Then and Now

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own any characters within the canonical universe. I make no money from this story.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Before I begin this chapter, I would like to thank two more authors from Portkey.org for inspiring me to write: Barton Fink and AppleFritters. Barton Fink's fanfiction gave me the idea to write my own spin on something from the book that was never mentioned. Anyway, read on, and remember that reviews and concrit are always welcome. Enjoy!


Then and Now
Act One: Chapter One: Recollections II


Harry leaned on the fence of the back patio, unable to wrench his mind from thinking about his return to Hogwarts after what everyone called the Second Wizarding War…


-=-=[ Flashback ]=-=-


He never expected to be sitting in the Great Hall again, though part of him felt right at home seeing faces new and old sitting at their appropriate House tables. All eyes turned towards Headmistress McGonagall as she stood.

“I am sure you all find it…surprising…to be back so soon, especially after the events that transpired last spring. As much as you want to be at home celebrating with your families, business as usual must return.”

She slowly scanned the room before continuing. “Unfortunately, because of the events that occurred at Hogwarts last year, as well as the appalling curriculum and unsavory conduct undertaken by our…replacement staff, second-year students and older will have to take their rightful previous year’s classes from this point onward until Christmas. After the Christmas break, they will attend their proper-level classes.”

She eyed each table individually as she spoke. “To last year’s seventh-year students, I’m glad to see many of you returning. You have done things which no one should have expected you to do at any age.” She paused as she met Harry’s gaze for the briefest of moments. “You have seen and done and experienced the stuff of nightmares, and because of your efforts here, I pray that you will never have to do so again. You who fought here earlier this year are heroes to those who could not fight and those that could not be here. The staff of Hogwarts and I are more proud of you than you could possibly imagine. Never forget that.”

A third-year Ravenclaw stood up and slowly began to applaud. Three Hufflepuff students followed, and very quickly all the Hogwarts students took to their feet, cheering, raising their fists in the air and clapping raucously. Harry looked round, a bright smile on his face and saw Neville raising a fist with a broad smile.

McGonagall raised her hands, and slowly the din died away and everyone sat back down. Once the hall was quiet again, a thin smile grew on her face. “Despite your heroism and your acts of bravery and self-sacrifice, don’t think for a moment that we are going to be lenient on you during your studies.” A rumble of laughter floated over the student body. “Due to my taking over duties as Headmistress of Hogwarts, Transfiguration classes will be taught by Professor Aydin Standrick.” As the students applauded in welcome, she turned towards the other teachers. A young man stood, put one arm across his middle and bowed at the hip, staying angled for a moment before straightening up and reseating himself. Harry was taken aback. Compared to the other wizards and witches among the staff, he stuck out like a sore thumb. His skin was a deep chocolate, similar to Kingsley Shacklebolt’s, but his short, straight hair was white-blond and looked like it was gelled back. His eyes were an uncomfortable shade of platinum and, where the other teachers wore flowing robes, he wore a crisp suit coat and tie of matching color. Glancing at Ron and Hermione, they shared the same bewildered look.

“Professor Standrick will also be taking the helm of Head of House for Gryffindor,” McGonagall announced. Mild applause erupted from the Gryffindor table. “Professor Flitwick will take on my former role as Deputy Professor.” The Hufflepuff students cheered loudly as the short professor blushed and waved away the praise. Professor McGonagall’s lips pressed into a thin line as the hall fell silent. “A Professor for the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes has yet to be announced. In wake of the events that happened here last spring, I am working with the interim Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, to find a suitable replacement. An announcement will be made as soon as a teacher approved by both myself and the interim Minister has been found.” A murmur of discussion began to grow amongst the House tables, and Harry scanned the head table but found no new face aside from Standrick.

“Harry?” He turned to Ron. “What do you make of it? No Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?”

Harry could only shake his head and shrug. “I don’t know. Shacklebolt and McGonagall are both in the Order. Together, they could find a good teacher.”

“The Ministry’s got way too many problems to work with Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

“Well, the position is cursed,” Ron quipped. “Maybe people she tried to interview went running once she told them what classes they would be teaching.”

Hermione glared at him. “That was when Vol…” She rolled her eyes when Ron went pale. “…when You-Know-Who went into hiding. He’s gone now. The position can’t possibly be dangerous anymore.”

“Can’t it?” Ron asked.

“Seven years running is a pretty convincing streak, Hermione,” Harry conceded gently.

“Headmistress!” a voice rang out suddenly. All eyes flew in their general direction and the three of them realized that it was Neville that spoke out.

McGonagall stood slowly. “Yes, Mister Longbottom?”

“Do you think that the Ministry will be too busy to recommend a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?”

“The Ministry…”

“What do you think, Professor?”

McGonagall was at a complete loss for words. Her gaze flicked briefly at the other teachers. “Well, well…yes.”

“Many of us fought last spring, didn’t we?”

“What is your point, Mister Longbottom?” she asked impatiently. Harry felt her firm stare bore into his own. He thought she was expecting him to be speaking up.

