Return to Hogwarts
Title: Harry Potter and the Order of the Great Dane
Part: 1/?: Return to Hogwarts
Hogwarts gets a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Again. Squared.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer through Season 6. Harry Potter through “Goblet of Fire”
Timeline for this installment: The Future.
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I don't own this stuff. Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling do. No cash made, just fun had. I promise I won't break 'em, and I'll put 'em back in the case when I'm done.
I know that this “Buffy/Harry Potter Crossover Thing” has been overdone (See! Stick! Dead Horse!), but I’ve not seen this particular angle done before. It should be interesting.
The Great Dane, is of course a reference to a certain cartoon dog. The name of the story is a take off of the title of J.K. Rowling’s fifth Harry Potter installment.
FYI: Protege is the shield that Willow uses in S7E05 (Selfless) against the Spider Demon.
The train was making its way north towards the school where he had just landed a position teaching.
He sat facing the back of the carriage; on his right side, his oldest daughter, a third year Gryffindor, slept with her head resting on his shoulder. his youngest daughter snoozed curled up to his left with her head resting on his leg. She’d be starting at Hogwarts this year. He had another child, a son, who was a returning fifth year.
As he sat there, head bowed, with his grey-streaked unruly black hair swaying in front of his round glasses, the door opened, revealing his older daughter’s two best friends. He raised his head, smiled, and said softly, “Come in and have a seat.”
“Thanks, Uncle Harry.”
They sat on the other side of the compartment. He turned to his oldest, and murmured, “Lily... Lily...” He nudged her with his elbow.
“Wha- Are we there?”
“No sweetie, Ginny and Minnie are back,” he informed her.
Her green eyes opened, and she surveyed her friends. “Hey guys.”
“Hey,” they said in unison.
Virginia and Minerva Weasley were identical twin girls. This wasn’t necessarily all that peculiar, except that they both had frizzy red hair and freckles.
If he hadn’t known who these two belonged to, he’d have been able to guess; Ron and Hermione seemed to have passed each and every one of their quirky genetic traits down to their daughters. But then again, the rest of the Weasley children weren’t much better off.
“Is your mum apparating into Hogsmeade,” he asked them.
They nodded. “She wanted to spend some more time with Dad and somebody called Norbert,” Ginny replied.
Harry smiled. Ron was helping his brother out with the dragons, now that the threat from Voldemort’s goons was next to nothing and he wasn’t needed at the office. “Norbert was Hagrid’s pet dragon,” he told them. “A Norwegian Ridgeback, as I recall.”
“Hagrid had a DRAGON!” Minnie was shocked. “Aren’t those illegal?”
“Very,” Harry responded. “Your dad, your mum, and I were there when he hatched. Little bugger hiccoughed and set Hagrid’s beard on fire.”
The girls giggled.
“We arranged it with your Uncle Charlie to take him before he burned Hagrid’s house down. Hagrid was pretty broken up about it, too.”
“That’s too bad,” Ginny said, sadly.
“Don’t feel too bad... He’s been down to Romania lots of times to see him. Norbert even lets Hagrid ride him.”
The train started slowing down.
“We’re there,” he told the three girls. He brushed the brown hair out of his youngest daughter’s face. “Joyce, honey... wake up, we’re in Hogsmeade.”
“Firs’ Years! This way!” The Keeper of the Keys spotted the Potters. “Hullo Harry! Ladies!”
“Go with Hagrid, Sweetie,” Harry told Joyce.
“‘Kay Dad.” She ran off with the other first years.
“Hello, Hagrid! How are you?”
“Oh, Oi’m fine. Jus’ fine. If you’ll ‘scuse me... Firs’ Years!”
“Go on ahead, girls,” he told Lily and the twins. “I want to speak to James.”
Harry waited on the platform until he saw his son getting off the train with the only other remaining member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
They loped over. “What’s up, Dad,” James Potter asked.
“Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall wanted to see me before the opening feast, so I am going to send my trunk up with you two and fly in on the Firebolt.”
“Why didn’t you just apparate into Hogsmeade earlier?” Anna Wood asked.
“Because Joyce wanted me to ride up with her on the train. She’s just a little scared. She’ll be okay when she gets sorted and settles in. There’s something I need the two of you to do for me,” he informed them. “Actually, two somethings.”
