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SIYE Time:21:25 on 28th March 2024
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Harry Potter and the Heart of the Hero
By Jeograph

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Oliver Wood, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape
Genres: General
Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations, Violence
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 206
Summary: Dumbledore is gone, or is he? Harry feels the weight of the world rests on his shoulders, but he is soon to learn that his brooding nature and desire to face his fate alone may be his greatest weakness. It is his emotions, or rather his capacity for emotion that makes him strong, and his relationships his greatest source of strength.

When the summer begins and he faces a fortnight with the Dursleys everything he knows, or rather thinks he knows comes into question. Can he... should he do this all alone? And is he anywhere near ready?

Hogwarts is to be re-opened, the Ministry officially endorsing it as the safest possible place to be. As his birthday approaches there are monumental surprises in store for Harry. Who is he really? And what about his family, who came before his mother and father? Why is the Potter name so famous, and yet so unknown?

Encouraged not to run off to face his fate he returns to Hogwarts for his final year, but surprises abound at the school as well.

Can Harry become the wizard he needs to be to face the Dark Lord? Will he let the people he respects and love really help him? And what of help from unexpected sources; sources he might never trust?


Hitcount: Story Total: 118041; Chapter Total: 1625
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Here we go again. I am aware of the length of time it has been without an update, and I wouldn’t blame anyone for skipping past the story for that reason. It has been five years since the last update and there is still quite a bit of the story left to go. I am writing again, that’s pretty much all I can say, and this story always summons me back. It really wants me to finish it! So, I hope some readers will come back to it, and maybe some new readers will discover it. Many thanks to my Beta readers, Arnel, and SeekersDestony who have shown extraordinary patience with me. I do hope you enjoy the chapter... and I wish you happy reading!




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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Defense Against the Dark... Lord?



Harr y was first to wake in his dormitory. He took advantage of the empty washroom to take a long, hot shower and have a leisurely shave. He was dressed and ready to face the day before any of his bunk mates had even cracked their bed curtains.

He made a couple of attempts to wake Ron, which were met with vehement protest. Dean, Seamus, and Neville all rose and made their way blearily toward the showers, but Ron would not be moved.

Harry left Ron sleeping and proceeded to the common room where Ginny met him minutes later. They went down to breakfast together.

At the Great Hall, breakfast service was well under way, but still early for the majority of students. They were able to enjoy a leisurely, undisturbed meal together before Neville turned up and joined them at the table.

"Morning, Harry, Ginny," Neville said as he took his seat. A place setting appeared before him and several trays of breakfast selections re-appeared.

"Morning, Neville," Harry and Ginny intoned together.

"Have you got your time-tables yet?" Neville asked nodding toward the front of the hall, while loading his plate.

"Not yet," Ginny replied, "We've only just finished breakfast."

"I liked when Professor McGonagall came round and gave them to us. I am not sure about this having to go up front." Neville added apprehensively.

"It does feel a bit more formal, certainly," Harry replied. "But, that's Professor McGonagall, now, isn't it? She is Headmistress, I am sure this is not the least of the changes we'll see."

The five heads of house had set up tables just forward of the teacher's platform, each directly in front of the corresponding house table. Students were expected to see their head of house to receive their time-tables sometime during breakfast.

"Thinking of any electives?" Neville asked.

Members of the different houses had trickled in over the past several minutes and now every table had at least a few students sitting down to breakfast. Dean, Seamus, and a few other Gryffindors entered the hall and took seats at the table near them. Dean and Seamus slid down close to Neville.

"Anyone met our new head of house yet?" Dean asked.

"Not yet," Neville answered. "We were just coming 'round to electives."

"Sounds like everyone's hot on Muggle Studies," Seamus chimed in through his meal. "I never figured on it me-self, 'cause me-mum's a Muggle, I never saw any need. The class always seemed a load of codswallop. But, with this new Muggle professor, everyone's eager to give it a go."

"Ginny and I were thinking of taking Muggle Studies," Harry interjected. "Sounds like we best get on with it." He rose from his seat and strode toward the head's table.

Professor Canon had been casually watching her house table. Upon Harry's approach, she began pulling papers from a file box she had at arm's reach.

"Good morning professor," Harry said as he arrived at the table.

"Mr. Potter, good morning," Horatia Canon replied. She had a parchment ready in her hand. "The Headmistress herself, informs me that you wish to pursue a career as an Auror. So, I have taken the liberty of setting your time-table accordingly." She handed him the parchment.

Harry glanced at the time table. He had Charms first on Mondays and Wednesdays, followed by Potions. After lunch, he had Transfiguration. On Tuesdays and Thursdays his first period was free, so he started the day with Defense Against the Dark Arts, second period. After lunch was another free period followed by Herbology to round out the day. Fridays, on odd weeks, he had double Defense in the morning and double Herbology in the afternoon. On even weeks he had double Potions in the mornings with free afternoons.

It was a good schedule.

"I assumed you would continue with Herbology as an elective," Professor Canon stated.

Harry nodded. "Could I add Muggle Studies?" he asked.

"Muggle Studies is on the recommended elective list for an Auror career," she said, as she reached out her hand for Harry to return his time table. Simultaneously, she pulled a course list from her file box.

"I see no problem with that, Mr. Potter. There is a joint session of Muggle Studies for sixth and seventh years, meeting third period, Tuesday and Thursday," she said, as she filled in the section of Harry's time table. "It is my understanding Mr. Potter, that you were raised by Muggles, is it simple curiosity about the new professor that makes you interested?" Professor Canon asked.

"It's a bit more complicated than that, professor," Harry replied. "I was raised by Muggle relatives, but it was hardly a normal Muggle upbringing."

"I see," the professor said, with interest. "I should very much like to speak with you about your life sometime, Mr. Potter. After all, I am an historian, and your life certainly seems to be of some historical significance." She held out the schedule.

Harry took the modified time table. "I will give that some thought professor," he said. "Thank you."

Professor Canon smiled and nodded as Harry turned and walked away.

Ginny was next to get her time table, followed by Neville, Dean and Seamus. Very soon thereafter the hall was filled with students, eating, visiting, and queuing to retrieve their time tables.

