Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Harry Potter and the Paternity Puzzle

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

This story is No. 3 in the series "Father of Mine". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: What do you do when your town implodes? Why, go teach at Hogwarts. Giles returns to the school of his youth, and is in for a few surprises. Sequel to Lily and The Right Thing. Read those first.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Giles-CenteredNicolaFR15813,58734426,18413 Jul 0424 Jan 06No


Title: Harry Potter and the Paternity Puzzle

Chapter: Prologue

Author name: Nicola

Pairings: mention of Rupert/Lily. As of now, no Harry pairing. That may change.

Summary: What do you do when your town implodes? Why, go teach at Hogwarts. Giles returns to the school of his youth, and is in for a few surprises. Sequel to Lily and The Right Thing. Read those first.

Disclaimer: Not mine. not mine, not mine. Need I say it again? None of this is mine. Belongs to J.K. Rowling, and Joss Whedon. I'm just borrowing

Story Rating: PG13

Chapter Rating: G

Author’s Note: This is a follow-up to Lily and The Right Thing, which can be found in the Giles-Pairings and Giles-General sections, respectively. You should probably read those first.


What do you do when the town you lived in for the better part of 7 years implodes?

Why, go to England, of course.

What do you do when your Slayer no longer needs you?

What else? Get a new job.

What on earth can a man whose resume includes Practician of Dark Magic, Librarian, and Watcher do for a job?

Why, get a job at his alma mater as a teacher.

What subject could he possibly have the credentials to teach?

Defense Against the Dark Arts, obviously.

This very clearly explained why Rupert Giles was sitting in front of the headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, in a chair he had become very familiar with in his years at the school, the chair reserved for wayward students and new hires.

What he didn’t understand was why Albus Dumbledore was offering him said job.

“Rupert, I do believe you would be perfect for the job. You have much experience in this field, and you have many contacts that would make perfect special guests for this class.”

“But Professor Dumbledore. I am by no means a good role model for these children.”

“Please, I am no longer your Transfiguration teacher. Call me Albus.”

“Albus, then. What could I possibly teach these young witches and wizards that they couldn’t learn from someone else?”

“Rupert, you have much to teach them that other teachers without your history could not. The power of friendship in fighting evil, teamwork, the idea that not everything is black and white, that there are many grey areas. And most importantly of all, that one can come back from the Dark.”

Giles sighed and nodded his head, resigned to teach these children all he could. Besides, chances were, it would only be a year. It had been over 7 years since a DADA professor had held the position for more than one school year.


He climbed the familiar stair up to Ravenclaw Tower and made his way to the rooms that would be his. They were nearby Professor Flitwick’s rooms, and Albus had implied that Rupert would take over the House headship when Filius retired at the end of the year. If he survived that long, of course. Odds were 4 out of 5 that he would be killed, obliviated, ostracized, or kidnapped before the end of the year.

He paused before the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw that hung in front of the entrance to his house’s common room.

“Rupert! How nice to see you! I had heard that you were back.”

“Rowena” he bowed his head.

“The other portraits are very interested at the addition of an available bachelor to the school staff this year.” She winked at him. Rowena had always been quite flirtatious. It was well known that Ravenclaws were studious and intelligent in all fields, including those that had no scholarly value.

Giles smiled and continued on to his rooms.

His first stop was the bathroom, where he pointed his wand, newly acquired from his Gringotts vault, at himself, and said the spell that slowly removed the grey from his hair, smoothed some of the wrinkles, and improved his eyesight. He had never understood why aging potions used a counter-spell instead of a counter-potion, but as long as they worked, he didn’t much care. Leave that to the scientific minds. He had taken a nice big gulp of aging potion every morning since first being assigned to Buffy, when the Council informed him that he would be incognito, as to hide himself from any wizards that might happen upon the slayer, as he had compromised their security be being a wizard. He snorted. Pompous asses. Look where that got them. Exploded into oblivion.

He left the bathroom, his newly rejuvenated 30-something self, and took a good look around his new home.

His things had been unpacked and placed exactly as he would have placed them. He walked to the fireplace, which was currently bare, it still being to warm for a fire, and looked at the mantle. The house elves had placed all of his photographs there, neatly arranged chronologically. The left-most pictures were muggle, of him as a young boy. The next set was all wizarding, mostly him and Lily in various stages of growth. The final wizarding picture was slightly singed on the corner. It was of Lily, James, and a small baby boy. He had been unable to stop himself from picking up the picture from the ground, inside the burning house of Lily and James, the night they died. The happy family was smiling and waving, James Potter completely oblivious that the boy in his arms was not his son.

That his young wife had cheated on him before they had married, in a freak clothes fluke the night before her best friend was to leave and never return.

Giles sighed.

The boy would have just turned 16. He would have to be a muggle, or surely Albus would have mentioned him. The batty old codger knew everything he wasn’t supposed to, Giles was sure he knew the true identity of the father of Lily’s son.

Lily’s son. Rupert’s son. Somewhere, out there was a 16 year-old boy, with dark hair and green eyes. Rupert knew his chances of ever seeing the boy were slim.

After all, he didn’t even know the child’s name.
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking