Content Harry Potter
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Author Notes:

Many thanks to my brilliant Brit-picker, Kelpie, and my fabulous betas, Alexander, Asad, Iris and Rich!   Thanks too to Mark Anders Harrison for help with a Latin incantation, and Mike McKean for his help with a sports question!

NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM!!!     "Star Sons 1 - Dawn of the Two" an original fantasy novel by Abraxan (Lynda Sappington)! Click here to order! If you want an autographed bookplate, send a business-sized SASE to:

Whimsy Hill Publishing,
15401 Eaton Pike,
West Alexandria OH 45381.

"Hi, beautiful," Harry said as he bent over Ginny to give her a quick kiss before dropping into a seat beside her at the Gryffindor table. "What’s good for lunch?" She handed him the platter of chicken just as Colin answered Harry’s question.


"Everything’s great, as usual." Colin was talking around a mouthful of chicken.

Harry laughed. In some ways, Colin was a lot like Ron. He always enjoyed his visits with both Creevey brothers. Harry loaded his plate with food and tucked in, joining the chatter around him when he could.

"I thought you had to be in London today," Colin said. "Don’t you have a class tonight?"

"Yeah, I do." Harry wiped his face with his napkin. "I have to leave in a few minutes, actually."

"You’re here a lot more than you used to be. Has your class schedule changed or something?" Dennis said.

Harry and Ginny shared a glance, but kept their faces carefully still. Harry looked up at Dennis. "No, my schedule’s the same, but we’ll be living in my quarters after we marry in a few weeks, so I’m moving my books and things I need for classes to my quarters here. And this way, I get to spend more time with Ginny."

"Don’t you and Ron study together anymore?" Colin said.

"Yeah, when we need to, but he’s married, mate. If we don’t need to study together, he works with Hermione and I work alone. If I’m alone, I may as well be here as anywhere, right?" He turned to Ginny for confirmation.

"That’s right! And I’m glad you’re here more often," Ginny added, leaning her head on his shoulder for a moment.

"Me too." Harry kissed her forehead, then got to his feet. "I’ve got to fly. See you later."

* * * * *

A few days later, Oswald Murphy, the Lions’ team manager, looked up to see three dour-looking men had entered his office. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"We’re here to see Harry Potter," one man said. He had a pinched face, emphasized by the small black pince nez perched precariously on his long thin nose. His mouth seemed to be permanently frozen in a disapproving scowl.

"Why do you need to see Potter?" Murphy said. He didn’t like the look of these three. He was certain they meant trouble for Harry.

"School business," the first man said, clamping his mouth shut as if he were afraid Murphy might try to pry the information out of him.

"He’s at practice now. He won’t be finished for a couple of hours. You’re welcome to wait, of course—"

"I didn’t make myself clear," the man said. "We’re here to see Potter. We need to see him now."

"Who are you gents and what do you want with him?" Murphy said more firmly.

"I am Chatsworth Thistlewood," the man said with an imperious sniff, as if Murphy should’ve known who he was. "My associates are Blanford Peabody and Pollock Smedley." He indicated the two sour-faced men with him. Peabody was short, round and ordinary-looking, but with the bright red nose of someone who enjoyed his brandy too much. Smedley was taller than Peabody and had pig-like eyes in a round pink face with a magnificent black moustache.

"And why do you need to see Potter again?"

"School business. We don’t need to say more," Thistlewood said, sniffing importantly. "We really must see him right away."

"We don’t interrupt practice," Murphy said firmly.

"He’s the Seeker. The others can play without him for a while," Peabody said, his voice stiff and disapproving.

Murphy sighed. If the Auror School had sent these men to talk to Harry, he’d better bring Harry to them. As he stood up, he looked at the men again. They sure don’t look like Aurors. He shook his head and left his office without another word.

* * * * *

Harry was nearing the Snitch when he heard someone on the ground calling his name.

"Harry? Harry! Come down, please!"

Harry ignored the call and kept going. The Snitch was just out of reach. He put on more speed and would’ve caught the golden ball if he hadn’t been startled by his name being blared over the stadium speaker system.

"Harry Potter! You are needed in the manager’s office! Please land immediately!"

The Snitch seemed to laugh at Harry as it skittered away from him. He growled in frustration as he aimed his broom toward the ground.

"You made me miss!" he grumbled when he landed beside Murphy and Smithers, the team captain. "What’s up?"

"You have some visitors, Harry," Murphy said. "Sorry to bother you. They were quite insistent on seeing you right away."

"Who are they?" Harry said as he fell into step with Murphy after Smithers waved him off the field.

"Three blokes from school, or so they say. They say it’s school business, anyway."

"Huh?" Harry turned a blank look on Murphy as he shouldered his broom and walked inside with him. Harry couldn’t imagine what would be so important that the Auror School would send three blokes to see him and interrupt his practice. And why had they not called Ron down as well? Maybe they thought it would be easier for the team to keep practicing without a Seeker than without a Keeper. Harry shrugged. They were right in that assumption. At least they were being logical about it, but what could they possibly want?

