Chapter 7: A New Professor

There was nothing much to see at first, just a gaggle of trunks, parcels and long poster-sized parchments that entered the room, completely hiding the figure bearing them.

The professor in question appeared several seconds later—when he set the items preceding him on the ground. He was a young man of fair build, his hair some indefinite shade of black and brown, settling out with snips of both colors speckled throughout with sea-blue-grey eyes and hands that were very small and very thin. He was dressed as a muggle, in black trousers and a blue hoodie-styled sweatshirt, with his teaching robes thrown over the crook of one arm and he looked quite definitely flustered.

"Ah, er." He gingerly set down the armful, turned and closed the door and muttered something at it, before he turned 'round and began to gather up the parcels. "My ah, apologies." He said, politely. "I did not expect to be delayed and something came up. Just a moment." He carried everything to the little door at the top where the little door let to the personal quarters. He disappeared inside and shut the door firmly behind him.

Whispers started up the moment he disappeared from view.

"Did you see him?" Lavender Brown squealed. "He looks positively dreamy!"

"Those eyes." Another girl gushed. "Oh I hope he can teach us everything-ow!" Someone elbowed her. Several heated whispers started up in their corner of the room.

Pansy Parkinson gave a regal sniff from the other side of the room, but she didn't make a single disparaging comment to the other girl as she usually would. Her eyes, however, remained fixed on the recently locked door. A ripple of murmurs passed through the Slytherins and Harry followed Pansy's gaze to Draco, where the blond had finally moved, sitting straight up with his eyes locked on the recently closed door.

He realized that all the Slytherins were now sitting straight up and more relaxed than they'd been several seconds before. He also realized that a wave of warmth had filled the room as the new professor had walked past. In fact, Harry'd been close enough to almost touch him and it was if the man had been a walking fireplace! Harry swallowed. He could still feel the tingling of warmth all the way down to his toes. It felt good, very pleasant and rather satisfying, seeing as he'd been almost shivering just moments before. He tucked that detail, and a few more, away for later. Today was certainly proving itself to be a day of surprises and strangeness.

Or perhaps he'd simply never bothered to pay much attention to it before, Harry mused.

"Temptrificus Portgas!" A strong voice rang out.

He twitched, the closest his body allowed to an actual startled movement. It was almost as if it were ingrained into him to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

The students flinched as a whole and then nearly everyone leaned forward in their seats and stared.

Atop the desk, a glowing blue ring had formed and turned to a solid blue circle from which, the head and shoulders emerged of their new DADA professor. The rest of said professor immediately followed, this time, clad in his teaching robes and decidedly more wizard attire than the trousers and hoodie. He stood atop the desk for a moment, fixing his cuff sleeves and then raised his eyes to survey the room as if he'd just realized his students were there.

"Hello." He said, simply. "My name is Terius. I expect you to use it, if you have any questions. I prefer the title of Teacher, over Professor, but that is a personal preference and I will answer to both for now. I am your new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I shall try my utmost best to teach you something new and useful for a future point in your lives."

Terius folded his arms neatly across his chest. "This classroom setting will be distinctly different than that of your other classes. I expect you to show up on time and with all your materials, or you can spend the class period outside in the corridor." The blue-grey eyes narrowed. "Teaching is a part-time profession for me and if I am taking time out of my busy schedule to teach you, I expect you to show up on time. You will be responsible for any missed work or class teachings, if you miss a class, I expect to see you as soon as you are able. You will only be excused under extreme circumstances and by extreme, I do mean extreme with the accompaniment of a note for your resident healer." He frowned. "Or Medi-witch, whichever term is more familiar to you." He bent to a crouch and uncrossing his arms, effortlessly swung himself from the desk to stand in front of it. "Firstly, what is taught in this classroom, remains in this classroom. There are some spells, experiments and subjects we will be covering that is not fully sanctioned by our dear Minister of Magic, however, in light of our current status at the reality of a possible wizarding war, I have been granted allowance to teach you wall what I see fit, in preparation for the future. You will not be practicing any of the spells learned here anywhere else, but in this classroom. If they are cast anywhere else for anything other than to save your very life, I will know and you do not want to know what I shall do about it." A few students squirmed and several of them looked as if they were about to speak, when Terius lifted a hand. "In addition to the Minster of Magic, I also have Headmaster Dumbledore's explicit permission for what will be taught here. This is a significant responsibility that is being placed upon your shoulders, however, you are capable young adults and I expect you to show a modicum of common sense and sound logic in regards to this knowledge. You are your own person, so I expect to see intelligent questions and interactions, not what you think I expect of you. It has been made clear that your past professors of this subject may have been less than satisfactory, so I will be attempting to remedy this in my own way. Now, secondly, there will be practical exercises and demonstrations as mentioned earlier. You will all participate. You will only be excused if you have a signed permission slip from your parents, legal guardians and…"

The rest of the class went on and Harry found himself wishing he could disappear into the floor.

