Remedial Summer Course
by Healer Pomfrey
All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes.
McGonagall greeted the first years and shortly explained about the four Houses, before she quickly introduced Harry and explained about his de-aging - apparently noticing that the students' eyes lingered on the small boy at her side and several "awww"s could be heard, especially coming from the girls.
"I expect you all to show Mr. Potter the respect with which you'd treat him if he was your age," she finished in a stern voice.
"Yes Madame," the first years promised, and the Scottish lioness excused herself for a moment.
Before Harry knew what happened, a girl took him by his left hand and said, "Hello Harry, I'm glad to meet you. I'm Hermione."
"Hello Hermione," Harry replied, wondering, 'Why does everyone want to take me by the hand? My brain is that of an eleven year old, and I can well walk by myself.' He did not voice his thought though and had to secretly admit to himself that he somehow liked how kind everyone was to him, something that he had completely missed when he was smaller.
One of the boys stepped over to him and extended his hand. "Hello Harry. My name's Malfoy," he introduced himself, "Draco Malfoy."
"Hello Draco," Harry replied, friendly, and hesitantly shook the older boy's hand, ignoring the giggles coming from the redhead standing on Hermione's other side. 'That could be the twins' brother,' he thought, unobtrusively looking at the boy.
Draco turned to the boy and opened his mouth, just when the Deputy Headmistress returned, interrupting all conversations.
When he walked into the Great Hall together with Hermione, Harry noticed that he felt incredibly tired, in spite of the long nap that the Potions Master had made him take earlier in the afternoon. 'I hope this won't last too long,' he thought, yawning. To his mind that sometimes switched between his real eleven-year-old brain and his body's smaller one, it seemed to take an infinite time, before he was finally called to meet the Sorting Hat.
When McGonagall placed the Hat on his head, his face was completely covered by the Hat's large brim, and Harry could not see anything.
'A three-year-old? Has the Headmaster gone nuts?' a faint voice suddenly penetrated Harry's mind.
'I'm not three but eleven,' Harry thought, indignantly.
'And what am I supposed to do with you? How can I sort you?' the Hat asked again.
'Anywhere, but not Hufflepuff please,' Harry replied quickly. 'One of the dunderheads there caused me to become so small.'
'Oh I see you have already found your master,' the Hat stated, sighing. "And that's where you belong, Slytherin. But I can't sort you there as long as you're three years old. The older students wouldn't leave you in peace. Better for a baby would be to be in...'
The Hat suddenly quietened, before shouting into the Hall, "Gryffindor."
Harry sighed in relief, when McGonagall took off the Hat and he could see again. 'That was strange,' he mused. 'I belong into Slytherin, but he sorted me into Gryffindor? Oh well, at least I'm together with Hermione, and the twins are in Gryffindor too, so that's good.' He couldn't believe his luck upon seeing an empty seat just between the twins and Hermione and quickly sat down, feeling very happy to see his friends again.
"... Welcome to Gryffindor..."
"You've grown a bit..."
"... How old are you now?" the twins greeted him in their usual way of speaking.
"I'm three now," Harry whispered back. "I hope I'll be four in the morning."
Harry spent the next few minutes speaking with the twins, Hermione and the other first years, before he became too tired to keep himself awake and without thinking laid his head on the table, drifting off to sleep right away.
Hermione was just on her way to alert her Head of House, when the teachers became aware of what had happened, due to the multiple "Aww"s and "Cute"s, mostly coming from the girls of all Houses, who were staring at the Gryffindor table. McGonagall carefully scooped Harry into her arms and carried him to the Head table, where the Headmaster had conjured a thick mattress. She laid Harry on the mattress on the floor next to Poppy at the end of the Head table, realising that the boy did not even stir but continued to sleep, peacefully.
The Headmaster rose from his seat, efficiently diverting the attention. "My dear students, welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. I know how adorable little Harry is, but please leave him in peace. We hope that he'll back to his eleven-year-old self in a week's time. Now it's time to begin our banquet. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
Severus inwardly groaned at the commotion. 'I was mistaken when I expected everyone to make a fuss about Harry because of his fame. They adore him because of his cuteness,' he thought in annoyance. He quietly observed how the Weasley twins stepped behind Minerva and asked for the permission to become little Harry's baby sitters for the time being.
