I don't own the Harry Potter franchise – I just like to mess with it.
Chapter One: The New Teacher
When does it all start? You can say it starts when they get their first wand. Or when they perform their first baby-magic. Or when they're born. Or even at conception. And before that it began with their parents' lives.
At the end all you can say is that it began at the beginning of time. And if you don't believe in pre-determinism you can say it starts only at the instant that it happens.
For her it began when she found out the new teacher's name.
That's when it began to go downhill.
The stone corridors were filled with the susurrus of gossip, spreading like wildfire throughout the school.
She didn't really have many friends to tell, so she screamed it into her diary. She felt a strange combination of admiration and absolute terror towards the source of the excitement; incredibly strong feelings, despite never having met the man.
Frieda's toad ran away today. It's a really expensive breed, so she
keeps begging me to find it. I have holiday homework to do by
tomorrow. Why can't she?
…Finished the homework. Just.
There's a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher halfway through the year. Professor Maddigan left to have her baby last term. Everyone's saying how embarrassing it must be for his kids that come here. I wouldn't want my
father to teach here. Well…stepfather.
I'll have to play dumb in DADA; I really don't want the temp to notice me.
Professor Harry Potter. (!?)
What should I do if he recognises me?!
And if he does and tells everyone my life is fucked. It's over.
I'm nearly to the end of school. The past six years haven't gone
too badly, I just need to make it through the exams now…
I wish it wasn't him.
…I can't disrespect him. He killed the Dark Lord.
You can't hate a hero.
I don't hate him I'm just scared…
Need to be careful.
No one's found out yet.
In a different part of the school Professor Harry Potter was facing his very first class, with the very worst combination of Houses he could possibly have. Gryffindor and Slytherin first years.
I will not favour my child… He chanted to himself, watching his youngest son Albus James Potter sit down and start chatting animatedly to his friends, with the occasional perplexed glance towards the 'new' teacher.
I will not bully Malfoy's spawn…I will not be like Snape… Harry continued mentally, as the platinum-haired pureblood glared at him with all the vitriol a twelve-year-old could muster.
Within five minutes the class was full and twenty pairs of eyes were fixed upon him. Celebrity status granted him their complete and effortless attention. Until they opened their mouths and started pelting him with questions, anyway.
"Good morning, everybody. You are my very first class here at Hogwarts." Doesn't that make Monday morning lessons worth getting up for? "I'll be taking the register and finding out your names soon, but first I'd like to know what Professor Maddigan has already taught you. Any volunteers?" Someone really needs to introduce the idea of 'curriculum' to Hogwarts one of these days…I have no idea what the previous professor covered, or how well.
Nineteen hands shot up. Scorpius Malfoy tried to look cool and nonchalant, but it was already obvious that he'd be listening as hard as he could to the others. Harry pointed at random. "You."
"Are you really the Harry Potter?!" squealed a child, making his classmates break into mocking laughter. Duh. Of course it was the Harry Potter. Who else had a bolt of lightning scratched into their face?
"I'm certain that's not part of your exams," he replied in a crowd-control manner. But the floodgates had already opened.
"How did you kill Voldywort?"
"Was it scary?"
"Do lots of girls like you coz you're a hero?"
"Can I have your autograph?!" – "Oh oh can I too?!!" – "Can my mum have your autograph?" – "Did you know my auntie Lavender?" – "Can we blow stuff up?" – "Will you teach us awesome curses??" – "Tell us about the war!" – "I want a photo!" – "Why did you turn down the Chudley Cannons?" – "Why don't you get magic lenses, your glasses are ugly!" – "I wanna learn how to fight a dragon!"
Besieged, he picked up the heaviest textbook he could lay his hands on and smacked it onto his desk with a resounding BAM!
In the silence that followed one muggleborn asked: "Who the hell is Harry Potter?"
"Don't swear," snapped Harry. "And put your hand up."
The girl blinked at him for a second, then slowly raised her arm. "Yes?"
"Can we call you Scarface?"
No one's found out yet.
And it has to stay that way.
Hey! You made it to the end. Welcome to Inheritance, my honest attempt to make a Voldemort's-offspring fanfiction with less than one percent Mary-Sue. I haven't found one yet, so I hope you enjoy this offering.
Please review, and remind me how hopeless such a goal is. Or better yet, say you like it!