Harry was shocked to see three totally non-Auror-like men in the office. All three were older men and soft-bodied, as if they’d never worked hard in their lives. Most Aurors tried to stay fit so they could run after felons if they had to.

Harry hung his broom carefully on the broom rack inside the door, then turned to face his visitors. "I’m Harry Potter. What’s up?"

"We represent the Board of Governors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Thistlewood said, puffing himself up importantly. "We need to speak to you in private."

Murphy clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Go ahead and use the office, lad. Call me when you’re finished."

"Thanks, Murph." As Murphy left, Harry gestured toward the chairs ranged in front of the desk. "Have a seat, gentlemen. Would you like something to drink?"

"This is not a social call, Mr. Potter," Peabody said, his voice stern, his eyes glittering strangely.

Harry stared at the three wizards, who stood shoulder to shoulder, as if they needed each other for courage. "OK. What kind of call is it, then?"

Thistlewood answered. "A disciplinary call."

Harry was gobsmacked. "What?"

"You have been accused of improper and unbecoming behaviour toward a student, Mr. Potter," Smedley said with a disapproving shake of his head. "These are very serious charges."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Smedley unrolled a long scroll and began reading off dates and offences. Each offence was an instance of Harry holding Ginny’s hand, or kissing her, or having his arm around her, or hugging her, all during this school year.

Harry’s temper flared. "That’s not improper behaviour! We’re engaged to be married! And we were engaged before I was asked to be the Flying Instructor! I was told the Board had approved everything."

The men quailed a bit in the face of Harry’s temper. Smedley was the first to recover. "You will face a disciplinary hearing on March 26, Mr. Potter."

Harry couldn’t believe it. "No, I won’t! That’s my wedding day."

Peabody had regained his courage. His voice was stern again. "You will, or you’ll suffer the consequences, Mr. Potter."

"What bloody consequences? Detention?" Harry snarled. Then he remembered a passing comment of Dumbledore’s. "Hang on. The Board’s meeting right now, isn’t it? At the Ministry?"

Thistlewood glared at Harry. "That’s no business of yours."

"The hell it isn’t." Harry turned on his heel and stalked out of the office. He saw Murphy down the corridor. "I have to leave for a while, Murph. I’ll be back as soon as I can."

"What’s wrong, Harry? Is there something I can do to help?"

"Thanks, but I’ll handle it. It’s just a misunderstanding. I’ll be back soon."

The three men had emerged from the office. In front of their astonished eyes, Harry turned into a phoenix and flashed out of sight.

* * * * *

Harry arrived at the Visitors Entrance to the Ministry of Magic and changed back into a human. He entered the phone booth, punched in 62442, stated his business to the automated witch’s voice and pinned on his visitor’s badge, then tried to calm his racing heart as the phone booth slowly descended. Within minutes, he was through Security and on a lift heading toward the first floor, where the security wizard had told him the Hogwarts Board of Governor’s meeting was being held.

Harry stopped outside the door, working hard to calm down. He looked down at his sweaty, dirty Quidditch practice robes. Why hadn’t he changed? Oh well, he was the Flying Instructor at Hogwarts. At least he looked the part. He took a deep breath, shook out his hands and opened the door without knocking.

The room held a large rectangular table with nine wizards and witches ranged all around it, one of whom was Dumbledore. They all turned to stare at him in shock when he entered the room. He noticed three empty chairs, probably those of the three who’d gone to the stadium to see him. He no sooner thought this than those three men pushed open the door and came into the room, sidling along the wall away from Harry while keeping their eyes on him. They looked a bit green and more than a little nervous. Good! They should be nervous!

"I’m sorry to disrupt your meeting, but those blokes interrupted my Quidditch practice, so I decided interrupting your meeting was only fair." He looked at his grandfather, who gave him a slight smile. "They said you have a problem with my fiancée and I holding hands in the corridors and so on. Is that true?"

Varying looks of discomfort flowed across the faces of the majority of those at the table. Peabody stood up and cleared his throat.

"As we told you, Mr. Potter, your displays of affection for Miss Weasley are inappropriate and unacceptable. You will have a disciplinary hearing March 26, for which Mr. Thistlewood, Mr. Smedley and I served you notice. There was no need for you to come to this meeting today."

Harry was fighting to control his temper. He couldn’t just blow up—he had to be logical and sensible, but right now, he couldn’t find a sensible thought in his head. He’d just have to wing it.

"Yeah, there is a need for me to be here right now. As I told you lot at the stadium, I’m getting married March 26, and nobody’s going to stop me. If you want to have a disciplinary hearing that day, you can damned well have it by yourselves. If you aren’t happy with how I’ve been teaching your children, tell me so and I’ll see what I can do to change my teaching methods. But you lot knew before I took the job that Ginny and I were engaged, and nobody expressed any concerns about that at the time. What changed?"