“I need you to keep an eye on Joyce this year. Your mother is a little nervous about her fitting in. She tends to bury her nose in a book and let everything go on around her. Try to be sure that she doesn’t do that too often.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Also, avoid the Slytherins. You don’t need to be loosing points this early in the year.”
“Okay, Dad. Help us with the trunks?”
After assisting the kids with their trunks – and his own – he saw them off and then jumped on his broom.
He shot off towards the castle. The shortest distance was across the lake.
As he sped overhead, Harry managed to frighten one of the first years so badly he fell out of his boat. The giant squid picked him up dropped him back onto the wooden bench.
He came around for another pass to see if the kid was okay, and then did an inspection lap of the castle. It was still breathtaking at night, with all of the windows lit up. He landed at the front door, with a big grin on his face.
“Hello, Harry,” a familiar voice greeted him.
He grinned. “Hello ‘Mione. Just get in?”
“A few hours ago. Dumbledore has called a quick staff meeting before the sorting ceremony. We’re going to be late.” She surveyed his clothes.
“Forget to change?”
He looked down at the red sweater and blue jeans he was wearing.
Changing the subject, he deferred, “Lead the way.” he dismounted his broom and followed her inside the school.
They made their way towards Dumbledore’s office, and paused at the giant eagle gargoyle.
“Oh fudge,” she said.
“I don’t know the new password.”
“Let me try.”
Nothing continued to happen.
“Gum Drop. Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Chocolate Frog. Ten Ton Tongue Toffee.”
Nothing seemed to be taking up residence.
“Weasleys’ Canary Creames.”
There was a rumble as the gargoyle moved aside and the stairs began to move.
“That’s why he didn’t tell you what the password was. He didn’t want you getting Molly any more worked up than she already is.”
They began to climb.
“Actually, I think it’s hilarious. Did you hear that they bought Zonkos?”
She grinned. “Yeah! That was a good lot of fireworks right there. Both literally AND figuratively.”
Harry chuckled. “Arthur is fine with it when Molly isn’t in the room, I bet.”
Hermione grinned back. “Naturally. He’s worse than the twins are. Have you heard the latest?”
Potter shook his head.
“Somehow, he got his hands on a DeLorean, and...” She leaned in conspiratorially, “He’s been DOING things to it.”
He chuckled again. “Lemmee guess. That’s what Molly told you?”
She replied, “Verbatim.”
They reached the top of the staircase and entered the office. The entire staff – minus Hagrid – was crammed into the area in front of his desk.
“Ahh... Harry! Hermione! Excellent! Come in!”
“Wonderful. Now that everybody’s here, we can get down to business and then get to the most important task of the evening... Stuffing our faces.”
This earned him chuckles all around.
“As I am filling in as interim Minister of Magic until the inauguration in four months’ time, Minerva will be taking on some of my duties as Deputy Headmistress. Because the work load I am placing upon her is massive, I am asking a few of you to each take on some extra duties to help cover. Severus, you will take the Monday afternoon transfiguration sections. Hermione, you will take Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons. Upon Minerva’s recommendation, Harry will act as temporary Gryffindor Head-of-House. Does everybody understand their assignments?”
“Also, because the majority of our Quidditch players graduated at the end of last year, I am assigning the heads of house to either serve as Quidditch coach or to find one for their respective teams. Oliver has already been claimed by Fleur for the Ravenclaw team.
“Zank you, Profezor,” the blonde woman said. “Myzelf, I am liking to watch zee Quidditch, but I am playing... How you say...” She fumbled for a moment. “Lousy.”
“You are very welcome.”
“That must have been quite a scene when they told Wood,” Harry whispered to Hermione.
“Actually, not so much. She just turned up the charm, and Dumbledore blocked the door.”
“And without further ado, let’s adjourn to the Great Hall.”
He caught Minerva McGonagall on the way out of the door.
“Before you ask, Harry,” she began, “The answer is yes. And I trust you. Please rule as you see fit.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
“You’re welcome, Harry. Call me Minerva.”
Professor McGonagall led the very nervous first years up the center aisle to the front of the hall.
Harry waved, smiled and shot a thumbs up at his petrified daughter. Hermione smiled and waved. Joyce stood, rooted to her spot at the front of the hall. Her hands were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were the same shade of white as her face.
Dumbledore stood. “Before we get started, I’d like to say a few words. Bueno. Donkey. Niner. X-ray.”