At quarter of eight Hermione entered the hall along with most of the Prefects. Harry noticed that Ron was not among them. He thought Hermione looked tired, and he felt a twinge of guilt at not trying harder to make sure Ron was up. He whispered to Ginny that he was going to check on Ron and was on his way down the length of the table to the doors as Hermione proceeded up the opposite side. He felt a bit as though he was avoiding her, and he supposed in reality he was. That didn't really sit well, but until she sorted out her issues for herself, he wasn't sure what else to do. He just knew he didn't want to be blamed for Ron's tardiness as well.

In the dormitory Harry woke Ron. It took several attempts and Ron was not at all happy about it. Eventually, it registered with Ron that he had missed the morning Prefect meeting and that he only had about twenty minutes remaining in which to get breakfast and that was enough to finally get him moving.

As they hurried together down to the Great Hall, Ron realized that Hermione was likely to be furious with him and he expected to have to see Stephen Cornfoot, to receive a demerit for missing the morning meeting.

Ron plopped down next to Hermione and began assembling his breakfast. "Sorry, I overslept," he mumbled apologetically.

"I'm tired too, Ron," Hermione said, slightly shrilly as a blush bloomed on her cheeks. "We both have responsibilities, if you cannot live up to yours, I will just have to see that you have no further excuses to stay up too late."

Ron looked at her with a bit of astonishment. "Perhaps you should remember, Hermione, just who woke who up?" Ron whispered, "And for what. Those sorts of threats just might tend to work both ways."

Hermione's blush deepened.

Ginny, who was observing the exchange, but could not hear it, began to giggle. Harry, who had taken a seat next to her, leaned in to ask. "What's so funny?"

"Ron and Hermione," she whispered back. "It suddenly occurred to me just what it might be that made them both so tired this morning."

"Yeah," Harry said dismissively. "That occurred to me last night, but I don't want to jump to any conclusions."

"I'm ready to jump," Ginny said, batting her eyes at him.

Harry's tongue suddenly felt lifeless and heavy in his mouth and he could not formulate a response. The nearly forgotten creature in his belly did a somersault. "Well… Ah, perhaps we should…”

“Definitely," Ginny interrupted.

She got up from her seat and took Harry’s hand, leading him down the aisle toward the main doors.

“Where are you two off to?” Ron asked as they passed.

“Back to the common room, till first period,” Harry said hastily over his shoulder.

Just under an hour later, Ron slumped into the common room and took a seat opposite Harry, who was sitting at one of the tables reviewing his new Defense text book.

“Where’s Ginny?” Ron asked.

“She has Charms first period, so she had to leave a while ago,” Harry responded. “Did you get in to Muggle Studies?”

“Yeah,” Ron confirmed. “Hermione too; she has Runes this morning, but she’s in all the basic classes with us.”

“Great,” Harry said half-heartedly.

“Don’t worry, mate,” Ron assured him, “she’ll figure out this nonsense soon. She’ll apologize, you’ll accept and everything will return to normal.”

“I hope so,” Harry said. He had grown weary of the whole situation days ago. “Did you get in much trouble for oversleeping this morning?” Harry asked, changing the subject.

“Could’ve been worse. Stephen gave me a lecture about my relationship with Hermione putting us both in a spot light as far as our behavior goes. He gave me a personal demerit, a week’s worth of extra patrols, and took five points from the house,” Ron finished with a resigned sigh.

Harry nodded acknowledgement, and a few moments of silence passed between them.

“Oh, I saw you posted the Quidditch sign-up sheet as I came in, any thoughts on who’s interested?” Ron asked.

“Well, some of last year’s team is still here, I imagine they’ll try out again, but I really haven’t had much chance yet to look around,” Harry replied. “Ginny says there is some real promise in the fourth and fifth years. I’ve got the pitch reserved from eight Saturday morning for try-outs. Slytherin’s have it after lunch. So, we can go back and check out the competition if we feel like it. I think Hufflepuff is holding tryouts on Friday evening and Ravenclaw on Sunday. Apparently, Beauxbatons’ roster is already set, they are starting right in with practice on Monday evenings. We’ll have Tuesdays starting next week.” Ron nodded agreeably.

They passed the remainder of the free period speculating about the Quidditch tryouts and discussing training strategies. They headed back down to the Great Hall before first period classes let out but split up so that Ron could meet Hermione coming out of Runes, and Harry could be outside the Charms classroom when Ginny came out.

They all met in the Great Hall for morning break before heading off to their second period classes. For the seventh years, that meant Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The trio arrived a few minutes early to the Defense classroom and took their customary seats near the front.

The whole room was full of speculative chatter about the new professor. There were already wild stories floating about how she had come to be there, and how she had escaped from Romania. The trio, who actually could have answered most of the other student’s questions chose instead to quietly listen to Neville explain how his Mimbulus Mimbletonia plant had grown considerably in the green house where professor Sprout had allowed him to leave it during the summer holidays. Neville had spent his whole free period in the green houses doing a bit of tending, as he put it.

When the last chime sounded, the classroom settled and became nearly silent in anticipation of Professor Burgestikoff’s entrance.

She, did not disappoint.

There was a loud whirring sound from behind the door of the professor’s office and moments later the door slowly began to open accompanied by the sound of something gently banging against the back of it. The sounds had immediately captured everyone’s attention. Once the door had opened sufficiently a bright red child’s wooden top chittered its way out of the office and spun noisily out onto the teacher’s platform toward the center podium.

The top made several wide circles before settling in a single place, as it presumably found the lowest spot in the floor. It spun in place for what seemed a very long several seconds before it began to issue forth multi-colored sparks punctuated by small pops and bangs. Soon it was sending off, what appeared to Harry to be, several of the twin’s patented miniature fireworks, which flew out over the students’ heads and exploded in bright colorful flashes and loud bangs.

Students were oohing and ahhing at the spectacle and getting up from their seats to try to get closer to the front for a better look. Billows of soft white smoke began to issue from the base of the top, twirling upward to form a loose vortex.