There was something about that man that made him feel as if he were looking straight through him. Harry didn't like it at all. He had begun to wish he'd taken a seat somewhere in the back—never mind that it might have others talking about it. His scar didn't hurt from the intense stares though, and Harry was thankful for that, hoping that perhaps, the new professor didn't have anything to do with old moldy-shorts. It would be a more than welcome relief.

It was tiring to have to worry about his death every time he set foot in a classroom where he should've been taught ways to save himself. Terius' introduction had served to worry rather than reassure him, particularly with his mention of permissions from both Dumbledore and the Minster of Magic. Harry didn't want to know why exactly the man would need permissions.

Thankfully though, Harry could tell within minutes, that he'd be able to get away without using magic, for at least the first few weeks as Professor Terius outlined his curriculum. He certainly did have a very different style of teaching and Harry hoped that was a good thing and not a bad one.

He scribbled a few notes on his parchment and tried to pay attention, but his stomach was now making its displeasure known and he could literally feel his body threatening to shut down on him. That was definitely not good. He pinched his arms and then his thighs, trying use the small sparks of pain to keep himself awake. He was getting really, really tired.

One surefire way to give this entire act away on the first day was definitely to faint in the middle of what should've been his favorite class.

Harry gritted his teeth. He willed the Professor to hurry up and stop talking already. He just wanted out and he wanted lunch!

Several long, agonizing minutes later, Professor Terius glanced at the clock on the far wall, muttered something and then turned his back to the class. "You are dismissed early today, because I have a great deal of things to attend to. Read chapters one and two in your textbook and be ready to answer any questions. Dismissed."

The classroom began to clear.

"All except for Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, Mr. Nott, Mr. Henry, Mr. Potter and Miss Dawn. A word, if you would?"

Hermione hovered in the doorway, as Ron took up residence beside him. They both shot worried looks at Harry and he could only shrug in response. He didn't have to be a genius to know that being singled out on the first day of class was a bad thing—not to mention the names that had been called with him. With the exception of Ryan Henry and Jennifer Dawn, the rest were all Slytherins.

"That does not include you, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley." There was a bored note in the professor's voice as he began to tap out the chalkboard eraser without getting dust on his dark teaching robes.

Ron's eyebrows arched clear up into his hairline and he dragged Hermione out with him, along with a pantomimed apology to Harry.

The boys in question slowed their movements and reluctantly made their way up to the professor's desk. He continued his decidedly unmagical method of erasing the giant chalkboard and turned them after the room had emptied. His piercing gaze swept quickly over the group and then he frowned as if what he saw didn't agree with what he was about to say. "Mr. Potter, you may leave." He made a dismissive wave with one hand and his gaze flickered next to Mr. Henry.

Harry didn't wait to figure out why. He left as fast as his legs could carry him and burst through the classroom door, smacking right into a solid body.

"Whoa, where's the fire?" Lee Jordan caught him lightly around the shoulders as he came barreling through the classroom doors. He threw a curious look over Harry's shoulder into the near empty classroom. "Harry?" He looked to Harry. "Hey, are you alright? You look a little-"

"I'm going to lie down until the next class period." Harry interrupted. He could feel the words tumbling out before he could double check them. He hoped he sounded normal. "Tell Ron or Hermione I'm fine, if they ask."

Lee blinked. He was more likely to tell Fred or George, seeing as they were in the same year, but he didn't say that aloud. Instead, he cheerfully slapped a hand over Harry's forehead. "Are you alright? Dizzy? Fever? A little too much-"

"I'm fine, Lee. Really." Harry flashed a smile and jerked away from the hands as quick as he could. The very touch of them made his head spin—in a bad way—and it was almost as if his Dragel side was screaming at him to get as far as way as possible. Harry didn't have the energy to puzzle out why. He could feel his stomach threatening to rebel and knew he needed to get out the hallways and somewhere safe as fast as he could. "I just need to lie down. It's a headache. A little one. I didn't get to sleep much last night. 'Scuse me." And Harry bolted.

Harry felt the familiar prickles of unease dancing just out of reach through his exhausted body. He could feel the older boy's eyes on him, even as he rounded the corner of the hallway and hurried on to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't like them. It was as if the eyes were trying to see deeper than the surface, to find out what was going on with him.

It should have bothered him.

But as his stomach began to rebel, Harry, for once, absolutely didn't care.

Harry spent the next several minutes heaving over a toilet in the boy's lavatories.

There was precious little to come up, but his stomach wasn't happy until it had tried its best.

Exhausted, Harry sank down on the floor of the bathroom stall and worked to pull himself together. He was feeling so incredibly tired, he couldn't think straight. The moment he was able, he headed for Gryffindor tower. Lunch could wait—indefinitely.

Harry skipped lunch. His formerly protesting stomach had no questions about that the moment he considered sleep over food. It was as if his body immediately agreed and began shutting down just as it had threatened to in DADA.

No further thought was needed, Harry just flopped onto his bed and moaned for Dobby with the last tendrils of his consciousness clinging to him. "Wake me up before the next class." He instructed, wearily, when the house elf seemed about to launch into a barely contained panic attack. "I gotta sleep, Dobby." Was all he managed to get out before his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and Harry Potter had gone to the land of nod.