After

Harry followed Professor McGonagall into a ground floor classroom and she spoke as if she were asking his opinion on the matter when she said, “I think I’m going to move the Defense Against the Dark Arts department to the ground floor now that Firenze has decided to give up his post as Divination teacher.”

Harry knew what the reasoning for that must be, he had heard some of what happened at Hogwarts from Neville and Luna, “Right, probably best to move it after what happened,” He said, still unsure why she was letting him know this.

“Mmm, so you do know about that,” The professor muttered, “I had assumed that Mr Longbottom and Miss Lovegood would fill you in. Yes, that is the reason Potter, after what the Carrow twins did in the classrooms on the fourth floor I think it best to rearrange the departments to abandon those rooms.” She sighed, and Harry could see that she was haunted by it before she shook off the recollection and said, “But that isn’t really what I wanted to talk with you about.” 

Harry had reached the point he was most anxious to discuss, “Yeah, I was wondering what you could want from me,” He said humbly, “I don’t have any special skills or anything like Hermione, if anyone was going to get pulled away to do something specific I figured it’d be her.” 

“Usually you would be right,” McGonagall said with a small smile and a roll of her eyes, “But her specialties don’t extend in the direction I need. But we should discuss this in my office,” With that she laid a hand on his shoulder and in a blink apparated them both to the headteacher’s tower. 

Harry landed surprisingly lightly, and without the wave of nausea that he usually got from apparating. “Oh, alright then. I thought only Dumbledore could do that,” He said in surprise.

“No, not just him,” Minerva said with a slightly darkened tone. Her eyes, behind the square spectacles, shot across the room to behind the large oak desk and Harry noticed that the portrait that was supposed to show Dumbledore was turned to the wall. “Every headteacher is given the ability to move more easily about the castle.”

Harry was starting to feel awkward again, “I see,” he muttered, feeling like he’d stepped into the middle of a domestic dispute. 

McGonagall went back behind her desk and said, “have a seat, Harry, I want your opinion on the matter of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.” 

Harry’s surprise multiplied and he forgot that he had been headed toward the somewhat victorian-looking sofa near the hearth. “What?” He asked, inadvertently sounding a bit rude.

The professor was unphased by his response, she responded with a slight smile, “Well Potter you’ve taught it before, I just thought you might have an opinion on how it should be taught in your final year.” She crossed the room with a few papers motioned again for him to sit. 

Harry complied, unable to form a reply. 

The headmistress didn’t need him to. “I have a former Defense Teacher who has agreed to return for the year though she is not willing to go on past that, and I couldn’t blame her. I don’t know if I would want to teach at a hundred and twenty-two either.” 

Harry’s eyebrows rose at that, “A hundred and twenty-two?” 

“Magical people do tend to live impressively long lifespans, as I am sure you are aware, Potter.” The professor said sardonically, as she settled in a tartan armchair that Harry couldn’t help but find slightly amusing. “The last time she taught was in nineteen fifty-four, before the position was cursed. She’s a good teacher, went from here to be training specialist for the Auror department,” The headmistress sounded like she was trying to convince herself. 

This left Harry ever more confused as to why she needed anything from him, “Right, well… pardon me professor but if she’s coming back and she’s good then why do you need my opinion?”

“Yes, I suppose that would be rather unobvious, forgive me for burying the lede,” The headmistress said, focusing again on the present conversation. “I know for a fact that she was a good teacher, and her resume would be very impressive, my only concern is that she has been out of the sphere of education for nearly twenty-five years.” With that it became very apparent that Professor McGonagall did not trust this new old Defense professor to be up to date in the subject or practices of education. 

“Right, yeah… I could see how that might be a problem,” Harry said, wishing Hermione were around to say something cleverer than he could produce.

“Good, because I am asking you to look through the materials she’s sent to me and note what you think might be… ineffective in the modern classroom,” The headmistress held the stack of parchment out to him and, without thinking, Harry took it. 

“I don’t see how anything I could say will help here,” He said, without even looking at what was before him. “Surely you’d know better.”

“It’s not my specialty, Potter,” The headmistress said with a bit more of a smile than she usually gave him, then adding a look over her spectacles as she said, “it is yours however, if I’m remembering your fifth year correctly.” 

“That… that wasn’t… that was nothing special, Professor. I just knew we’d need more than books to…and besides I was just the leader because I knew more than the other students, not because I’m a teacher. I’m not a teacher.” 

“Potter, let me ask you this,” The headmistress began, struggling to hold back a smile, “What do you call someone with advanced knowledge in a necessary subject who passes that knowledge onto others during the course of regular structured meetings?” She raised her eyebrows at him and Harry knew what she meant. 

“A teacher,” Her muttered admittingly. 

“Precisely,” Professor McGonagall said, standing up from the armchair while conjuring an inkwell and a quill in front of Harry. She was only being a little sarcastic when she said, “Your opinion is valid as that of the youngest recorded Defense teacher in Hogwarts history. Whether your classes were sanctioned or otherwise.” 

Harry sighed, almost resigned to doing as she asked, but still said, “Professor, I still think that a real teacher would do a better job at this, whatever their specialty.” 

As she walked away back to her desk the professor said, “Yes, I thought along the same lines, at first. I don’t usually second-guess myself, but you being so keenly interested in the subject I still think it best for you to add your opinions. However, you will find that my own suggestions are already marked there, Potter. ” 

Harry, giving up on arguing with her, flipped through a few pages and said in awe, “Yes, I see that, though how you had the time I’ll never know.” 

Minerva thought back to the week she had spent in hospital and the weariness after and the overwhelming emotions leading up to her grand collapse and said with a sigh, “And I hope you never do, Potter. I hope you never do.”