While it was spectacular to watch as it all seemed to build larger and larger, there was something about it that set Harry’s neck hair on end, and he casually drew his wand, in anticipation.

There was a startlingly loud bang and a flash of sparks. The smoke billowing around the spinning top began to turn gray and steadily grew darker.

Harry’s wrist flicked reactively and a magical shield went up around him.

A figure appeared, twirling within the smoke and sparks. Ron noticed Harry’s shield flickering and he reached for his own wand. He tapped Hermione’s shoulder, drawing her attention to Harry, and threw up his own shield around them both.

There was a final bang and flash, an explosion which sent the smoke billowing outward from center, strong enough to set students’ hair and robes a flutter, causing them to momentarily shut their eyes and even forcing a few of the forward students to fall back into their seats. As the students took a moment to recover, the figure of Alex Burgestikoff appeared, standing amid the wisps of swirling smoke, her coat and skirts twirling and untwirling about her legs. The top rattled to a stop at her feet.

Professor Burgestikoff raised her wand and called out, “Petrificus Totalus,” as she swung her wand in an arc across the room. The students froze still and silent in place.

As she cast across the room from right to left, the professor quickly noticed Harry and Ron’s shields raised. Later, Ron would swear that she winked.

The instant the professor’s wand finished its arc, Harry’s shield dropped and raising his wand he called out, “Expelliarmus!”

Professor Burgestikoff’s wand flew from her hand back toward Harry where he caught it. She smiled a wicked smile, standing still as the last of the smoke swirled away to nothing. She stepped forward and began to applaud. Ron dropped his shield and he and Hermione joined in.

“Excellent, Mr. Potter,” Alex exclaimed. “Congratulations! You have just saved the lives of all of your Petrified classmates.”

She reached the edge of the platform and held out her hand. “Now, if I may have my wand back?”

“Certainly, professor,” Harry said holding forward her wand.

Professor Burgestikoff took the wand and with a swish, set the class free. The students immediately broke into further applause.

Harry could only nod a bit in response. He didn’t particularly like the attention, but he had learned to tolerate it.

Professor Burgestikoff gestured for the class to settle, and soon the students had found their seats. Everyone seemed especially quiet and attentive. She turned, stepping toward the podium.

The new professor cut quite a figure before the class. She was wearing a blood red, dragon hide coat that buttoned tight to her waist, then flared out over her skirt beneath. With it she wore matching gloves and tight leather boots.

With her raven hair, smooth complexion, dark smoldering eyes, crimson-adorned lips, and mischievous smile, Harry suddenly understood why most of the boys in the class seemed to him to be breathing a bit heavily. He supposed he owed it to Ginny that he had not fallen victim to a similar attraction himself. He had known from the first that she was a beautiful woman, it had just never before occurred to him that boys his own age would see her in quite that way.

Professor Burgestikoff removed her gloves and coat, tossing them on a chair behind the podium. Beneath the jacket she wore a peasant style blouse, and a long red skirt gathered on her left side to the knee. When she turned, her iridescent dragon scale earrings glittered brightly. She looked to Harry, every bit the Eastern European Gypsy, as portrayed in a Muggle movie he had once glimpsed from the hallway at the Dursleys’. Harry thought he heard a collective sigh as Professor Burgestikoff turned to face the class.

“Velcome students, to seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts,” She announced. “This is a N.E.W.T. level course, required for advancement into certain Ministry careers, such as Magical Law Enforcement, curse-breaking, and Magical Reversal.

“I have spent the last several days reviewing your previous years’ curriculum, and I am sorry to inform you that I have found it, for the most part lacking. Your previous instructors seem to have ranged from the ignorant and incompetent, to the purposely misleading. Even those who have, themselves, possessed the level of knowledge and proficiency have not, in my opinion, treated the subject vith enough seriousness, or a high enough expectation for learning.

“Make no mistake, much of the Vizard vorld is presently in a state of war. A war vhich exists almost exclusively due to the actions of a single Dark Vizard. I myself vas forced to flee my homeland, so believe me, I take the idea and responsibility of Defense Against the Dark Arts very seriously. As your instructor, I vill expect you to do the same.

“Now, about my little introductory demonstration. If it had been a test, all but three of you vould have failed. For the three of you who had the presence of mind to protect yourselves behind shields and avoid being Petrified, I avord ten points each to Gryffindor house. For Harry Potter, who not only protected himself, but also took positive action against the aggressive party and disarmed his vould-be assailant, I avord an additional tventy points.

“Part of the lesson of this exercise is that Dark magic, vhich this technically vas not, is often accompanied by theatrics and spectacle. Such tactics therefore should alvays trigger you to be on guard. Allowing yourself to be distracted is the quickest vay to ensure your defeat. Had it been my intention to harm any of you this morning, sadly, all but three of you vould have fallen victim to my spectacle of distraction.

“Another part of the lesson is that a small amount of vigilance is all that it takes to maintain a reasonable level of reactive impulse.

“Throughout this course it is my hope that ve vill have opportunity to fill in some of the gaps left by your previous instruction, cover a broader range of information related to the Dark practices and on a practical level develop our defensive and dueling skills. To that end, our Friday morning double sessions will be meeting outside the castle on the North lawn.

“So, now we continue today’s class with some review. I vish to discuss with you the nature of Dark Magic. Vhat, for instance makes magic Dark? And, how do ve tell the difference? I vill begin by allowing questions.”

Almost every hand in the classroom shot up.

Harry leaned back in his chair and smiled. This is gonna be good, he thought to himself.

Over an hour later the end of class bell chimed and the questions were still rampant. Harry was amazed that Professor Burgestikoff had managed to deliver weeks’ worth of review and information in a single session of Q&A. He was very impressed, as was most everyone else if he was judging the behavior of his classmates properly.

“Okay class, I think ve may have to pick this up again in Thursday’s class. If you vould please read the introduction and first chapter of your new text before then. Class is dismissed,” the professor announced.

Everyone was getting up from their seats and gathering their things. Based on the chatter, discussions provoked by the class were going to carry on into the lunch period.

“If I may see the following students, before they leave, please?” Professor Burgestikoff called out. “Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter.”

