Brother of All, With Generous Hand

Author’s Note: I don’t own Harry Potter. I probably don’t even do a good job at representing the characters. I also do not care. I’m bored, and my husband is not home to amuse me. If I did own Harry potter they would quite likely run around in leather outfits and play freeze-tag for a chapter out of each book. Obviously, I write to amuse myself. So that you all know, there will be no leather clad freeze-tag. I figured I should probably ease your minds. On another note, this is the point where I say…

On with the show.

Chapter 1 (In which Ron feels mistreated and Harry is welcomed back to Hogwarts)

His hair was the color of a flamingo. After the gel had been applied, it almost had taken the shape of a flamingo as well. He hadn’t planned for this change, because it caused him an almost physical pain to see it that way; for some reason, however, it was important to Hermione that he didn’t wash it out until the evening was over. “I may very well kill myself.” Ron stated dejectedly. Surely Hermione wouldn’t treat him this way if she really loved him.

“Ronald, it is not that bad.” Hermione smirked. “I think it is actually quite attractive, in a Billy Idol sort of way.” Hermione twisted a strand of Ron’s gelled hair and sighed. “I’ll have to make sure that no one steals you away from me tonight.”

Ron frowned and looked back in the mirror. “If the persons at this muggle club are interested in my bubble gum hair, then I would not be interested in them. Besides…” Ron tried to think of something flattering to say. He had forgotten how Hermione disliked him to differentiate between muggles and wizards. He had also forgotten that she had been planning this night for him. How she had thought that ripped jeans, a black turtle neck, and pink hair would be “for him” was beyond him. “…I will be spending too much time protecting my Hermione, to be noticing others.”

Hermione took the flattery in stride. “I don’t need your protection.” Hermione straightened her corset and smiled at herself in the mirror. Life had been easier between her and Ron, since she stopped taking every stupid thing he said personally. Ron said a lot of stupid things.

Since fifth year at Hogwarts, Hermione had blossomed into an even more beautiful young woman, and Ron had no idea why she was with him. Ron entwined his arms around Hermione’s waist from behind and laid his head on her shoulder. “You are beautiful.”

“And smart. Don’t forget smart.” Harry smiled at his friends as he stared at them from the doorway. Stare was too strong of a word. He was gazing, he told himself. Harry crossed his arms and sighed. Maybe he should have spent more time looking for a mate and less time saving the world. “Going to a party?”

“A gay club, I suspect.” Ron looked back in the mirror and then grinned stupidly at Hermione, who was frowning at him. Ron said a lot of stupid things.

Hermione rolled her eyes heavenward and shook head. “We are going to a club, and Ron is going to look chic whether he likes it or not.”

“I look more like a fairy princess.” Ron grunted and scratched the back of his head. The gel made his scalp itch. “No offense, Harry.”

“It’s more offensive that you singled me out with that last comment, Ron. When you do that it means you think I’m a fairy princess.” Harry grinned as he said this. Ron wasn’t actually stupid… he was retarded. Thinking this way made Harry feel better about all of the stupid things Ron said. Ron said a lot of stupid things.

“Does it?” The king of social graces, questioned. “Well, you are… you know…” Ron stalled and stuttered for a moment.

“Gay.” Hermione supplied the word. “It is time to hush now, Ron. You are not allowed to speak for the next five minutes. Have you any plans for the evening, Harry?”

Harry shrugged and smiled over the blush that was crawling up Ron’s neck and face. “I have some past ‘DADA’ lessons to brush up on before I can start making my own lesson plans.” Since their last year at Hogwarts and the war against Voldemort , Harry had been asked to take over the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He certainly hoped there would no longer be any reason for the class to be applicable to real life, but you never could know whether a wizard was going to turn bad or a dark creature was going to jump out from the darkness.

“That’s good, Harry…” Hermione looked unsure of whether she wanted to continue her thought, but of course she would. “…but remember that you are still young, and you need to get out and socialize with people other than the social rejects of Hogwarts.”

Ron turned a little redder and grunted indignantly. He was counting the minutes until he was allowed to speak once more. He was nothing, if not obedient. He realized that if he fought Hermione over the little things, like the permission to speak his thoughts, Hermione would hold out on him in the bedroom. Women, he thought sadly, hold so much power for little good reason.

Harry nodded slowly. “I’ll consider going out for a drink tonight. Maybe I’ll visit Hogsmeade, after I study up.” Or maybe I’ll visit Dobby in the kitchens and have a snack there, he considered.

“Ronald, put away your wand. We won’t need them.” Hermione instructed, authoritatively.