"You became a teacher at Hogwarts," Smedley said with an expression that looked as if he’d just smelled something rotten.

"So what?"

"So you cannot fraternize with students, Mr. Potter. It just isn’t done," Smedley said in his prissy voice.

Harry looked at Dumbledore. "What’s going on here?"

"There has been a complaint, I’m afraid," Dumbledore said. "I just found out myself or I would have said something."

Harry couldn’t believe it. He knew he was generally well-liked by his students, and he’d gone out of his way to be fair and even-handed with all the Houses in his teaching, when they asked him questions about Quidditch strategies or just when he saw them in the corridors. "Who complained?"

"It doesn’t matter, Harry," Dumbledore began.

"It matters to me."

Dumbledore sighed. "A student complained to a relative, who’s on this board."

"Some girl with a crush on me complains and Ginny and I have to pay the consequences? That’s not fair." Harry looked around the table, wondering if he could see a family resemblance to some of his students.

"Don’t jump to conclusions, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Why not?" Harry demanded, still furious.

"Please excuse us for a moment," Dumbledore told the Board, then touched Harry’s shoulder, trying to turn him toward the door.

Cooperating wasn’t something Harry was interested in right now. He wanted to fight the Board, and he wanted his grandfather to stand beside him in the fight! And now Grandfather wanted Harry to leave? Why? What was going on?

"Please come with me, lad. I need to speak to you, and I’d prefer to do it in private."

Harry grumbled a bit under his breath, but turned and left the room with his grandfather, who led him to an empty office a few doors down the hall.

Dumbledore closed the door behind them, then looked at Harry. "It doesn’t matter who reported it. The fact is, what you were doing was against the rules, rules which I ignored with joyful abandon because I believe, and many agree with me, that you richly deserve any pleasure you can find after what you’ve done for the wizarding world. I’d hoped the Board would see things my way, but they haven’t. Fortunately, there weren’t any complaints until recently. That’s why you have been allowed to do as you wished all this time. But my dear boy, you are a teacher at Hogwarts. If a complaint is lodged, and the Board decides to allow you to continue kissing or holding hands with Miss Weasley," he winked as he said Ginny’s maiden name, "then we’ve set a precedent that subsequent teachers can say should apply to them as well. While you present no threat to the student body because you and Ginny are committed to each other, other teachers might pose more of a danger. Such a precedent could lead to serious problems in the future." He squeezed Harry’s shoulder gently. "I’m so sorry, dear boy. It’s my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have been so lenient with you, but I am entirely too fond of you. I want to give you anything your heart desires, Harry, believe me in this. But this time, I’ll have to agree with the Board. Can you forgive a foolish old man for making a mistake out of love?"

Harry sighed. He knew his grandfather was right in principle, but this was Ginny he was talking about! How could Harry not hold hands with her, touch her, kiss her? They were newlyweds! He fought the anger welling up inside him. No teacher would take advantage of a student, would he? It’s a ridiculous rule! Then he thought of Gilderoy Lockhart and the effect he’d had on the girls in the school, including the normally level-headed Hermione. If there wasn’t a rule defining teacher/student relationships, Lockhart might have taken advantage of some of those girls—even Hermione. Harry sighed again and looked at his grandfather, a sad half-smile on his face. "I don’t have to like it, do I?"

Dumbledore looked relieved. "No, you don’t. But it would be helpful if you accepted the ruling with grace, and behaved accordingly at school."

"Will this have any impact on, um—"

Dumbledore leaned toward him and whispered, "What happens at night is between you, Ginny and Merlin, dear boy. Just don’t get caught!"

Harry smiled then. "OK. I guess I can live with the rule for the few weeks until the wedding. But what about after we’re married at Easter?"

"I’ve fought hard to keep your wedding on schedule," Dumbledore said, "but it’s still an uphill battle."

Harry gasped. "You mean they might not allow it? Ginny will quit school if they make us put it off!"

"I’m aware of that. I’m doing all I can to make things go smoothly."

Harry looked at the aged, careworn face. There was no sign of the twinkle that normally sparkled in his grandfather’s eyes. Now that Harry’s temper had abated somewhat, he could see this battle was a real burden to his grandfather. "Thank you, Grandfather. I didn’t mean to cause you so much trouble. I’ll resign my post. That will solve all the problems."

"No, no, I don’t want you to do that! Where will I find a competent Flying Instructor this late in the school year? And your students are so pleased with their progress, as am I! You’re a fine teacher, Harry, and a simply magnificent flyer. I can’t replace you. The students will suffer greatly if you leave."

Harry shook his head. He’d thought resigning was the best option, but he understood his grandfather’s points, as well. "Then what should I do?"

"Come back into the meeting with me and just be yourself, lad. You have wonderful judgement when your temper’s under control, as it seems to be now. Stay in the meeting and listen. If you feel you can contribute something, go ahead."

"OK."

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