"Thank you very much, Messrs. Weasley," Minerva replied, sounding grateful. "However, you need to speak with Professor Snape, since he's Harry's temporary guardian for the time being. I'll ask Ms. Granger to take care of him during class."
Severus took a deep breath, readying himself for the conversation with the two seemingly irresponsible pranksters.
"... please let us babysit Harry..."
"... whenever you need a babysitter, sir," the twins approached him from behind.
Severus turned around, quirking an eyebrow at the duo. "And why exactly would I rely on the two most irresponsible pranksters that Hogwarts has ever seen if I needed someone to babysit a de-aged first year?"
The twins exchanged a glance.
"Because we've become good friends with Harry..."
"... and we promise to take good care of him," they finally replied.
Severus gave them a sharp nod. "Very well then, please accompany me to the dungeons. I need indeed someone to stay with him, while I have to hold a House meeting right after the banquet," he replied, feeling very grateful to the twins for their offer. 'Maybe I could assign them a detention in order to teach them a good joke potion in return,' he resolved.
For the first time since he had become a professor at Hogwarts, he allowed students to accompany him into his personal quarters, where he placed Harry in his bed and agreed with the twins that they would supervise Harry from the end of the last afternoon class until Harry had to go to bed shortly after dinner.
"In return I shall teach you some interesting potions," the professor promised, causing the twins to cheer in delight.
When Harry's mind returned to awareness, he found himself in his own bed in the Potions Master's guest room. 'How did I get here?' he wondered, faintly remembering that he had been attending the welcoming feast at the Gryffindor table. Only when he glanced around, seeing the Potions Master sit on a chair at his bed side, realisation set in. 'He must have carried me all the way to the dungeons.'
"Good morning sir," he spoke up, tentatively.
"Good morning Harry," Snape replied, letting his magazine sink. "I hope you had a nice sleep," he continued, smirking. "Are you feeling well and up to receiving your next dose of the aging potion?"
"Yes please," Harry said quickly. "I can't wait to become eleven again."
The Potions Master quirked an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were liking the fawning of the complete female student body," he said, smirking. "You should have heard their comments last night in the Great Hall, when you were sleeping on the floor next to the Head table."
Harry could not help blushing. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I just couldn't stay awake."
"That's all right," the professor reassured him. "Apart from the fact that you missed dinner, it was no problem at all." He remained thoughtful for a moment, before he explained, "Even if you have your memories, your body is currently that of a three-year-old. Therefore, you won't be able to do as much magic as your classmates, and you might need several naps during the day, depending on how strenuous your classes have been. Maybe you should skip every second class." Seeing Harry's disappointed expression, he relented, "Well then at least return to your own room or to Gryffindor whenever you're tired. Just inform a teacher."
Harry agreed and hesitantly swallowed the aging potion, unaware of the fact that his guardian cast a spell at his clothing to adjust it to his new size.
"Well, now you're four and a big boy," the professor said, smirking. "Let's go and attend breakfast in the Great Hall."
To Harry's s surprise, the twins offered to escort the Gryffindor first-years to the Transfiguration classroom, and Hermione and Harry gladly agreed. Only Ron Weasley strangely managed to arrive late for the class, and to Harry's amusement, the professor suggested transfiguring him into a watch or a map.
After a short introduction into the subject Transfiguration, McGonagall made them change toothpicks into needles, however, instructed Harry to just watch for the time being.
"You don't want to deplete your magic, Mr. Potter," she told him, causing Harry to inwardly groan in annoyance.
'Ron seems not as nice as the twins,' he mused, while he observed his classmates practise the spell that the professor had just taught them. To his relief, Hermione and Draco were the only students who managed the Transformation. 'That's good, then I don't have to catch up so much,' he thought. 'Still it's boring when I'm not allowed to practise.'
Finally, the class was over, and Harry led his classmates to the Potions Classroom, finding it very amusing that he as a four-year-old had to show his big fellow first-years the way.
