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...Chapter Two...

Only Tomorrow

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It was completely dark all around him. Pitch black. Death black. Quiet and eerie. Harry tried to make out the shape of Tonks, where he knew she stood next to him, but not even an outline was recognizable in the nightmarish light. All they could do was wait. Harry knelt on the damp ground, taking a moment to calm himself. His breath hung in rising spirals of steam.

That was when the screaming started.

The piercing, heart pumping wails of a draining human life, already given in to defeat. To death.

No-one ever really appreciated the risks Severus Snape ran each waking moment, the thin paths he crossed and the courage it took to do so. The lives he saved and the hated, prejudice branding he was rewarded with. Certainly, Harry Potter would always hate him - there was no going back on that. But somehow Voldemort knew he was the leak, and there was nothing anyone could do.

Harry never saw Severus die. Truth be told, no matter to his allegiance, Harry did not particularly care.

But he heard him. And he remembered.

Every time he closed his eyes.

... ... ... ...

He awoke, sweat soaked and panicked, to a room he didn't know and yet another unfamiliar ceiling - this had always been a reoccurring event in Harry's life, and one he had never fancied. With a jolt Harry realized Cho was lying in his arms and he quietly got up, disentangling their bodies. A glance at the watermelon green and pink colored alarm clock told him it was four o'clock in the morning.

Harry had always had problems sleeping. The muggles would have called it insomnia, but the nightmares ran far deeper than that. They were real. They had happened.

Picking up his clothes from the floor Harry turned back for a moment, admiring Cho a last time. There was the briefest shadow of a smile on his face as he apparated back to his room in the Leaky Cauldron, Severus Snape temporarily forgotten.

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Harry criticised his work at transfiguring the bar of soap into a trunk. Sure, the only possessions he currently owned were five borrowed library books, a two day old newspaper, the key to his Gringotts account and the tatty, blood soaked robes he had worn from his old life. But he still needed a trunk, it wouldn't do for him to show up to his new job with nothing other than the clothes on his back. There wasn't even the need to put a feather light charm on the soap scented luggage.

With a thanks to Tom at the bar, Harry held tight to the trunk and apparated for the second time that morning, arriving with a crack to the front gates of Hogwarts.

He hadn't reckoned on the rush of emotions that overtook him then as Harry looked up at the castle and across the grounds; nostalgia, remorse and the enlightened burning for revenge. He was reminded guiltily of the reasons behind his travel - to right the wrongs of the world, to save the ones he loved and the ones that he didn't. The best and worst times of his life had been experienced here, in this castle. But again Harry postponed dealing with the pushing memories, reasoning that now was not the best time to relive the final battle. Not yet.

Levitating his trunk to float behind him, Harry walked quickly past the closed Quidditch pitch, around the lake and up the front steps into the Entrance Hall. He paused there a moment, looking at the four giant hour-glasses. Slytherin was in the lead, as Harry was all too familiar with, Ravenclaw came a close second and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff battled it out for third. Harry sniggered. He'd make it a high priority to help his old team out now, for the first time ever having the privilege to dish out and take away house points. He couldn't wait to see Malfoys' face.

A crack sounded to his right and Harry spun around, staring down at a house elf, tennis-ball eyes goggling up at him in wonder. "Master Dumbledore," the elf trembled, "asks me to direct new master -Master Evans- to the staff room." He tugged uncertainly on his rag-clothes. "You is Master Evans, Sir?"

Harry smiled, yet determined not to think of Hermione. It was just another stupid house elf. "Yes, that's me."

"I'is will take you to staff room," the house elf turned away.

"No," Harry put his trunk back on the ground with a flick of his wand, "I can find my own way there, thankyou."

The house elf looked displeased, obviously not wanting to discredit his Master Dumbledore.

Harry pushed his trunk forward, creating a new task for the elf. "Would you take this luggage to my new quarters?"

"Yes, of course Master Evans - "

"Thanks," Harry interrupted. He gave the house elf another smile, striding past the Great Hall and down the corridor.

A last pop behind him told Harry the elf was serving his request.

Harry stopped again when he came to the staircase that would lead up to the Gryffindor common room and the first bout of nerves washed over. What on earth was he doing here? How could he possibly be qualified to teach (no matter how basic the subject) when he hadn't even finished his last year of schooling?

Give Harry a Dark Lord any day, but when it came to Divination he was worse than clueless. How was it he always found himself in these impossible situations? Alright, Harry reasoned, so he needed the money. And he had no idea what to do with himself and his normal new life - the position had seemed a good way he could innocently be introduced to his old friends. But he hadn't needed to be so drastic as to declare himself a Professor! All resolve trickled away as Harry continued on his path, far too quickly finding himself in front of a very intimidating staffroom door.

The faint chatter echoed through the hallway and Harry took a last moment to put his confident mask on. He couldn't exactly back out now! Harry did after all have the upper hand here too; no-one knew that he was full of crap and they never needed to. He would show them a talented, self-assured young man and they need not ever be the wiser.

Before he could chicken out Harry turned the cold brass knob, swinging the door open. The chatter stopped around the large panelled room, the familiar teachers seated in the dark wooden chairs surrounding the walls.

"Ah, Mr Evans!" Dumbledore smiled encouragingly, seeing straight through Harry's air. "Please, have a seat."

Harry smiled back at the Headmaster, closing the door behind him. As he turned the frail figure of Remus Lupin caught his eye. So, his fathers friend was teaching at Hogwarts too. Thank Merlin, Harry thought, or else he might be spending the rest of the year with only Snape and McGonagall to talk to - and neither were precisely chatty material.

Harry took a seat next to Hagrid (stubbornly closing his mind to all reminiscent thoughts) and Albus began introducing him, for the first time, to teachers Harry had known well for the past eight years.