Ron scrunched up his forehead and frowned deeper. “I…”

“Ron…” Hermione pointed a thin, elegant finger at him, as she put away her makeup. “I didn’t say you could speak.” Ron sighed and rolled his eyes.

“We are going to a safe place, and if we run into any problems, we know a number of wandless spells for our defense.” Hermione wrapped her arm around Ron’s bicep and winked at Harry. “We are going to travel by flue to my parents’ house and then by cab from there. Hope your night is a good one, Harry. Don’t study too hard.”

Ron was stationary as Hermione started toward the chimney. She stopped and looked at her boyfriend, curiously. He cut his eyes toward Harry and looked almost pleading.

“Oh, of course you can say goodbye to Harry, Ron.” Hermione was pleased that Ron was being so compliant. It not-so-secretly turned her on when he acted the submissive roll for her.

Ron took a deep breath and told his friend goodbye. “If you don’t save me from this torture tonight, I will off myself by morning.” It wasn’t a very good goodbye. Less of the, ‘I’ll see you around’ and more of the ‘I’m going to kill myself’, but it was still a sort of goodbye.

Harry smiled and the anger that spread across Hermione’s pretty face and the never-ending flush that spread across Ron’s. “Have fun, you two. Don’t destroy each other.” Hermione dragged Ron toward the flue and, with a puff of green, the two arguing figures vanished.

Harry shook his head and smirked. It was comforting that he was able to make his own plans, dress himself, decide when and what clubs were to be attended, and decide when he should or should not speak his own mind. If having a boyfriend or girlfriend meant giving up free will, he didn’t need it. He wanted the companionship that it brought but without the headache.

Harry left the bedroom and went downstairs. Since his last year at Hogwarts was over, Harry had decided to live at Grimwauld Place. He was having Ron and Hermione stay with him until school started back for him. They had helped him clean up the place and had spent quite a lot of time getting it ready for the planned renovations.

“Does Harry Potter have many studies to look over?” Dobby scared Harry for the hundredth time that month.

“No, Dobby.” Harry breathed deep. “I just wanted to make sure I was prepared for my classes.”

Dobby nodded and smiled. “Harry Potter is wanted at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore wants him to join the dinner of the teachers.” Dobby grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him toward a table in the hallway, where a small envelope lay. It had an insignia of a Phoenix on it.

Harry picked up the envelope and looked at it a moment. “I’m not sure whether I have time, Dobby.” It was a lie. Harry had all the time in the world, but he really wasn’t sure whether he wanted to see the other teachers in the school, unless he was passing them in the hallways.

Dobby smiled in an almost knowing way. “Mr. Harry Potter is a very important person with a lot to worry him. Dobby will tell the headmaster of your worries.”

Harry grunted. He didn’t want Dobby to tell Dumbledore he was having worries. “No, Dobby. I am not worried; I am just tired.” Harry put on a dazzling smile, albeit a fake one.

“Harry Potter must attend the dinner of the teachers or Professor Dumbledore will worry for him.” Dobby sounded very reasonable when he made this statement.

Harry sighed. “Alright, Dobby. Let’s go then.” Harry reached to take the house elf’s hand but Dobby hugged his leg instead. Harry smiled as the creature gripped him tightly and apparated the two of them. Harry shook off the shock of the spell and searched their surroundings. They were in Dumbledore’s office. “Why did you bring me here instead of the great hall, Dobby?”

Dobby shrugged and smiled sweetly. “Dobby was given orders. I must help with dinner now, Harry Potter.” In an instant, the space where Dobby had been standing was empty.

Harry sighed, yet again. “What are we playing at, Professor?” Harry asked the air.

To Harry’s surprise, the air answered. “A game of chance, I believe.” The air had a name… Severus Snape. “Professor Dumbledore asked that you, Minerva, and I run in a little contest of sorts.” Snape sauntered toward the nearest chair, instead of his usual swooping. “He thinks that it is helpful for the teachers to bond, as they are attempting to kill one another.”

“It is a good plan, Severus, and you love it.” Dumbledore’s laughing eyes were bright as he walked down the spiral staircase to the bottom level of his office and joined the other two men. “Harry, have a piece of candy.” Dumbledore pointed at the jar on his desk, as he sat in his chair.

Severus Snape stared at the Head Master and grunted. “I do not like the idea of a competition that I am forced to be up against Potter and the shrew.”

Professor McGonagall seemed to appear out of nowhere, when this statement was made. “You will come to regret that statement, Severus. Remember that I am a cat and not a shrew. May keep you from saying anything you’ll regret in the future.”