Severus shut the door with a bang and strode towards the teacher's table to show the new first-years his annual bat-of-the-dungeons performance and thoroughly scare them all. However, arriving at the front of the classroom, he felt all the wind taken out of his sails upon realising how Harry slipped into the empty seat next to Draco and Hermione sat on Harry's other side. Apparently following their example, the rest of the class chose their seats in an equally mixed way. For an instant, he pondered if he should insist for the Slytherins to sit on one side of the room leaving the other side for the Gryffindors; however, he decided against it. 'The Headmaster always speaks about more friendship between the Houses; maybe with Harry's help, this class will be able to achieve it,' he thought, before he proceeded to continue his speech, completely aware of the lack of effect it was going to have on the students for once. 'I'm getting too soft,' he realised as he began to explain about the ingredients and their preparation for the potion, which he wanted them to brew during this first Potions class.
Harry was happy. Sitting between Hermione and Draco, who had kindly fetched the ingredients for him from the crowded ingredients cupboard, stating that it might be not a safe place for a four-year-old, he concentrated on brewing his first potion as a Hogwarts student. 'This is easy,' he thought, as he eagerly inserted the ingredients with a huge smile playing on his lips.
However, he had just bottled his potion and placed it on the professor's desk, when an explosion from two rows behind him, where Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley were sitting, alerted him to the fact that it was not easy for everyone.
"Longbottom, you dunderhead," he heard Snape shout, before the Potions Master dismissed them, banishing all potions from their cauldrons with a flick of his wand.
"Neville, are you all right?" Harry enquired, eyeing the boy in concern, when he took the seat opposite of his classmate at the Gryffindor table.
"Yes, thank you Harry, I'm fine. Apart from the fact that Professor Snape seems to hate me," Neville replied in a small voice.
"Ah, I don't think that he hates you," Harry said, thoughtfully. "Maybe he's a bit impatient if someone messes up with his potion, that's all. If you want, we can sit together in Potions and I'll help you."
"What can a three-year-old help in Potions?" Ron Weasley enquired, glaring at Harry.
However, in the meantime, his older twin brothers had taken the seats on Harry's left side and immediately began to protect him.
"Ron, don't be such an idiot..."
"... You know that Harry took the remedial potions class together with us and is able to brew forth year's potions..."
"... Don't be jealous of everything and everyone."
Ron merely glared at his brothers, before he began to tuck into his meal with gusto.
Harry thoroughly enjoyed his lunch, talking with Hermione and the twins about Hogwarts, Gryffindor and Potions, until all of a sudden, the Potions Master strode behind the Gryffindor table and motioned him to follow him.
"I'm probably going to skip History of Magic," Harry whispered to Hermione before he hurried behind his guardian.
"I believe that you're in dire need of a nap," Snape drawled, as soon as he had closed the door to the Great Hall.
"Yes sir," Harry replied and together with the Potions Master returned to his own room, where he slept through the whole afternoon.
Only when the last afternoon class was over, Snape woke him up and told him that the twins were supposed to babysit him for the rest of the day.
"I don't need a babysitter," Harry replied, indignantly, hesitantly glaring at his guardian.
Snape chuckled. "I know that, but it's safer for you to have some responsible, older students with you at all times out of class. If anyone wanted to harm you, you wouldn't be able to protect yourself, would you?" He quirked an eyebrow.
"No sir," Harry agreed in a small voice. "Sir, may we perhaps use the Potions classroom and brew something together?" he asked, giving the professor a pleading look.
Snape looked at the boy in surprise, before he replied, "Yes you may. However, I wish to be informed about the potion that you're brewing."
"Yes sir," Harry promised, happily, just when an alarm alerted them to the fact that the Weasley twins were standing in front of the Potions Master's office.
"We'd like to brew a prank potion for our younger brother Ronald..."
"... because he insulted Harry at lunchtime," the twins informed the professor upon his question if they would like to brew together with Harry.
"No, let's not prank Ron," Harry replied, giving Snape a help searching look.
The Potions Master fetched a book from the shelf and held it out to the twins. "I do not tolerate pranks played against one single student or just one specific House. Do you understand me? If you have to prank people, then prank the whole student body."
"Or the teachers," Fred added, grinning.
"Thank you so much sir," George added, wearing the same broad grin.
"Can we perhaps brew the potion, which we made on the last day of the summer course?" Harry suddenly threw in. "You know the one that makes people sing. If we begin immediately, we could just finish it on time for dinner..." He slowly trailed off, wondering if he could just ask Snape's house-elf to put the potion into the teachers' dinner.
