Cheers, Potter.

Here we come.

Harry's POV

"Do you have everything you need, Potter?" my favourite teacher fussed over me, "lesson plans, resources?"

"Thank you, Professor, I'm okay," I did my best to reassure her, she seemed more nervous than I had initially felt, but seeing someone as fearless as Minerva McGonagall on-edge made me feel like I was going off to steal from a dragon all over again.

"Well, if you need anything at all I'll be around," she began to leave for the fourth time this morning but turned to look at me again, she wouldn't admit that she was worried for me – I loved her all the more for it.

"I know, Professor, it's fine, I'm fine," I wasn't sure if I was convincing her or myself, "I've got this."

"Just remember, you are the professor now. If there's something you don't want to discuss, something irrelevant or... well, there's no need to discuss anything you don't want to."

"I know, thank you," I said grasping her shoulders, something I never would have had the courage to do were she not reminding me so much of Mrs Weasley in that moment.

She held one hand on each side of my face, "I am very proud of you, Potter," she said ingenuously. It felt like a sucker-punch to the gut – in the way that only those words from someone you admire and love can do. I needed to hear it, especially from her; my mentor, my role model, my hero really. She had championed me all the way through my life and she was still doing that now, Professor McGonagall was who I needed in that moment and as ever, she was right here.

"Now," she let go of me and straightened her robes, "Professor Slughorn is leading the new first years to the Great Hall, we mustn't be late."

She guided me into the Hall via a door that I'd never really noticed was there. There were two, one on the far left of the room and one on the right, just behind the teachers table. I could have sworn I caught a little gimpse of a smug smile at the corner of her mouth. It felt peculiar but somehow very right that I was here, at this table and I couldn't help but lift my head in pride.

I spotted Neville, looking as brain-addled as I felt, so naturally I gravitated towards him, seeking comfort in a familiar face.

"Hey," I began, not really knowing if as Professors we were supposed to chat.

"Hi Harry," his voice betrayed his nerves, "how are you feeling?"

"Absolutely terrified, you?"

"About the same," he nodded, not making eye contact, "we'll be fine though, won't we?"

"Yeah," I responded with false confidence as I watched more and more students flood into the Hall awaiting the Sorting Ceremony. I spotted Constance at the same time as she spotted me, so I gave her a small wave, not wanting to draw much attention, a futile act since her returned wave was extravagant and unhindered and entirely shattered my hope for not being noticed for as long as possible. The Slytherins around her had lifted their heads to see the fuss she was making and by extension saw me. They whispered to their friends, and their friends, and their friends and very soon I was inundated with stares, grins, glowers, and star-struck eyes.

"Don't worry," Neville comforted from my shoulder, "once you set the homework, the novelty will wear off," Merlin bless this guy.

I sighed, grinned, and hoped that was true.

~Ж~

My first class was for second years, a class that Connie was in. That could only be good, surely... or very very bad. I would have to wait and see.

"Okay," I started, hushing the conversations that had been buzzing around the room when they saw that I'd be their teacher, even though I'd already been introduced at the feast. It felt odd to have them actually settle down at my word. After being in the opposite position for so long I felt like an imposter. It'll wear off. I'm sure it'll wear off.