“Most of us fought. Some of us never came back.” He looked around the room. “A lot more of us wouldn’t have come back if we didn’t learn how to fight.” He looked over at the Hufflepuff table, turned to the Ravenclaw table and beheld his own. “I think there’s only one person who would be the perfect choice to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“Well then, who might that be, Mister Longbottom?” The question didn’t need to be asked. Neville turned and spoke his nomination with a calm voice, though it might as well have been a shout so loud that the entire school would hear.

“Harry Potter.”


-=-=[ End Flashback ]=-=-


Harry shook his head to himself. “That sure floored her.”

“Floored who, Harry?”

He rose quickly and turned around. “Oh, Hermione.”

“Mum and Dad were wondering where you ran off to,” she said. “Uncle Rob told me you were out here,” Harry couldn’t help but stare in awe at her. She wore a thick cable-knit sweater the color of deep purple and dark blue jeans that hugged her hips. She wore a pair of simple black running shoes, and red streaks peppered her brown hair. She held a champagne flute in each hand and handed one to him as she stood beside him.

“Sorry. Even with Muggles, you know how I am with crowds,” he said sheepishly.

“Knut for your thoughts?”

“You’d have a few Galleons in a heartbeat,” he replied with a smile. “Just thinking about what happened after the War.” He turned again to lean on the patio fence. “Thinking about Neville nominating me as a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “You were…are the best choice,” she said with a laugh and taking a sip of her wine. “McGonagall and the other professors had one devil of a time calming everyone down.”

He laughed. “The chaos was unforgettable.” He shifted and felt her arm against his. Looking into her eyes, he saw many emotions in there. Consequently, he felt emotions stir within him as well, some not very warming…


-=-=[ Flashback ]=-=-


The older Gryffindor students were scattered into little groups in the common room, talking quietly about their holidays or laughing about the pandemonium that occurred in the Great Hall.

“You should have taken it, Harry,” Ron said with a laugh. “McGonagall’s reaction was hilarious! Professor Flitwick looked like he was going to pop!”

“I would have backed him,” Hermione said with a light tone in her voice as she continued to read. Harry and Ron stared at her, and she straightened up in her chair defensively as she looked up from her book.

“What? I think we learned as much from Harry as we did from Lupin when he taught us,” she replied.

“Who’re you and what’ve you done with Hermione Granger?” Ron asked, grinning. “Normally, you would have talked our ears off about how that would have been a bad idea or how he’d be too young to do it, or how he’d be able to teach and do schoolwork at the same time…”

“Do you have cloth between your ears, Ron? Remember Dumbledore’s Army?”

Ron was at a loss for words. “Well…”

She never gave him a chance. “What about the spells Harry learned from Snape’s book?”

“You wanted him to give the book up…!” Ron tried to counter, but Hermione impatiently shook her head.

“What about everything that happened last year? What about Voldemort attacking Hogwarts?”

“I didn’t forget about those!” Ron said in a loud voice. Harry, now forgotten by his two bickering friends, looked around and noticed that everyone was looking at them and listening to the argument. He looked back at the two of them.

“Guys, I don’t think this is the time or the place…”

Hermione never heard him. “The fact remains that ever since Harry was brought into the magical world, he’s been exposed to the Dark Arts and managed to survive! Sure the both of us were there, but in the end, it all came down to Harry!” She stood to her full height now, fire blazing in her eyes. “Remember the Philosopher’s Stone? The Chamber of Secrets? The Triwizard Tournament?” Her last remark made Harry cringe. Despite all the horrible events that happened during the Second Wizarding War, the Triwizard Tournament and the events that immediately followed still brought about dark feelings.

“Hermione…”

“I agree with you once about some hare-brained idea and all of a sudden I’ve gone mental?” She turned and slammed her book shut. “Maybe I’ve become used to the ideas you two manage to come up with, even if sometimes they do work.” She glared daggers at Harry. “Maybe it’s because I’m a Muggle-born, a Mudblood, isn’t it? I could never understand the inner workings of the mind of someone from a wizarding family.” With that, she stormed off, up the stairs towards the girls’ dormitories. All eyes followed her, and as soon as all heard a door slam shut, everyone in the common room stared incredulously at Harry and Ron.

“…What was that all about?” Harry asked, turning to Ron, who was deathly pale. “Why did she look at me? I’ve never called her a Mu—“

“Just drop it,” Ron said in a low voice.

“What do you mean? I never said—“

“I said DROP IT, MATE!” Ron shouted. He looked right into Harry’s eyes, his gaze smoldering and his fists clenching. Without a word said between them, he quietly stalked off towards the boys’ dormitories, every person in the common room watching him leave. All eyes turned to Harry.

“…What?” he asked, looking around. “I never said anything.”

“I know,” someone piped up. Harry turned once more to see Neville taking the fore. He turned towards one of the girls by the stairs. “Ginny, could you go check on her?”

Without a backwards glance, she was up the stairs.