"Yes, we could take it to the kitchen..."
"... and ask the house elves to put it into the teacher's beverages at dinner," the twins spoke up, apparently nursing the same thoughts as Harry.
Snape smirked. "Very well then, I'm going to excuse myself from dinner tonight," he replied and showed the boys, where they could find that specific recipe.
The three boys managed to finish their potion on time, and the Potions Master kindly handed the phial to his elf for further use, before he ushered the boys to attend dinner.
Grinning and giggling, Harry followed the twins to the Great Hall, where he hesitantly approached the Head table and addressed Professor McGonagall.
"Professor, please excuse Professor Snape from dinner," he told her, "he's busy brewing some potion for the hospital wing."
"All right Harry, thanks for informing me," McGonagall replied gently and asked, "Is everything all right, Harry? Are you faring well in spite of your age?"
"Yes Professor, it's great. I like being here, even if I'm so small," Harry replied, giving the professor a genuine smile, before he returned to the Gryffindor table.
In the morning, Harry was aged up to five years.
"Welcome to the world of the five-year-olds," Snape said, smirking. "Do you need a pain relieving potion?"
"No thank you," Harry replied, thinking, 'I've dealt with much worse pain when I was at the Dursleys.' Aloud he said, "I wished I could grow two years in a day."
The Potions Master remained thoughtful for an instant, before he suggested, "Maybe we'll be able to skip the ten-year day and just do two years in one step then, but we'll have to wait and see. Right now we can only do one year in a day. I'm sorry, Harry."
"That's all right, sir," Harry replied, smiling. "Thank you so much sir... for taking me in during this time. I really appreciate it."
"You're very welcome," Snape replied, and Harry had the impression as if a small smile appeared on his guardian's face, which was replaced by the usual blank mask in a blink.
"Professor, will I have to return to the Dursleys during the holidays?" Harry voiced the question that had been poking his mind during the last few minutes. "I mean, not that I'd return there," he added. "I'd just leave and rent a room somewhere again. But if there was a possibility that I could remain at Hogwarts, I'd prefer that of course."
The older wizard gave him a pensive look, before he explained, "You'll be able to remain in Gryffindor during the winter holidays. However, Professor Dumbledore will probably insist that you return to your relatives during the summer." Seeing the five-year-old's face darken considerably, he continued, "The only reason for a student to remain at Hogwarts over the summer would be to be the ward of any of the professors here. This time, the Headmaster made me your guardian; however, that was because of your age, and I don't think he'll easily relent if we asked him if I could remain your guardian, provided that's what you want anyway."
"I'd love that sir," Harry replied, smiling. "It would be brilliant.
"Maybe there's a way," Snape said, thoughtfully. "Since I'm the Potions professor, the sole Potions Master and Head of Slytherin, I have a lot of work to do, and I'm entitled to hire a so-called student assistant, who would assist with the brewing and, depending on his or her age, also assist with the lower years' classes. So far I have refused to employ a student; however..."
"I'd love to become your student assistant," Harry interrupted the man in excitement. "And then I could also assist during the summer holidays, right?"
The professor couldn't help grinning at the boy's excitement. "Indeed," he agreed, nodding. He glanced at his wrist watch. "As much as I'd like to continue this conversation, I'm afraid that we have to attend breakfast.
The Gryffindor and Slytherin first years' first morning class was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry once again slipped into the seat next to Draco, before Hermione sat on his other side.
However, as soon as the professor entered the classroom, Harry's head began to hurt badly. He pressed both hands against his head, closing his eyes in agony.
"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked immediately, looking at him in concern.
"My head," Harry whispered, "hurts."
"Shall I take you to the hospital wing?" Draco offered.
"I'll do that," Hermione said in determination and rose from her chair, quickly explaining to the teacher that she'd take Harry to the hospital wing.
On the way, Harry noticed how his headache slowly receded. "I think it's all right now," he told his friend. "I don't think I want to go back to that class right now though.
"You won't," Hermione replied in a firm voice and led him to Madam Pomfrey, who kept him for a few hours, before she allowed him to attend lunch and his afternoon classes as long as he wanted.