The wave of students was moving steadily toward the classroom door. Harry, Ron and Hermione turned to make their way to the front were Professor Burgestikoff was still standing. “You want to see us, Professor,” Harry said as they approached.

“Yes,” she said. “Firstly, Mr. Potter, I am given to understand that it vas upon your recommendation that I vas considered for this post. I vant to thank you for that.”

“You are quite welcome, Professor,” Harry replied.

Professor Burgestikoff nodded acknowledgment. “The three of you are familiar vith the double sessions of this course,” she stated. “I am aware that each of you already have additional duties and responsibilities, but I vondered if you vould be villing to serve as student instructors during our Friday sessions?” As there was not an immediate response, she continued. “Because of our recent time together I am aware of your capabilities. Also, Headmistress McGonagall informs me that you vere previously involved in organizing a student Defense studies group, called “Dumbledore’s Army,” so it seems you have some already established experience in the matter.”

Harry spoke up first. “I would be honored, Professor.” Both Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement. “However, I have something to ask of you in return.” Hermione looked a bit aghast at Harry’s direct approach, but Harry pushed on. He paused to glance about the room making sure that the rest of the students had departed. “If you have been told about the D.A., then you may also know that we were forced to create that group in secret.” Professor Burgestikoff nodded her understanding. “It is my intention,” Harry continued, “to re-form that group this year. I would prefer to do so as a legitimate student club. That, however, requires that I have a faculty sponsor. I hoped you might be willing?”

“Actually, I think that is a vonderful idea,” Professor Burgestikoff replied. “I vill gladly sponsor such a club. And, I may have a few suggestions to share with you about club activities as well.”

“That sounds great, Professor,” Harry said. With a glance, he silently confirmed agreement with Ron and Hermione. “Then we are agreed, we will serve as student instructors, and you will sponsor the D.A.”

Professor Burgestikoff held out her hand for Harry to shake. “Agreed,” she said.

“I will get the club paperwork started, today,” Hermione added.

During the walk to the Great Hall for lunch, Hermione was in complete planning mode talking the entire time about what would be required to turn the D.A. into an official student organization. There would need to be club officers. “Harry should be club President, of course,” she said. “And, Ron, you can be Vice, as I would make a better secretary… Unless Ginny wants to be an officer.”

“Ginny?” Ron interjected.

“Yes, Ron, Ginny,” Hermione said insistently. “There is no arguing, Ginny is a definite part of our circle of confidants, and, frankly, she gets better marks than you.”

Ron grumbled, but couldn’t argue with the truth. Harry hoped Ron would not try to solicit his defense in the matter. As much as Harry valued Ron’s steadfast friendship, the truth was, that Hermione was right.

Harry kept his words and thoughts to himself the whole way. He was enjoying the feeling of normalcy, and he didn’t want to do anything to remind Hermione that she was supposedly still mad at him.

Ginny and Luna met them outside the Great Hall so they could all go in together to lunch.

As they reached their customary seats at the Gryffindor table Luna began to excuse herself to go to her own house table, but Ginny interrupted her, saying she should stay and eat with them. When Luna looked a little hesitant, Hermione jumped in. “It’s fine, Luna. Sitting at one’s own house table is only required during the opening and closing feasts, and official school assemblies. During daily meals, there is no rule that students can’t sit wherever they please.” Hermione had been sure to speak loud enough that many of the other students in the Hall could hear her. She seemed quite pleased that, not only did Luna take a seat next to Ginny at the table, but several other students in the hall suddenly got up and joined friends from other houses at the various tables.

Harry, who had happened to be looking toward the Teacher’s table, noticed that of the teachers there at the moment, only Deputy Headmistress Sprout even looked up to take note of this exchange. Harry thought, that for a brief instant, he saw her smile, before her concentration returned to her meal.

Harry thought to himself that it had been a brilliant morning so far, and by every indication it would turn out a wholly wonderful day. With a smile on his face he turned to tuck into his meal. Once lunch was concluded it would be time to head for Muggle Studies.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***


The Muggle Studies lecture Hall was not a room that Harry was familiar with. He had never set foot in it, nor had he anticipated that during his years at Hogwarts he ever would. And yet, here he sat, amid one of the largest assemblages of students he’d seen, outside of the Great Hall, or a Quidditch match.

The hall itself rivaled the History of Magic classroom in sheer size with perhaps triple the seating capacity. Harry estimated the hall would seat close to four hundred. He wondered if the entirety of the sixth and seventh years of the school hadn’t all signed up for Muggle Studies at once. The room was auditorium style, bench seating, just like the Charms classroom where Professor Flitwick taught, only on a much larger scale, and Harry found himself wondering how the room had escaped his notice for so many years. Though, he imagined that due to interest, the room had probably been magically expanded. Unlike in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he’d always chosen forward seating, in this case, he, and many of his fellow Gryffindors had taken seats near the back of the room. This placed them closer to the exits, but further away from the podium platform at the front center of the hall. The platform was much like a stage. It was about four feet high, so that the very front seats had to look up at the speaker. There were stairs on either end, and right in front against the platform was a low table that looked like it had stacks of white paper piled on it. So far, the very best thing about the class was the fact that he could sit with Ginny.

Because the hall was so full of students the din of conversation as they waited for the class to begin was akin to pre-game chatter on the Quidditch pitch. Hermione had spread the word quickly that the D.A. was to be reformed, this time as a legitimate student club. She was still in planning mode, already discussing plans for meetings, and filling out the paperwork that would have to be submitted to the Deputy Headmistress. Harry was fully enjoying the reprieve from the one-sided feud between them, and he knew now that it would not last for much longer. He squeezed Ginny’s hand, just slightly, and received a little squeeze back. By his own estimation, this was turning out to be the best first day of school he’d ever had.

The start of class chime sounded and immediately the conversations began to go silent. Students were turning to face the platform and it was almost as though the entire classroom was holding its breath. Curiosity about this new, Muggle, Muggle Studies Professor, was greater even than that regarding Professor Burgestikoff’s appearance from Romania. Harry’s own curiosity was borne of something a bit more. This was the man who had killed the Death Eater Yaxley at the Ministry… With a Muggle weapon, no less… And then he had winked at Harry so casually, like using that weapon had been a simple matter of course. This was a man about whom Harry was understandably curious. This was a man who needed to be understood, if only a little.