“Things will cool over,” Harry said, not sounding very reassuring. “I hope.” He walked uneasily towards the boy’s rooms.

“Harry?”

He turned to look at Neville. “What is it?”

“I wouldn’t have nominated you to teach the class if I didn’t think you would be perfect for the job.”

He smiled genuinely. “Thanks, Neville. It means a lot.” Unable to think of anything else to say, he added, “good night.” Heading up the steps towards his old room, he opened the door and saw Ron lying on his bed facing away from the door. He wanted to talk to Ron but thought better of it. Instead he turned on his side, facing away from his best friend, and laid awake wondering what had spurred his two best friends to argue so ferociously…


-=-=[ End Flashback ]=-=-


He looked into his champagne flute, swirling it idly. “You know, Hermione, I always thought that after the War, I’d be spending more time at the Burrow.” He stood briefly to open his arms wide. “I always thought that I’d be with Ron talking about work or Quidditch with a cold Butterbeer, or sitting with Mister Weasley and telling him about Muggle life.” He went back to leaning on the fence. “Merlin, I even thought that Ginny and I would be zipping around outside the Burrow on brooms and see who would be faster in catching a Snitch.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I honestly never thought I’d be spending the holidays back in the Muggle world.” He turned to Hermione. “I never thought I’d be spending the holidays with your family.”

Hermione touched his arm, trying to comfort him. “The War changed everyone, Harry. Some of us for the better...”

He nodded solemnly at the unspoken words.


-=-=[ Flashback ]=-=-


Breakfast the following morning was an awkward manner to say the least. The stares of the student body normally kept him on edge as he entered, but the stares from his peers at the Gryffindor table made his insides roil like he’d eaten a month’s supply of Puking Pasties in one sitting. Settling into a seat closest to the hall doors, he took a plate and helped himself to some jam on toast and a glass of pumpkin juice.

“You all right, Harry?” a voice asked. He looked up and saw Ginny standing over him.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I don’t know, Gin.” He shuffled over. “Have a seat.”

The regular droning of conversations sounded around them as Ginny sat down beside him and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Gin, how’s Hermione?”

She looked down despondently and shook her head. “She didn’t say anything to me, Harry. I just sat on the edge of her bed as she cried herself to sleep.”

The toast in his mouth tasted like ash on his tongue. “What happened to those two? I know they have their arguments but I’ve never seen them so...”

“Volatile?” she finished for him.

Harry nodded. “And there’s something to do with me, isn’t there?” He took another bite of his toast, hoping to taste jam. “Did it have to do with me just disappearing?”

“Maybe,” she replied. “I wanted to talk to you about that, though.”

“I know it was selfish of me,” he began, “believe me, I know. It’s like I told those two when I finally talked to them, though. You heard the prophecy back in the Hall of Mysteries, Gin. I met Voldemort expecting to die.” He paused to take a sip of juice. “Look at me now. Not only am I the Boy Who Lived, or The Chosen One, I’m also the Hero of the Wizarding World.”

“You’re still Harry Potter,” she said.

“Yeah, but I’m ‘Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived’, and ‘Harry Potter, the Chosen One’. The night we paid our last respects to Fred…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “…I lay in bed wondering what I wanted to do with my life. Before I realized who I was in this world, I was nothing more than a ‘freak child’, someone who should be shunned or beaten because of my heritage, which in turn was not to be spoken of. My name was like a curse word back in Little Whinging.” He shook his head slowly. “Here, in the world of magic, everyone knew who I was and revered me for the things I wasn’t even responsible for. They expected great things from me when little did they know that I had absolutely no idea what they wanted me to do and how they wanted me to do it. Sure my name was…is spoken with a certain admiration, dare I even say worship, but how do you think I feel knowing I only managed to accomplish what they wanted through the skin of my teeth, without the skill and the flair that they expected to go with the titles they gave me?”

Ginny frowned. “I understand, but…”

“I know you do, Gin. That’s why I left. Only Kreacher understood me well enough not to silently add those titles whenever he and I talked. He and I just cleaned up Grimmauld Place when I was gone. I just woke up, ate and cleaned. I idly walked around the house. By myself, doing simple things like cleaning up the house or sitting down to read the Prophet and have a cup of coffee, I wasn’t the Boy Who Lived, nor was I The Chosen One. In Grimmauld, being a normal person, doing normal things, I was just ‘Harry Potter’.”

“Did you ever tell Ron or Hermione about this?”

“No, actually,” he replied. “After last night, I don’t think either of them will talk to me right now.” He finished his food and stood up. “I was going to go to the Owlery before classes start. Did you want to come with me and see Falwing?”

She frowned. “Falwing…?”

“I had to get a new owl,” he said evenly. “I’ll miss Hedwig, but the clerk at Eeylops gave me their best eagle owl. I haven’t had a chance to see him fly yet.”


=[ End of Recollections II ]=

A/N: As I mentioned in the beginning, I hope you enjoy, and reviews and concrit are always welcome. See you next chapter!