The hall regarded the headmaster with quizzical looks. “Well... Now that we have THAT out of the way... Professor McGonagall: please begin.”
Joyce seemed to be incapable of coherent thought, her eyes glazed over as the sorting hat began its new song.
She remained that way as the first years stepped up, sat on the stool, and were told where to sit.
Finally, McGonagall called out, “Joyce Potter!”
She shook her head and sat up on the bench.
“Hmmmm. Another Potter, eh? My, my... You are your mother’s daughter, my dear.”
“I am?” She asked quietly.
“Yes, but there’s quite a little bit of your father in you too.”
“Yes. I generally don’t give out advice, but try not to read TOO much. Follow that, and I think you’ll do well in GRYFFINDOR!”
McGonagall lifted the hat off of the youngest Potter’s head. She hopped down, and ran over to the Gryffindor table and sat next to James.
McGonagall cracked a smile. Harry, Hermione, Hagrid, and Dumbledore all clapped loudly.
After the sorting was finished, the headmaster stood for the start of year announcements.
“Hello, everyone. Welcome to the new term here at Hogwarts. I have a few reminders for everyone. Please keep in mind that the forest is still forbidden for everyone who does not wish to be eaten alive by giant spiders.”
Harry shivered. He’d met the spiders. He sincerely hoped to never do so again.
“Please remember that First years may not have their own brooms unless it cleared with his or her Head of House and myself or Professor McGonagall.”
There was a murmur or two.
“Our new Caretaker, Mr. O’Shea, has asked that students not brew unauthorized potions in the lavatories. The last batch of wit-sharpening potion that was attempted before exams last term apparently backfired spectacularly. He has spent the better part of the summer repairing the walls in Moaning Myrtle’s Bathroom.”
Harry regarded the new caretaker. He was a rough looking man, although not as rough as Mr. Filch had been. This caretaker didn’t seem to hate the students with quite as much passion as his predecessor had either. He whispered to Hermione as such.
“He’s a wizard,” she replied. “He can use magic if he wants to.”
“As I am pretending to be Minister of Magic until the inauguration in four months, Professor McGonagall has shouldered some of my workload. In order to accommodate her, we have shifted some of her duties onto some of the other professors. Your heads of house will inform you tonight of the changes to the schedule.”
The students began to murmur amongst themselves.
“We have some staff changes to announce. Mr. Filch has retired, and Mr. Alan O’Shea, whom you have already met, has filled his position.”
The audience applauded.
“Professor Harry Potter has joined us as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
The students whispered and murmured at the mention of his name. Harry rolled his eyes. He couldn’t go anywhere in public without that reaction. Back in the day, he’d had to fend off more than his fair share of creepy stalker fangirls. It had gotten so bad that he’d taken to walking around with a quarterstaff.
Once, when he’d been walking around Diagon Alley with his then fiancée, her sister, Ron, and Hermione, he’d been mobbed. They’d managed to fight the people back, but not before every member of his party had sustained some damage.
Things had calmed down a bit since the wedding, thankfully. Living in California helped, too.
“Professor Potter will have an assistant professor, and she will be arriving in the next few days.”
Harry got up and whispered something in the Headmaster’s ear. He then turned around and sat back down.
“Please remain cognizant that Professor Potter is an Auror, and should not be snuck up upon. He tends to react... badly to being startled. He has just informed me that a friend of his has shown him a new way to transfigure people into rats. Apparently, this new technique is extremely difficult to reverse. He believes that it would be most unfortunate if someone were to have this happen to him or her.”
Dead silence filled the hall.
Dumbledore smiled with a twinkle in his eye; the students were beginning to figure out that he’d been mostly kidding. Hermione looked at Harry with a devious grin on her face. “You’re a mean, mean man,” she whispered.
“And yet, you still find it in your heart to call me your friend. I’m touched,” he told her.
The Headmaster clapped once and declared, “Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Dig in!”
The food magically appeared on the tables and everyone began devouring.
“Why... Harry Potter! It’s been positively ages!”
“Hello,” he greeted the Fat Lady. “Hello, Violet,” he greeted the other, temporary occupant of the painting.
“Hello, Harry! Is the missus coming across the pond to school?”
“She’ll be coming over sometime in the next two days. She needed to get things set up back home.”