Professor Sean Fleming, stepped out from behind a curtain and approached the center of the podium stage. He was as Harry remembered him from that day at the Ministry. His black academic robe was left open down his front, revealing a casual shirt and tie beneath, and he had dispensed with cap, or hood. He was slender, and tall, but not overly so. A persistent touch of gray encroached at his temples. He had a handsome face with an evident vertical scar on his right cheek, a very pleasant, engaging smile, though his expression could seem a little cruel about the mouth when at rest. Except for his obvious confidence, which gave him a definite presence, he seemed quite average, like a man who could be easily lost in a crowd.

He came to center platform without a word and there he seemed to scan the room slowly, not searching, but spending upon each student their own instant of observation. He made the briefest of eye contact with Harry and Harry could feel the recognition. When he was done with his visual assessment, he took a single step forward and in a clear voice began.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Muggle Studies. My name is Fleming,” he hesitated only an instant, “Sean, Fleming.” He took a quick breath. “I am to be your professor for this course, and yes, I am a Muggle.” He paused for the collective reaction, which seemed to be genuine surprise, but short of a collective gasp. Drawing another, more deliberate breath, he continued. “As such, this entire world is new to me.” Again, he paused.

“I am here as your professor because of an agreement between the British Prime Minister, and the Minister for Magic. My presence, I understand, is unprecedented, and therefore I see it as a great opportunity for us to learn from one another.

“In the very short time I have been exposed to the Wizarding world, I have been given an extraordinary amount of access. I have learned a lot. In fact, I would hazard a guess that I now know more about the Wizarding world than many, if not most of you, know about the non-magical world. Even more than those of you born to non-magical parents, having largely removed yourselves from a non-magical education at age eleven.” He turned slightly to the right and began to take slow adventitious steps as he spoke..

“I have reviewed the standard text of this class and found it to be an exercise in willful ignorance, misinterpretation, and fanciful speculation. As such, I will not teach from it. I apologize that I came to this conclusion too late to have it removed from your school book list. I suggest you arrange to return it if you purchased a new copy. If you cannot return it, I suggest you chuck it in the nearest bin. I will provide any assigned reading as the course progresses.

“Since coming to Hogwarts, I have been told repeatedly, by many of your most highly regarded Professors, that most Muggles cannot recognize magic. Let us pursue that as an assertion. While I would accept that it’s true, most Muggles cannot normally see ghosts. If they cannot recognize magic, why then does the Wizarding Ministry have entire divisions devoted to Muggle-Worthy Excuses, or the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts? The fact seems to be that non-magical people, while tending to discount rumor and hearsay in matter of particular import, when faced with direct evidence of magic, such as observing a Witch or Wizard cast a spell with their wand, and seeing the results, readily accept that they have seen something. They may not be able to come up with an explanation, but they know they have witnessed something which they do not understand. This seems to happen with actual frequency, and your Ministry, in accordance with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of sixteen-ninety-two, sends out leagues of witches and wizards to erase and or alter non-magical memories.

“As I read in a little tome called ‘A History of Magic,’ another of your school texts, this International Statute, I am given to understand, was developed and enacted due, in large part, to anti-wizard prejudice on the part of non-magical people, which caused your entire society to withdraw into a separate, but parallel civilization.

“The problem from my point of view is, while you got the separate part, you completely missed the mark on parallel.” He had reached the far edge of the raised platform. He turned and started moving in the opposite direction toward the other end, gesturing narrowly with his hands as he moved at a slightly increased pace.

“Now, I do not doubt that in the sixteen-hundreds wizards and witches were shunned, and persecuted, or perhaps worse, exploited. It is a simple truth that it’s part of human nature to fear that which you do not understand and cannot control. I would never attempt to argue that prejudice and bigotry have passed out of the human condition. Muggles, or I should say, non-magical humans are extremely divided. We separate from one-another based on geography, nationality, ethnicity, culture, politics, religion, economics, education, gender and yes, even still, skin pigmentation. But we have come a long way in three hundred years. Certainly, we haven’t solved all our problems, but we have made strides.

“Together, before the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, human kind, magical and non-magical alike, worked out language, both spoken and written, tamed animals, developed agriculture and architecture, built glorious cities, explored deep philosophies, and formulated religions. We were on an inevitable path toward the sciences and greater understanding of the natural world. And then the Wizarding world separated themselves.

“To read your history book, every great innovation has come from wizards. If that were true, and wizards were truly superior, then innovation would have stopped, or at the very least slowed down after the separation. But it didn’t. It wasn’t until sixteen eighty-seven that Sir Isaac Newton formulated his laws of motion, only a few years before the separation.”

He changed direction again, still pacing the raised platform and speaking loud enough that the entire class could hear every word. But it was almost as though he was speaking to himself, working out the words as he went.

“Great strides were made during the eighteenth century in the theoretical understanding of astronomy, and physics. And in practicality, huge innovation came in agricultural machinery, metallurgy, the steam engine, the internal combustion engine, the sextant for sea navigation.

“Early in the nineteenth century, we were experimenting with uses for electricity, we saw the invention of the arc lamp. We built the first steam locomotive. By the middle of the century, Charles Wheatstone, and William Cooke, in England, and Samuel Morse, in the United States, develop the electric telegraph which would lead eventually to the development of the telephone. About that same time, we saw the invention of photography by Muggles like, Joseph Niepce, the Frenchman, Louis Daguerre, and the Englishman, William Henry Fox Talbot, which incidentally does not show up in the Wizarding world till much later. Sure, it’s moving, but clearly the original technology was invented by Muggles.” As he moved and spoke his voice was growing gradually louder and his gesticulations broader.