In the afternoon on the following day, six-year-old Harry sat on the ground, watching his classmates trying to mount the school brooms in order to make their first attempt at flying. Horrified, he observed how Neville had an accident, ending up being taken to the hospital wing by Madam Hooch.
As soon as the teacher had left the grounds, Draco began to play with Neville's Remembrall, making Harry very upset. Even if he had so far got along well with Draco, he could not tolerate the situation. Prying Hermione's broom out of her hands, he rose into the air, causing Draco to laugh and shout, "Catch it, Harry."
'I will,' Harry resolved and caught the ball, right before it threatened to crash into the castle's thick wall. With the ball firmly in his left hand, he descended to the ground, handing Hermione's broom back.
Hermione was just finished scolding him, stating that the school brooms were not made for six-year-olds to ride on them, when Professor McGonagall headed out onto the grounds.
"Mr. Potter, please come with me," she called him over, and Harry slowly made his way over to the professor, afraid what she would do with him.
To his surprise, she merely introduced him to the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, suggesting him as Seeker for the Quidditch team, provided that her colleagues would agree to skip the rule that first-years weren't allowed to play on the House teams.
However, when Harry returned home after dinner, his guardian was very angry. "How dare you disobey Madam Hooch, who instructed the whole class to remain on the ground, and that after Madam Pomfrey had already forbidden you to fly?" he hissed, causing Harry to flinch at the upset tone.
"I'm sorry sir," Harry replied in a small voice.
"Sorry is not enough Harry," Snape said firmly. "Until you're back to your eleven-year-old self, you're going to be grounded.
Harry stared at the professor in shock. "I'm sorry sir," he repeated, unsurely averting his eyes to the floor.
However, Snape remained firm, and during the weekend, Harry was not allowed to go anywhere except for the meals in the Great Hall.
'At least I can see my friends three times a day, and he doesn't make me clean dirty cauldrons like he did with the students in detention the other day but allows me to brew with him,' Harry thought, gratefully, when he went to bed on Saturday evening.
On Sunday, when Harry again assisted in the Potions lab, Snape suddenly spoke up.
"Harry, would you like to play Seeker for Gryffindor?" he queried, quirking an eyebrow.
The eight-year-old let out a long sigh. "On the one hand, I'd love to play Quidditch for a House team, but on the other hand..." He slowly trailed off, thinking about what the Sorting Hat had said to him a few days ago.
"Why but?" the professor asked in surprise.
"At the Sorting, the Hat said that I'd belong into Slytherin and would only be sorted into Gryffindor because of my age. Sir do you believe I could possibly be re-sorted, when I'm back to eleven?" Harry blurted out, giving his guardian a pleading look. "I mean Hermione, Neville and the twins are really nice, but knowing that I'm in the wrong House..."
"I understand," Snape replied, pensively. "We can ask the Headmaster tomorrow. However, I'm not sure if he'll agree, because he's probably very happy having you in his former House. I'll speak with him and Professor McGonagall tomorrow," he promised.
"Thank you sir," Harry said, gratefully.
On Monday morning, Harry was aged up to nine, and the professor promised that he would be able to receive a stronger potion the next morning, which would return him to his eleven-year-old self.
'Tomorrow I'm going to be eleven again, and maybe I can be re-sorted,' Harry thought in excitement, when he walked to his first morning class. However, the day went downhill from his first class onwards.
Draco, who was usually sitting on Harry's right side, while Hermione sat on his left, was late for their Charms class, and Ronald Weasley slipped into the empty seat next to Harry. Seeing that his classmate was unable to correctly do the spell that they were told to practise, Harry tried to help the other boy, who then once again insulted him badly, apparently not liking the fact that a nine-year-old tried to correct him.
The next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and like during the last class, Harry's head began to hurt again, as soon as the professor entered the classroom. Not wanting to attract attention, Harry did not say anything and somehow endured the pain throughout the class. 'It must have something to do with Professor Quirrell,' he thought, resolving to speak with his guardian about the matter as soon as possible.
When Harry returned to the dungeons after the last afternoon class, he told the professor about his headaches that occurred in the presence of Professor Quirrell. However, the Potions Master did not comment on the matter and remained thoughtful and quiet, while he engrossed himself in his brewing. Sometimes, Harry and the professor talked about various matters, while they were brewing; however, at other times, they quietly worked together.
