced himself for the impact of the spell that was coming.
"Il trasporto sostiene venti anni." With one last smile at his mentor, Harry's world spiralled out of focus. The colours were blurry and meshing together to form a black void-like space with bright blue streaks appearing every so often. Half a minute after the spell had been cast on Harry, he found himself in front of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry once more. This time he had a nervous twinge in his gut.
He looked around him to find his large trunk to his right with a few luggage bags on top of it and to his left lay his Firebolt broomstick along with his thick, black cloak. He shrunk his brook, trunk and luggage and put the cloak over his shoulders before pocketing the shrunken items. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the large castle in front of him and muttered to himself before heading up to the entrance doors.
"Well Harry, welcome to 1977."
Written by Messrmarauder. (REVISED - when looking back over previous chapters I was appauled to notice how many mistakes I'd made, so I'm going over each chapter and correcting spelling and grammatical errors. Thanks :)
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