“Eighteen sixty-one, Elisha Graves Otis, invents the lift, which means our architecture can advance upward. In the eighteen-seventies, Alexander Graham Bell patents the telephone, and Thomas Edison develops the phonograph. Not long after that, Edison introduces the incandescent light bulb for electrical lights, and develops the first power plants to generate electricity. Eighteen eighty-eight, Nikola Tesla patents the alternating current electric induction motor. In the eighteen-nineties, French brothers Joseph and Louis Lumiere invent movie projectors and open the first movie theater. German engineer Rudolf Diesel introduces his diesel engine. In eighteen ninety-four, physicist Sir Oliver Lodge sends the first ever message by radio wave in Oxford, England. Again, predating the invention of the Wizarding Wireless by some fifty years.” His movements had built to a steady quick pace and he had clearly transitioned into a complete intellectual rant.

“And then, we get to the twentieth Century. Nineteen oh one, Marconi, sends radio-wave signals across the Atlantic. Nineteen oh three, Wilbur and Orville Wright build the first engine-powered aeroplane. Nineteen oh seven the first synthetic plastic. Nineteen oh eight, the American Henry Ford launches the Ford Model T, the world's first affordable automobile. Nineteen twelve, Gilbert Lewis outlines the basic chemistry for lithium-ion rechargeable batteries. In the nineteen-twenties, Philo T. Farnsworth invents electronic television, of which there is still no Wizarding equivalent. And the progress goes on and on!

“The middle and late twentieth century have seen inventive progress on every front in the non-magical world. We have eliminated diseases, perfected surgical procedures, and come to understand human biology right down to the chemical building blocks of life, DNA. We split the atom, developed nuclear power generation, built bigger better everything, invented something to fill almost every human need. We cross the oceans in huge jet powered aeroplanes, move goods around the world by ocean vessels big as cities, send satellites into orbit, rocket ships in to space and in nineteen sixty-nine at the culmination of the space race, an American, Neil Armstrong walked on the moon!” He stopped, center platform and dramatically pointed through the large, high, side widows, at the moon lightly visible in the daytime sky. He returned his pointing hand to his side and after giving a moment for his words to sink in, continued.

“During the lifetimes of every student in this room the Muggle world has seen dramatic change through the development of personal computers, mobile phones, the invention of the internet, all of which will very likely bring about a revolution in human communication. It will connect the world in new ways and greatly effect economics, politics, and just about every other aspect of the human condition.”

He allowed a long pause, then adjusting his tone and volume back to the level of his calm beginning, continued. “What, I ask you, has happened in the Wizarding world in that same amount of time? I do not really know the answer, because, as I have said, the Wizarding world is new to me. I will tell you, that on cursory observation it has not been nearly as innovative, or made practical progress like the non-magical world. The Muggles have had the advantage of greater need.” He paused again.

“Wizards, solve most of their problems and provide for most of their needs by using magic in one form or another. This is, given the ability to wield magic, quite understandable, but it does severely lessen the need to solve problems through innovation. Therefore, it is not surprising to me that Wizarding culture presents itself through what I would call a Nineteenth Century sensibility. And lags behind Muggles in invention, only occasionally introducing new products and concepts developed derivatively from their non-magical counterparts.

“Now, lest you think my assessment too harsh, let me say that I have great admiration for the accomplishments of the Magical world. Unified by the very ability of wielding magic, you seem to have, despite maintaining national identities and cultures, largely done away with petty prejudices, based on things like gender, or skin pigmentation. You also seem largely to have avoided religious conflicts, all prejudices which still plague the non-magical world.” He paused then as though he was not entirely sure what to say next. He continued, hesitantly.

“Wizarding society, in my estimation, seems to have replaced these petty human prejudices with a very dangerous set of their own. Pure-blood, Half-blood, Muggle-born, Squib, Mud-blood, and the very term Muggle itself are all products of Wizarding prejudice. And to my mind more than a little offensive. How many of you know that the term you use to describe non-magical humans is derived from the middle English term ‘Mug’ which in its politest usage means, someone who is easily fooled?” The room was silent, and no one, not even Hermione, raised their hand. “The term itself denotes Wizarding society’s basic assumption that they are superior to Muggles. And from that starting point you have stratified your own society with ignorantly perceived distinctions of ‘blood’ purity. I am here to tell you, that such distinctions are meaningless.

“What you call ‘blood’ we call genetics, and as in so many other sciences, we have surpassed you in this understanding as well. You may recall I mentioned in passing the term DNA, which I described as the chemical building blocks of life. As all of you discontinued non-magical schools at age eleven, I would imagine that to most of you, non-magical science seems as odd and unbelievable as magic does to non-magical people.

“DNA, or deoxyribonucleic acid, is a self-replicating material which is present in nearly all living organisms. It is the carrier of genetic information. Think of it as the instructions from which life is created. We can compare the DNA from one creature to another, say, cats to dogs, and we will see more similarities than differences. All creatures of the Earth bare more similarities than differences in their DNA.

“Several DNA samples of known magical persons have thus far been analyzed, and from the perspective of science, there is no identifiable difference between magical and non-magical human beings. That means that the difference between you and I may come down to one small set of genetic markers that switches on the ability to conduct magic or not. Wherever those markers fit in our DNA has not yet been identified. While clearly the ability to use magic is something rather special, from a statistical standpoint it is no more, or less rare than say, having red hair. And certainly not a basis for classifying a separate species. In short, we are all one, single race of human beings.

“Further, if there is no practical genetic difference between a magical or non-magical human being, then the differences between Pure-blood, Half-blood, Muggle-born and Squib, are virtually nonexistent. Each of these verbal distinctions attempts to create differences where none exist. To base a distinction on parentage alone is absurd, as it is documented by your Ministry that even the supposedly purest of pure-blood families has produced both non-magic user children, and children who can see magic, magical creatures, and spirits, but cannot wield magic, what is commonly referred to as a Squib. Each of these persons, regardless of what you call them, must possess all or part of the specific genetic markers for magic use. Therefore, these distinctions are merely prejudices of the people who assert them. Power-hungry, and greedy people commonly use such prejudice to create a hierarchy of power and class. In all practical reality, such distinctions are complete nonsense.”