“How’s the sister,” the Fat Lady asked. “She always was amusing to talk to. Except when she threatened me when I wouldn’t let her in.”
“Oh, she’s fine. Still working at the local high school.”
“Excellent. Violet’s just told me of your temporary assignment. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” he replied. “I’m sure Professor McGonagall will be by to officially tell you shortly. In the meantime, Hanky Panky.”
“Here you go, dear.” The Portrait-hole opened.
“Thanks,” he responded.
He stepped into the Gryffindor common room. It had not changed one iota from the time that he was a student.
No, that wasn’t exactly true.
The banners were new.
Some of the wingback chairs had been reupholstered.
But otherwise, everything was exactly the same.
It was just like he remembered.
Even the student traffic was the same. There was conversation, students were running around collecting items from their rooms, and the first years were sitting quietly in the corner. His youngest was sitting with Lily and the twins.
He put two fingers into his mouth, and let an ear-splitting whistle loose.
Everything stopped dead.
Every eye was staring at him.
“Hi.” He smiled. “For those of you who do not know who I am, I am Harry Potter.” He pulled his hair off of his forehead to display his scar for a moment.
“Just so that everyone is informed, Professor Dumbledore has made me the Interim Gryffindor Head of House until the start of second term, when Professor McGonagall will resume her normal duties. If you could please inform any of your classmates that aren’t present, I will be very grateful.”
One of the seventh years raised their hands.
“Does this mean she’s not teaching?”
“She’s teaching five half-day blocks of Transfiguration. Professor Hermione Weasley is teaching the Wednesday morning and Thursday afternoon blocks...”
He glanced around nervously.
“And SNAPE will be covering Monday afternoons.”
A collective groan came out of the third and fifth years.
“Double Potions in the morning and then Transfiguration with Snape in the afternoon!?” James was indignant.
“Hey,” Minerva Weasley admonished, “We don’t want him either.”
Harry just held out his hands in a helpless gesture. “Don’t curse the messenger,” he told them. “If you don’t like the teaching arrangements, go and see Dumbledore.”
The students grumbled.
“On a lighter note, we will be having open Quidditch tryouts starting tomorrow for the next two weeks. Our Co-Captains this year are Anna Wood and James Potter.”
The students applauded.
“As the majority of last year’s team has graduated, I am going to be functioning as coach this year as well. If you think that you might want to play, please contact one of your captains. I would like to make clear that I am here in an advisory role to the captains during the selection process, but all decisions as to who makes the team will be solely up to them. Please direct any bribe money in their direction.”
This earned him some sparse laughter.
“That just about covers it, then. Everybody should go up to bed. Especially those of you who have Double Potions and Transfiguration with Snape tomorrow.” He looked at his own course schedule. “Well, at least you’ve got me in between. Sleep tight.”
They all went up to bed. Joyce, before ascending the stairs, came over and planted a kiss on his cheek.
He ruffled her messy black hair. “G’nite Sweetheart.”
“Ready to go,” Buffy asked.
“Yep.” She stuck her wand in the front pocket of her overalls. “I’m gonna get going.”
Willow looked at her watch. “It’s like...” She did the math in her head. “Two thirty in the morning there.”
Harry awoke the next morning lying on his left side, with his arm around something soft. He felt around, and it was a female something. He took a deep breath.
It smelled like his wife.
He glanced at the clock. It read quarter after seven.
He kissed his wife’s neck. “Dawnie,” he murmured in her ear.
“Mmmmm,” she replied.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“It’s quarter after seven. As much as I like waking up next to a beautiful woman in the morning, it’s time to get ready for breakfast.”
“Mmmmm. I’ll meet you downstairs... seven forty-five.”
Harry stepped out of his rooms while straightening his black Auror’s robes and nearly jammed his elbow into Snape’s gut.
“Watch it, Potter,” he snapped.
“Oh be quiet, Cranky Pants,” he retorted.
Snape’s eyes narrowed. “You leave that ruddy adorable little chit out of this.”
They began to walk to the Great Hall.
“Do I detect a bit of affection for my Sister-in-Law’s best friend?”
“That, Mister Potter, is none of your business.”
“Well, in case you care,” he told the Potions Master, “She’ll be making a guest appearance in my class later today.”
Snape walked in silence, with a grin on his face.
It was a frightening sight to behold.
