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Harry got up early the next day in order to sort out his quarters and prepare for first lesson. He had already taken his shrunken bed from his bag the night before, so he had somewhere to sleep, however the remainder of his things had stayed inside the bag. 

His quarters included three rooms, two of which were hidden by solid wall and one that adjoined with his classroom. 

There was his study, everyone could enter that room, and he had a bedroom and bathroom that only he could access, unless he gave someone else permission.
There was already a solid oak desk in the centre of the room, with a armchair stood behind it. Harry had presumed this would be where he sat as on the opposite side there was an old, spindly looking chair, where the students would sit if they were ever required to enter his office. Harry had hastily replaced the hard chair with an armchair like the one on his side of the desk, as he wanted students to feel comfortable when they were in his office. 

Beside from the desk and the two chairs there wasn’t much to look at in the room. The walls were bare stone, as was the cold, hard ground. 

As Harry stood in the centre of the room he critically waved his wand around for a few minutes, changing the actual appearance of the room. By the time he had finished he had decided on the same carpet as the Gryffindor common room had, and some deep red curtains. He had also changed the armchairs to match the curtains. Harry then took out his bookcase from his bag, restored it to full size and levitated it against an empty wall. He placed the few books he had brought on the shelves, and put his dark detectors and other such things in the cupboard below. 

He then went back through to his bedroom. The room was quite large so he decided to start with the bathroom first. He took out his toiletries, shaving foam, razor toothbrush, soap etc, and he placed them on the shelf above the sink. That then left him with the contents for his bedroom. 

Firstly he charmed the bedroom and bathroom to match his office before continuing to put furniture around his room. When he had finished adding furniture he put a sticking charm on the back of his clock before placing it on the wall. 

Seeing what time it was he looked around his room once more before deciding he was happy and leaving for a shower before getting changed into his robes and heading for breakfast. 

Harry had deliberately turned up slightly late for his first lesson as he was putting the plan, he had though up in Weasley’s, into action. Right after breakfast he had returned to his room and eaten one of the tablets George had given him. His first lesson was with a group of Gryffindor sixth years. He had wanted to impress these the most as he had went to school with them all, and he had come up with the perfect plan to do so.
When he entered the classroom he had made himself look like a balding, fifty year old with a weedy posture and raggedy robes. Harry had however left his scar on his forehead and he was still wearing his glasses. 

As he made his way to the front of the class the chattering came to a close as the students stared in awe at him, dumbstruck looks etched upon their faces.
“Hello Class. I am Harry Potter and I will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.” He smiled at the class before him as they each in turn began whispering to their friends. 

“That’s not Harry Potter! It doesn’t look anything like him!” One girl said loudly to her friend. 

“I knew Harry!” Dennis Creevy added “And he didn’t look like that before!” Harry coughed loudly and the class turned back in their seats and faced him with confused looks on their faces. 

“I assure you I am Harry Potter. Look there is my scar” he said pointing to the lightning bolt upon his forehead and raising his voice. “Do you know anyone else who has a scar like this!?” The pale-faced class shook their heads, eyes wide and confused. Harry couldn’t hold the laughter in any longer. Their faces were enough push him over the edge and he threw his head back and laughed vivaciously. This unexpected action had caused the students in the front row to jump back in their chairs. 

Suddenly a peculiar feeling came over Harry as his laughing subsided. He could feel his body filling out and his hair crowing thicker. Looks of realisation fell on the student’s faces as they began to understand what was happening. And they laughed. Harry laughed. The students laughed. And Harry’s first lesson had been a great success. 

Harry’s next few weeks went without any problems. It was true, he was missing Ron, Hermione and Ginny more than he thought he would but on the bright side he could go and visit them on the night times and at the weekends. Word had quickly spread about Harry’s lessons and he was pleased to find that many of his students had mentioned looking forward to his lessons. This was most likely due to the fact that Harry had in fact attended Hogwarts with most of them, and also he was fresh out of school so he didn’t tend to grill on the students as much. 

One Monday morning when Harry was in the staff room he noticed he had post. He took it from his pigeonhole and opened the letter that was addressed to him. 

Dear Harry,
As I mentioned before the first years need to be taught flying as we do not have a teacher this year. I have arranged for you to teach a house at a time, for one night a week. This will result in each house getting taught flying once a month which I think will be enough. Let me know which night will be best for you and I will put a notice up in each common room informing the students that would like to participate.

Yours truly,


Harry picked up a piece of parchment from the coffee table next to him and began to write a reply 

Dear Minerva,
That will be fine, I would love to teach the first years flying and I feel honoured that you would ask me. Wednesday night would be the best night for me as at the start of the week I have homework to mark and I spend the weekends at home.
I hope that Wednesday will be okay and if there are any problems do let me know.

Yours truly,


Harry then picked up the parchment and placed it in McGonagall’s pigeonhole. He couldn’t wait to get back on his broom again.

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