Hermione, and Harry, who had been listening intently, suddenly sprang to their feet and began to applaud. Several others across the room joined them and in mere moments all but a few Slytherins and a few of the French students were giving Professor Fleming a standing ovation. Professor Fleming motioned for everyone to take their seats, but it was a full three minutes before he could get the class to settle. Once the students had retaken their seats, he continued.

“I am extremely gratified at your reaction to my impromptu rant, because it is my intention to ban all such divisive terms from this classroom, including, after today, the use of the word Muggle. I intend to petition the Headmistress to re-name the class ‘Non-magical Cultural Studies.’ While the word ‘Muggle’ may roll off the tongue easily, and even be regarded as ‘cute’ it is too often used, in the Wizarding vernacular, in a highly prejudicial manner. Therefore, it’s general use, particularly in the context of this class should be regarded as inappropriate.

“All of that said, in this course I intend to cover a great many topics from the coins and notes that make up the British monetary system, to fashion, food, habits and hobbies, music, entertainment, industry, manufacturing, economics, politics, medicine, even possibly such topics as religions, philosophies, national security, defense and war, all covered as much as possible in the historical framework of the last three centuries. The course will be part History, and part Cultural Anthropology, with an emphasis on modern British practices.

“Remember, please, that the last topic I listed, war, or the threat thereof, within the Wizarding world is the very reason I am here with you in the first place. There is a threat present in the Wizarding world that states as its goal the complete dominance of non-magical people, a threat that in its arrogance, the Wizarding world only recently considered should be shared with its non-magical counterparts. Part of why I am here is to assess that threat. But my larger assignment is to attempt to dispel the woeful level of misunderstanding of the non-magical world that permeates Wizarding society.

“To that end, I promise you that I will tell the truth as I understand it at all times. I will do this for you of my own free will, even though I suspect your Ministry has placed enchantments upon my person that would prevent me from doing otherwise. In return, I expect the highest level of comportment from you as students. This course will be conducted, always, in an atmosphere of mutual respect. If any of you are incapable, or unwilling to function at that level, I suggest you drop the course immediately.” He fixed a steely determined look upon the class and said, “I am not blessed with the gift of magic use. However, I am a highly experienced and capable individual. I invite any of you to attempt to test my resolve on this matter. I assure you, I have the full backing of the Headmistress, and faculty, in setting this policy, and any behavior to the contrary, will not be tolerated.

“Now, how many of you, by raise of hands, have one or more non-magical parents?” Of the nearly three hundred students in the lecture hall there were perhaps fifty who tentatively raised their hands, and a few, like Hermione, Seamus, and Dean, whose hands shot up proudly. Professor Fleming seemed to take note of the first hands to raise. He motioned for them to stand. “Stand up, stand up, please,” he called. Hermione, practically jumped to her feet defiantly, followed by the rest of the qualifying Gryffindors. Slowly and a bit unsure, the rest of non- and half-magical born students stood, many of them obviously uncomfortable to be identified in this manner.

“I suggest everyone in the room take note,” Professor Fleming demanded. “These students, by virtue of their birth have a distinct advantage over the rest of you in understanding the material that will be presented in this class. And, very likely they have not been brought up with the same sort of destructive bias that will for some of you cloud your perception of the truths that will be discussed here. I suggest you seek these people out as friends and study companions, as they will be best equipped to help you understand that blood status is a meaningless measure, and non-magical people are not inherently lessor than yourselves. With people, magical or not, what you do and how you behave toward others is the real measure of your character.” He motioned for the standing students to sit, which they did quickly.

“Now, as I have dispensed with your text. I have an initial reading that needs to be distributed.” He motioned to the stacks of paper on the low table in front of the platform. “If I could have a few volunteers?” he asked.

Hermione stood up and drawing her wand cast a, one-a-piece, distribution charm, at the papers and they began floating quickly toward the students. The neatly stapled handouts distributed themselves in orderly fashion up the rows of students.

Professor Fleming looked a little surprised by the sudden display of magic, but it was only momentary and then a broad smile spread across his face. “Very good. Thank you, Miss?” He said searchingly.

“Granger,” Hermione responded. “Hermione Granger,” she smiled before catching the handout that came to her, and re-took her seat.

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” he said appreciatively, with a slight bow of his head.

“Now,” he turned slightly to address the whole of the class, “let us begin with some historical context of the late seventeenth century. I am a bit of a student of history myself and reading magical history has allowed me to draw some interesting conclusions…”

The remainder of Professor Fleming’s talk had been quite riveting; he had a way of making the material interesting, like there would be a new and exciting discovery around each turn of phrase.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***


In contrast to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Non-Magical Cultural Studies, Herbology, was rather dull. Professor Sprout had obviously not yet adjusted to her increased responsibility as Deputy Headmistress and therefore had left a lot of work in the greenhouses undone. After a brief introduction and welcome, the class had been split up into groups and left to weed and prepare several table-beds for various plantings. The nice thing about it was, the work was quite easy, and allowed for lots of conversation. It seemed the entire seventh year class had plenty of opinion about the new professors. As far as Harry could tell the vast majority was quite favorable. He was also asked a lot of questions about the D.A. It seemed that most of the students were quite interested in that as well. Harry wondered if the Room of Requirement would be large enough to accommodate the size of the new club, or if perhaps they would have to find another space. Harry decided that he would have to think about that.

After Herbology most students were finished with classes for the day. Ron and Hermione had to go to a meeting of the prefects to discuss patrol assignments and other responsibilities. Harry found Ginny and they decided to take a walk down to the lake rather than stay indoors. As they walked, they discussed the upcoming Quidditch try-outs scheduled for Saturday morning. The lake was calm and the breeze was comfortably cool against the warmth of the sun. It was too nice to keep dwelling on Quidditch, so they found a soft patch of grass beneath a large tree overhanging the shore, sat in the shade, and switched to more inconsequential conversation. Such times with Ginny were Harry’s favorite as she was always ready to talk about anything, or nothing, and she always seemed to know when it was time for which.

After having their evening meal in the company of Luna and Neville, along with a handful of other Gryffindors - most of whom were seeking some information that might give them an edge at the upcoming Quidditch tryouts - they decided to retreat to the common room early and relax in their favorite spot near the fireplace.