Harry wondered who had done the schedule. It was brutal. He’d had the first year Gryffindors and the First year Hufflepuffs that morning, followed by the second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. After lunch, he was scheduled with the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, followed by the third year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.
It had been an unusual morning.
It was promising to be an even more unusual afternoon.
Harry watched with an amused look on his face as the fifth years filtered in, along with the two adult witches he’d been expecting.
As soon as everyone had assembled, he began speaking.
“Hello, class. Welcome to your first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year. I would like to take this moment to introduce my two assistants. The first is my wife, Mrs. Potter.”
He pointed to where his wife was sitting in her seat. She waved.
“Our special guest star this evening is Professor Willow Rosenberg.”
He indicated the redhead. She smiled bashfully.
“And no, she’s not a Weasley.”
The class giggled. Except for Fred’s son. He smirked.
“We’ll be starting out with curses and defensive charms and their uses in duels, and then move on to the Unforgivables and hand-to-hand combat. If we have time, we’ll get into wandless magic. For now, however, I’d like you to watch a demonstration. If you could all go up to the front of the room with Madam Potter, we can get started.”
When the students were standing on the stage at the front of the room, Dawn drew her wand and said, “Murus!”
A blue shimmery barrier snapped into existence where the carpeted stairs met the floor; it extended to the ceiling, and to both perpendicular walls.
Harry muttered something under his breath and flicked his wand. The desks flew to the walls, opening up a large area in the middle of the room.
They assumed the position.
Willow took the first shot. “IMPERIO!”
Harry stood there. He raised an eyebrow. “Is THAT all you’ve got? You’re getting feeble in your old age. EXPELLIARMUS!!!”
Willow was thrown backwards across the room. As she was sliding down the wall, her wand ended up in Harry’s hand.
The students gasped. Professor Rosenberg had just cast an unforgivable curse. And Professor Potter had not even flinched when it had hit him.
He turned to address the class. “Now that I have her wand,” Harry began, “She can’t hurt me anymore. Right?”
There were affirmative sounding murmurs, and Potter replied, “Wrong.”
Willow picked herself up off of the floor, and bellowed with a gesture of her hand, “CRUCIO!!!”
The Auror gritted his teeth and fell to his knees.
Willow let up.
“Man, did THAT ever suck,” he declared, to nobody in particular. “Thanks for pulling your punches, Will. LOCOMOTOR MORTIS!!”
Willow lost her balance, fell, and landed unceremoniously on her posterior.
The class gawked.
The witch muttered, “Finite Incantatem.”
She rose. “Now THAT was uncalled for, Potter. You’ve know me long enough to know that it’s not a good idea to irritate the most powerful witch on the friggin’ planet.”
Her eyes had turned black, she began floating, and her hair was whipped around in a non-existent wind.
“Oh shit,” Dawn swore.
James Potter screamed, “NO!!!”
“Everybody Down!” Dawn cried, dragging her son down to the floor with her.
Harry thrust his wand toward Willow and bellowed, “PROTEGE!”
A beam of green light shot out of the ends of her fingers and bounced off the shield that Harry had raised in front of himself. The beam ricocheted around the room – it ended up breaching Dawn’s barrier at least twice – until it finally bounced out the window and killed a pigeon that was flying past.
The students were stunned. Some of the girls were crying
Dawn Potter rose to a sitting position. Anna Wood was sobbing softly into James’ shoulder. He was rubbing his hand in circles on her back. He was also glaring intensely at his Aunt Willow.
Then he realized something. His father was still standing.
“Annie, look. Dad’s okay.”
Anna looked up and saw Harry there, with a large smile on his face. Willow was back to normal, and was grinning as well. Dawn let down the shield with a smirk.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what the three Unforgivables look like. We will be covering just what each of these do later on, and Mrs. Potter and I will teach you all how to erect the shield that I used to block the Killing Curse.”
The students were sitting quietly, processing the information they’d just been given.
“I should point out that the only reason I’m not hauling Miss Rosenberg off to Azkaban for the rest of her life is I told her to hit me.
A hand rose. It belonged to Ada Malfoy. The little redhead appeared to be suitably impressed. “Where’d you learn that shield charm, Unc- Professor?”
“Actually, I learned it from her,” he pointed at Willow. “My fifth year. It’s quite an interesting story, actually...”
To be continued...
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