Chapter 5: Coming Home

It looked exactly as it did when he last saw it, with its ancient, majestic towers, and its turrets that stretched far into the sky, and the clear, still lake that was the color of slate on this overcast day. It seemed as if not a single thing had changed since he had been away, but then, that should not have surprised him; he had left school only two years ago, after all.

Still, those two years might as well have been a thousand lifetimes ago. So much had happened since then that at times he felt as if he were no longer the same person, but of course, he was. Being back here again, he realized he was.

"Mr. Potter..."

The familiar, slightly jittery voice made him smile instantly, and at once brought back a tidal wave of memories. He turned around and saw Professor McGonagall, wearing her emerald-green velvet robes and her square-rimmed glasses. Even her customary feathered hat sat askew on her tightly-fastened bun.

"How are you, Harry," she said, stepping forward to embrace him, something he was certainly not expecting--this was Professor McGonagall, after all. "It is so good to see you..." She gave him one of her rare smiles, and in that moment, Harry felt like an awestruck eleven year old again.

"It's good to see you too, Professor," he said. Softly, he added, "I didn't think I'd be back here for a few more years."

She smiled and nodded, a silent acknowledgement that she understood what it had taken for him to return to this place after what had happened. "Life surprises us in many ways, doesn't it?" she said. "That's what Professor Dumbledore likes to remind us all the time."

Harry knew only too well how true those words were.

"Speaking of Professor Dumbledore," she said, "he's been quite looking forward to see you again... Shall we?"

Harry followed her to the old, familiar gargoyle, which jumped aside obligingly when she said, "Butterbeer," and they walked up the marble staircase together, coming to the massive double doors to Dumbledore's office.

She must have noticed him waiting for her cue, because she said, "Go on... He's been waiting for a while now."

"Won't you be coming in as well?"

She shook her head and smiled. "I think he wanted to speak to you alone, Harry. But we'll meet again later, I'm sure..."

He watched her leave, then opened the heavy doors. As soon as he entered, he was unexpectedly overcome with emotion. Coming through these doors was like coming home for him, a home he had never really left, though he had thought he did.

The former headmasters and headmistresses, who normally dozed quietly in their respective portraits, sat up and took notice of his presence; some even smiled and waved at him, to his great surprise. And at the desk sat Professor Dumbledore, his clear blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

"Harry," he said, and an infusion of warmth shot through Harry at the sound of his voice.

"Professor... How are you?"

"Oh, I can't complain..."

He rose from the chair, trembling slightly as he did. Harry fought hard not to let his surprise show on his face. Had he gotten weaker, more feeble since Harry had seen him last? The thought of it, of Dumbledore showing signs of great age, was unfathomable to him.

As if reading his mind, Dumbledore smiled and said, "Yes, I've gotten older, Harry. I have for the last few years now--perhaps you've only now noticed, because you've been away for some time?"

The sharp wit was most definitely still intact.

Dumbledore used a cane now--he hadn't two years ago. He came to the front of his desk, where Harry stood, and just as Professor McGonagall had taken him by surprise when she embraced him, so did Dumbledore.

"It's good to see you, son," he said, patting Harry's shoulder. "I trust... that you would not have come all this way without bearing good news?"

Harry smiled. "You certainly deserved an answer," he said, "and I thought that you would want to hear my answer in person."

Dumbledore's eyes crinkled into a teasing grin. "Only if the answer is yes, Harry," he said. "Otherwise, you've wasted a trip here, I'm afraid." He laughed, making Harry laugh as well.

"That's good news, then. I haven't wasted my trip after all..." He waited for Dumbledore to look at him again before he continued. "My answer is yes."

"It's yes? Are you sure, Harry?"

He nodded. "I'd be honored to teach here, Professor. I only hope... I can live up to your expectations. I would never want to let you of all people down."

"Oh that is one thing of which I have no doubt... No doubt at all..."

He slowly made his way back to the other side of the desk again, and Harry cringed inside, seeing his difficulty. If he hadn't been certain that Dumbledore would only shoo him away if he tried to help, he would have done so without a moment's hesitation. Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh when he finally sat down, and Harry had a feeling he already knew what Dumbledore was about to say.

"I am very sorry about what's happened, Harry," he said. "I wish... that it were under different circumstances that you came back to this place."