With both Ron and Hermione having evening duties it gave Harry and Ginny nice amounts of time to spend together and fortunately the homework so far was very little for each of them. Even though the weather was warm for the beginning of September, there was always a fire in the grate.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***


At breakfast, while collecting her time-table from Professor Canon, Hermione had asked if it would be possible to set up a meeting with Headmistress McGonagall. She wanted to get to the root of her conflict with Harry, and whatever the outcome, she wanted it behind her as quickly as possible. The professor had agreed to make the request.

Hermione was scheduled to lead a prefect meeting during fifth period to review adjustments to schedules and duties. Because some of the student prefects had class during fifth period there was to be a second meeting at six which would be run by Head boy, Stephen Cornfoot, and those students would be under his supervision, as the earlier group would be under Hermione’s. Ron went along to Hermione’s meeting only to learn that understandably; he would be assigned to the latter group.

After her meeting, an uncomfortable looking first year was waiting for her in the corridor with a note from Headmistress McGonagall. The note was simple. Come to my office after fifth period. Use your Head-girl password. Headmistress, McGonagall. Hermione said a hurried “Good luck” to Ron, and hastily headed off toward the seventh-floor corridor. Her password had been given to her during her orientation with instructions that it was only to be used with permission, or in an emergency. She hadn’t expected to be using it so soon. Nevertheless, she arrived at the Gargoyle, spoke it, ascended the rising stairs to the Headmistress’ office and knocked on the heavy doors.

“Come in, please, Miss Granger,” she heard the Headmistress call from the other side of the doors.

Pushing the door open, Hermione stepped inside. Headmistress McGonagall’s office looked exactly as it had on the day of orientation. Professor McGonagall, was standing at her desk and motioned for Hermione to take a seat opposite her. Once both were seated Professor McGonagall spoke first. “It’s somewhat unusual, Miss Granger, for the Headmistress, to receive a visit from the Head Girl, or Head Boy, so quickly after the beginning of term. I must admit, I am somewhat curious what matter could demand my attention so quickly?”

“Oh, this is not about school, Headmistress,” Hermione began. “At least not in regard to my duties as Head Girl,” she stated.

“I see,” the Headmistress responded, steepling her fingers in much the same way Dumbledore used to.

Hermione continued. “It has to do with my Scholarship.”

McGonagall smiled. “Oh, yes, of course. I meant to congratulate you, quite an accomplishment, that, but you needn’t thank me…”

Hermione cut her off, “Whom, then, should I thank? Harry Potter?”

“Harry… What? Whatever are you on about, Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall said in a tone that Hermione knew meant she had broken propriety. “What I was about to say was, it was my absolute pleasure to write your nomination letter.” McGonagall frowned. “Perhaps you had better explain yourself, young lady.”

Hermione began to cry, whereupon the Headmistress offered her a handkerchief and adopted a much gentler tone. Between sobs, Hermione explained the whole conflict to the Headmistress starting with telling Harry about her parents’ ultimatum and her worries about paying for school, up to discovering, at the bank, that she had been awarded the scholarship, and the money for serving as Librarian at Potter Manor. She explained how the letter had, supposedly, been lost in the mail and arrived late, and how Harry admitted to owning Royal Hart International, but swore he knew nothing about it. When she was done, she dried her eyes carefully with the handkerchief and said finally, “I fear, Headmistress, it is possible, I may have made a dreadful mistake.”

McGonagall, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “As always, Miss Granger, your logic is sound. It is your assumptions that bare closer examination. If Mister Potter says he had nothing to do with any of this, why would you persist in believing otherwise?”

Hermione started crying again. “I want to believe him, but I already made the accusation, so I need to find proof of the truth.”

“I see, so this has more to do with your need to be right, than Mister Potter’s alleged generosity?” The Headmistress paused to let the question penetrate Hermione’s thinking. She did not wait for an answer. “Well, if it’s clarification you seek, I can address a few items for you. First, it was indeed I who nominated you for The Royal Hart Scholarship. I did so at the end of the last school year prior to… Well, before the end of term. I was pleased to do so, as you were the first qualified candidate to come out of Gryffindor House in a very long time with a real chance of winning. I give you my word that Mister Potter had no role in my decision to do so, and that it happened long before he learned of his own connection to the Royal Hart International. Second, I had no way of knowing that you would find yourself in financial need, nor would that have played any role in my decision to nominate you, for this particular scholarship. Though, had I been apprised of your need, there are perhaps other things I could have suggested to assist you.”

Hermione nodded her understanding.

The Headmistress continued. “Third, you mentioned a matter of ‘anonymous generosity’ which you took to mean Mr. Potter, had arranged for you to win the scholarship. I have a different hypothesis. Today, Hogwarts took delivery of ten crates of brand new Quidditch equipment. On the day of your orientation, I happened to mention to Mr. Potter, and all the team captains, that I was seeking a donor to supply the school with new equipment. I have thus far been unsuccessful in that task. So, you can imagine that today’s shipment of ‘anonymous generosity’ was a bit of a surprise. If Mr. Potter’s letter of that day was to Quality Quidditch Supplies, the timing of today’s shipment would be - well, spot on.”

“That sounds like Harry,” Hermione conceded.

“Lastly,” McGonagall continued, “I will agree that the timing of the award letter is a bit awkward. Mr. Potter did not have knowledge of his connection to Royal Hart until his birthday. The award letter was dated fourteen August. Regardless of when it was delivered, if that date is accurate, Mr. Potter would have to have taken some action between his birthday and that date. Do you recall any such action?”

“I have thought about that a lot,” Hermione said. “Harry had a meeting with Mr. Prächt on the eighteenth of August, which is too late, I know. But how do I rule out the possibility that he didn’t send instructions by owl after his birthday, ahead of that meeting?”

“Miss Granger,” McGonagall’s tone became suddenly stern. “You must ask yourself if Mr. Potter is your friend or not. Some things, Hermione, you have to understand with your heart, rather than your head.” She paused for a long breath. “Do you trust Harry Potter?”

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