Easy Mistake ; Harry Potter

SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER

Harry Potter sighed. He glanced at the clock in his office, it read; 8:42. He should've been home hours ago but found he was held down by the trumendous amount of homework he had to finish marking for his students.

He taught Defence Against the Dark Arts and while he loved teaching, (he realized he had a love for teaching back when he was in his fifth year at Hogwarts) he failed to comprehend just how much marking he would have to do when he applied for the job.

Even though Harry had once been a student at the very school he was teaching at, and had even witnessed the amount of work the Professors had to mark, (he had often complained about all the homework he had been given when he was a student) he still didn't think of how much he would actually have to sit through and mark.

Still, although Harry hated paperwork, he found this tedious job of marking homework more enjoyable than when he had been the one completing the homework. When Harry read through his students work, it took him back to when he was at Hogwarts, writing down the same things, trying to remember as much as he could in order to write the required amount his teachers had asked of him.

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he finished reading through Edward Hopkins work. Harry marked it with a P (Poor). Although Edward had obviously tried very hard, he had gotten several points wrong throughout his essay about Werewolves and therefore Harry couldn't find any excuse to give him a higher mark. Harry did remember Edward though and his wand work did made up for his poor knowledge on Werewolves and generally any written work that was given to the boy.

With that, Harry decided to call it a night. He would have to finish marking the rest of the papers tomorrow.

Harry yawned as he put his cloak back on and started packing away his belongings into his bag. He really needed to get back home, it was getting rather late.

McGonagall and Harry had come to the compromise that Harry would be allowed to go home every evening as long as he arrived on time each morning to teach his lessons.

Professors at Hogwarts normally stayed at Hogwarts all year round but Harry had talked to Headmistress McGonagall before he took on the role of the DADA teacher and thankfully McGonagall agreed to allow him to leave each evening. As much as Harry adored Hogwarts, it was still hard to walk down the corridors sometimes as he still remembered the horrific things that had happened 15 years prior.

There had been a war. A war in which Lord Voldemort had started. A war in which Harry had won, though it had ended with many casualties that Harry still grieved about to this day.

Harry took one last look around his office to check he had everything (he had to run back to his desk after noticing he had left his wand.) He then walked over to the fire place in his office and picked up some Floo Powder which he threw into the empty grate. Emerald flames burst to life and Harry stepped into them, liking the way they tickled pleasantly against his skin. "Number 7, Carnaby street, London!"

Suddenly Harry was spinning and spinning. He tucked his elbows tighter to his side and shut his eyes, the bright green flames doing nothing to ease the headache he could feel coming on.

Just as Harry was starting to feel dizzy, he felt himself begin to slow down and finally stepped out of the flames. He landed slightly ungracefully and tripped out of the fireplace.

Harry took a deep breath, glad to be home. Harry had contemplated for a long while where he should live after the war had ended and he had finished his last year at Hogwarts.

At first he wanted to be close to where Remus and Sirius lived which was a cute little seaside town near Devon which suited the couple nicely as Harry couldn't think of two people who deserved the peace and quiet more than them.