“Minerva, I assure you that although I say many things, I never regret a one of them.” Snape took a random piece of candy from Dumbledore’s desk, and without thinking about it popped it into his mouth. He chewed it and in a moment spit it back out into the palm of his hand. “Earthworm? Who makes up these flavors?”

“I’m guessing a sadistic potions master.” Harry replied straight faced. “I would think you would know your own people’s work.”

“Well, that could have almost hurt.” Severus sneered as he threw away the nasty tasting bean. “If I had a heart, that is.”

Professor McGonagall picked up a bean and tasted it. “Bean flavored. Original.”

Professor Dumbledore smiled at his three favorite teachers. “The students will grade the teachers.”

“What?!” It was a chorus of distressed yelps from the three teachers.

Dumbledore’s smile never waivered. “I thought you would like my contest. It is time for the teachers to be the students, once again.”

Harry put on a sort of pout. “I was a student just last year.”

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. “You were a very good student, and you have always been a good teacher as well. That is my point in all of this. Different students will be picked from different houses, and they will take points and give points accordingly.”

“Is Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw participating.” Harry asked curiously.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, they are. I have already met with Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick. The rumors should spread accordingly.” The headmaster seemed pleased with himself. “Let’s eat.”

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The main hall was dressed in fairy lights and stars. Harry was enamored with the decorations and he was once again surprised at the amount of food that the house elves could produce. He wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be an entire antelope at the far end of the table, and it looked like it was roasted to perfection. Harry wasn’t sure how antelope tasted, but Hagrid seemed to be enjoying it.

“What are you thinking, Harry?” Professor McGonagall looked at the boy worriedly. Harry looked gaunt and weary.

“I’m thinking that watching Hagrid eat an entire antelope may have made me lose my appetite.” Harry’s stomach growled argumentatively, but his eyes quieted the angry organ.

Minerva nodded and put some mint jelly on a muffin. “It’s an elk.” It was her only reply, as she finished her food.

“I need a drink.” Harry muttered to no one in particular.

“There are no students present, Potter. Have as many drinks as you can hold.” Snape said it in his nicest tone, which wasn’t all that nice. “You could also take this time to fix up your quarters. A few charms should allow you enough room for a library and a study, as well.”

Harry scrunched up his nose. He was not sure, but he thought Snape was attempting to be conversational. At a stretch, he would say the potions professor was attempting to be pleasant.

Snape looked at Harry over the steam that was rising from his cup of ginger lemon tea. He hoped Harry couldn’t tell that he was being civil. No use letting the boy feel wanted. It wasn’t like he was going to last any longer than any other Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, “Golden Boy” or not. Snape looked away from Harry and shook his head slowly as he gripped his mug with both hands and sipped the hot sweet liquid.

Harry mused over the weeks to come and sighed. “What if I do a bad job?”

“Not possible.”

“It’s inevitable.”

“Severus! You are insufferable sometimes.”

“Minerva.” Snape grinned viciously. “You are a pandering old bat.”

“Snake.”

“Bitch.”

Harry stared wide-eyed between the two teachers, dumbfounded.

“Harry, close your mouth or a fairy might fly in.” Professor Flitwick instructed, in between bites of mutton pie. “They are just being playful, Harry. Adults do that when children are not bearing witness.”

Harry felt severely uncomfortable, sitting in between the two ‘playful’ teachers. What if they started playfully casting Unforgivables on one another? Harry looked at his plate and scratched the back of his neck. “I think I’m going to go to my quarters.”

“Would you like me to show you where your quarters are Mr. Pot… Professor Potter?” Professor McGonagall smiled mildly and turned her head to the side. “Your mother would be so proud of you.”

Harry beamed at this comment. “No thank you, Professor. I would actually enjoy roaming the school with no one to tell me where I am forbidden to go.” Harry stood up and started as his dishes disappeared.

Minerva nodded. “House elves.” She stated matter-of-factly. “They sometimes take your dishes before you finish eating… they are so intent on getting them clean.”

Harry cleared his throat and nodded slowly. “I’m off then.” Harry wasn’t sure where he was off to, but he was ready to do a little aimless wandering.

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This is the point where all good boys and girls (ladies and gentlemen, ogres and princes, transvestites and vanilla babies, etc.) do the right thing and review. Also, if you can’t say anything nice… Don’t waste your time by reading something you hate. Your time is valuable… right? Go read a quick and dirty PWP and quit reading this rising plot bullsh*t. Love you all. ~*gypsyqueen*~

(On a final note, the title of the story “Brother of All, With Generous Hand” is a poem by Walt Whitman and I do not own it either.)

(This chapter has been edited to make sure the paragraphs no longer run together.)