Quietly, Harry said, "Me too. But... I am grateful you asked me to come here, Professor."

He smiled. "I'm glad. I thought it was only appropriate."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir... why..."

"Why did I?"

Harry nodded. "I must confess I've never really given any thought to teaching before. I was... surprised to get your letter..."

"We all have talents, Harry," he said. "Sometimes, we have talents we may have never been aware of until we were called upon to use them." He reached over and picked up a tiny Snitch on his desk that Harry hadn't noticed, and held it up in front of him. "You were blessed with a gift for Quidditch. But it was not all that you were blessed with."

He was looking intently in Harry's eyes; Harry wondered if he was somehow looking into his soul.

"Will a week be enough for you to prepare for your classes?" he said. "We can delay your classes until you're ready--you'll still be welcome to join us at the teacher's table at the Sorting Feast, of course."

Harry let out a laugh. "Yes, I think a week will be fine."

"Good. Then it's all settled." He started to get up again, and Harry took his cue and got to his feet as well.

"Thank you, Professor, for... for everything."

As he came to the door, he head Dumbledore say something to him once again.

"Oh, and I thought you might want to know... Ginny Weasley arrived the week before last."

Harry turned to face him. "She did?" He felt a smile form on his lips. "That's right, Ron told me she would be starting as a teacher this term as well..."

"Indeed. The youngest professor ever at Hogwarts, Miss Weasley."

"Her family is very proud, I can tell you that."

Dumbledore smiled. "As they should be," he said. "She's in Professor Flitwick's old room right now, as a matter of fact. She wanted to go through some of his notes before she started next week." Harry could have sworn he saw a flash of something in his smile when he spoke. "In case you wanted to catch up with her."

"Perhaps I should go surprise her, then," he said.

He bid him farewell and as he turned the doorknob, he thought he heard Dumbledore say, "I think she might like that indeed."

It amazed him just how well he still knew his way around this maze of hallways. He had thought that two years away from this place would have surely made him forget all those secret corridors and passageways, but as he made his way through, the more he actually remembered them.

"Harry Potter! Is that really the famous Harry Potter?!"

The voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a very familiar, albeit rather unwelcome, sight. "Hello, Peeves," he muttered. Feeling a bit feisty, he added, "Haven't they banished you yet?"

"Hmph!" the poltergeist huffed. "Two years out in the world, and all of the sudden, he's too high and mighty for this place... What's the matter, Potter? Came crawling back when the Cannons booted you?"

Harry immediately felt as if he had just been slapped in the face. Of course, he probably deserved it after what he had just said. Still, he was in no mood to tangle with Peeves, and chose instead to just walk away. As he did, Peeves continued to taunt him, his jabs getting increasingly more stinging, until at last, he must have tired of Harry's refusal to fight back, and gave up--stalking off elsewhere, presumably to resume being a nuisance to his favorite target, Mr. Filch.

At last, he was left alone in the corridors once more, and he came to Professor Flitwick's old room. He paused at the doorframe, seeing movement inside. It was Ginny, standing over the podium where Flitwick used to lecture (or at least, it was right next to the stack of books, upon which he used to stand when he taught), rummaging through what looked to be some old papers.

He watched her for a few moments, unsure whether he should disturb her. She looked a little different than the last time they had seen each other, but of course, that had been under rather grim circumstances, when Ron had been in the hospital last year, after his encounter with a werewolf. They had not had a chance to really talk during then; indeed the terrible memory was all a blur to him now.

Her hair was longer than it was then, fuller and a more vibrant red. It fell over her shoulders, and occasionally, she would push it back behind her ears whenever it would graze her face. She was also a little taller; it was noticeable, even though she was bent over slightly.

She looked, all in all, older than Harry remembered her being. In a way, that wasn't surprising. His memory of her was still, and had always been, that of the shy, timid teenager, who could barely look into his eyes at times or say more than a few sentences to him without blushing--despite Ron's fervent insistence that she was quite a chatterbox at home.

So it should not have surprised him at all that it was a young woman who stood before him, a nineteen year old, not the blushing ten year old he had first met on Platform 9 3/4.

She must have felt someone's eyes on her, for she stopped what she was doing and looked towards the door. Her eyes widened when she saw him, her mouth opening slightly. It was obvious she was stunned.

He smiled at her.

"Hello, Ginny."