After dinner, however, when Harry made himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room in order to work on his homework, his guardian finally spoke up.
"Harry," he began in a soft voice. "There's something I'd like to suggest to you. Reflecting your current situation, I've decided to ask you if you want to become my apprentice." Seeing that Harry gave him a questioning look, he explained, "Becoming my apprentice would mean that you'd specialize on Potions from your first year onwards and at the same time would be able to skip some of the other, usual classes like, for example, History of Magic etc. It would also mean that you'd automatically become my ward. Therefore, I could personally teach you in Defence Against the Dark Arts, so that you didn't have to attend Professor Quirrell's class. A further point is that as my ward you were entitled to remain at Hogwarts at any time, even during the summer. "
"Oh, that would be awesome," Harry excitedly interrupted the professor.
However, Snape held up his hand to stop the boy and continued, "There are also several disadvantages though. You'd make an important decision about your field of specialisation at the early age of eleven. You wouldn't be able to choose a guardian of your liking, and you would not belong to one specific Hogwarts House, which means that you wouldn't be able to play Quidditch on a House team." He gave the boy a sharp look, before he continued, "Harry, I don't expect a reply to this suggestion tonight. I want you to think about the matter, possibly speak with some of the other adults to hear their advice and to inform me about your decision whenever you're ready to make it."
"Sir," Harry replied immediately. "Thank you so much for your offer. I don't have to think about it. I'd like to become your apprentice if that's really okay for you."
Snape smirked. "If it wasn't, I wouldn't have suggested it. Nevertheless, I'd like you to sleep over it, before you decide. Is there anyone, with whom you'd wish to speak about the matter?"
"Not really," Harry replied, thoughtfully. "Or maybe Hermione and the twins if that's possible."
"Of course," the professor reassured him and called his house-elf. "Cicero, please ask Ms. Granger and the Weasley twins to come to my office right away."
When Harry woke up in the morning, his long conversation with his three friends was still at the front of his mind. 'They said it was the best that could happened to me and that they'd still be my friends. I'm sure that I want it,' he mused, as he absentmindedly gulped down the potion that aged him up to eleven years.
Handing back the empty goblet, he informed the professor, "Sir, I'd love to become your apprentice."
"Very well, I'll inform the Headmaster accordingly," the Potions Master replied, and Harry noticed that a small smile played on his lips.
"Minerva, Albus," Severus greeted his colleagues, before he came straight to the point. "Albus, the other day, you told me that I'd be able to request a student assistant."
"Yes my boy," the Headmaster replied, smiling.
Severus nodded in understanding and continued, "I have decided instead of hiring a student assistant to make Mr. Potter my apprentice."
"Did Harry agree to this?" McGonagall asked crisply, giving him a sharp look.
"Yes Minerva, he agreed, mainly for three reasons. First of all because he loves Potions and it very adept, and secondly because he will automatically become my ward and won't have to return to his abusive relatives. The third point is," he glanced at the Sorting Hat, "that Sopho apparently told him he'd put him into Gryffindor, because the lions were nice enough to look after a three-year-old; otherwise he'd put him into Slytherin. It's understandable that the boy doesn't feel overly comforted in Gryffindor under this condition."
Severus noticed immediately that the Headmaster did not like it, although he grudgingly agreed. "Harry needs the blood protection that only his aunt can provide. He shouldn't give it up just to become a Potions apprentice," Dumbledore said, shaking his head in annoyance. "Also it would be better for Harry to receive a normal Hogwarts education in all subjects in order for him to be able to defeat Voldemort in the future."
"I'll see to the boy's education," Severus promised in a firm voice.
Minerva cast the old wizard a menacing glare. "Albus, it's not Severus' fault that Harry has taken such a liking to brewing potions but yours."
The Potions Master smirked. "Exactly Minerva. I'm truly sorry, Albus, but had you not placed him with his atrocious relatives, he'd never had stayed at Diagon Alley attending a remedial Potions course during the summer holidays," he then stated, quirking an eyebrow at a very pensive Headmaster.
"And I wouldn't have had to sort a three-year-old know-it-all," the Sorting Hat threw in, accusingly, haughtily fluffing his brim, as the Headmaster sighed in defeat.
Thank you so much for your kind comments for the first two chapters. I hope you enjoyed this little story.