Harry smiled at each in turn, especially as Remus was declared Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. At the very least Harry's friends in this world could be better prepared than in his.

Dumbledore finished and they continued the staff meeting. "As I'm sure you've all heard, there have been several attacks during the holiday break." Albus sighed, dejected. "Both the Patil and Greensgrove children have been orphaned. Now more than ever before, the students will need our protection and support. They need to know that Hogwarts is still the safest place to be.

"Which brings us to the Sorting Hats continued warnings," Dumbledore looked at Harry, explaining. "As the first year students have been sorted the last few years we have been repeatedly told, by the hat, of the importance to unite the four houses."

Harry nodded in understanding. Of course, he remembered that from his fifth year.

"I've had an idea," said Madam Hooch, perking up in her seat. "Many of the younger students might be influenced by our own interaction. They often look to their Heads of Houses much like second parents - "

"You're point is?" Severus snapped loudly, obviously not liking where her speech was headed.

Madam Hooch ignored him, continuing, "I thought it might be nice to have a staff Quidditch match. To show the student body how great we can all get along!"

She was met by a thick, oppressed silence. "What do you think, Hadi?" Obviously Hooch thought she could get support from the fresh meat, being too new to not agree.

"Er..." Harry began, honestly not knowing what the hell to think of this idea. A staff Quidditch match?.. He supposed it could work - it certainly might give him the chance to get on a broom again, in front of an appreciative crowd.

"Can you See it happening?" Snape asked, his sneer as nasty as he could master - which was damn well horrid.

Harry folded his arms, glaring at his old Potions Professor. "Sure. If you really want to, I believe you can make anything happen."

"How diplomatic." It seemed Snape would always be out to get him, this time merely for being the Divination Professor.

Harry drew in a deep breath, raking his brain for anything to add. "At my old school there was a duelling club for a while, taught by the Defence department. If you're looking for ways to combine the houses, that could be a start."

"I could certainly organise it," Remus said thoughtfully.

"Great," Dumbledore smiled. "Anything else?"

Again, the teachers were silent.

"So, we come to our final matter," Albus leaned forward in his chair, long fingers entwined on his knee. "Hogwarts may very well be Voldemorts'," he paused for the flinches to subside, "next place of attack. In case such an occurrence does happen, Merlin forbid it should, we must be prepared. Our first priority is of course the children, who in the case of any danger should be brought straight to the Great Hall. To signal that an attack is taking place, you must do this - "

Dumbledore held his wand in the air to demonstrate. "Alarmiousa."

Instantly a very loud siren went off, Harry presuming in every room of the castle.

"Finicio."

The siren stopped and McGonagall removed her hands from where they had been clasped firmly over her ears.

"When that alarm goes off it is our signal to make your way to the hall, where we will effectively defend and fight. The Prefects of each house will be briefed on these directions and will then pass it on to the other students."

Albus ended the depressing silence that had befallen the staff with his usual tightlipped smile. "But of course, we will pray that this siren may never deafen our poor ears again. And unless anyone has anything to add, I'm sure you all have many things to do."

Slowly the staff got up and departed, the last dregs of tea finished.

"Now, shall we call a house elf to show you to your rooms?" Dumbledore turned to Harry. "It's quite easy to get lost in the castle, although I'm sure you'll get used to it in good time."

"No, it's alright." Harry stood, heading to the door. He could barely controlled the snigger as he added, specifically turning to Snape, "I know the way."

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"Three galleons says we find him tomorrow in the Astronomy tower."

"Now Severus," Remus snickered, "I didn't put you as one to discredit the power of Divination."

Minerva snorted.

The last remaining teachers; McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, Flitwick and Dumbledore finally had the staffroom to themselves.

"I quite liked him," Professor Flitwick piped up.

"He's too young. The students will walk all over him," Minerva sighed, pouring herself another cup of tea.

"I don't know about that," Remus pondered, "I'll bet he can be frightening when he wishes. Power was simply oozing off him - I could smell it like honey."

"The girls will be delighted anyhow," Albus chuckled.

Snape slouched back in his chair, hands resting in his lap. "I don't like him. And I get the distinct impression he is in far over his head."

"Let's not be too quick to judge," Albus gave the potions professor a hard stare. "Moody has yet to get back to me."

"He looks a lot like James, doesn't he?" Remus grinned at Severus. "Perhaps they're of relation."

"All the more reason to hate him."

Minerva cleared her throat, drawing the conversation away from the touchy topic of James Potter. "Do you think he's neutral?"

This query was met with silence. Obviously, they would have to wait for Moody's report to be completely sure, but first impressions always count. No matter how nice 'don't judge a book by its cover' may sound, it is inevitable in human nature.

"Hard to say," Dumbledore concluded. "We must be wary of him I'm afraid."

"And if possible," Flitwick added, "draw him to the Light. With such power he would be a great asset."

"And an asset is exactly what we need," Albus sighed. "But he is hiding something, hiding everything even, and I'm unable to break through his barriers."

"As was I," Severus gave his worst and most infamous sneer. "I wouldn't trust the boy as far as I could kick him."

"Not that we'll be kicking anyone anywhere," Remus smiled. "I wonder if he is a Seer though - "

"I doubt it."

"Oh Minerva." There was a twinkle in Albus' eye. "I suppose we can only find out."

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Harry made his way to the North Tower, panting from the climb up and the narrow spiral staircase that still made him dizzy. His ribs hurt and his eyes stung - Harry felt like shit. It was no wonder Trelawney had hardly ever eaten or mingled with any other occupants of the castle, the journey down was just ridiculously too far, even with all Harry's shortcuts. Harry grinned at the thought - had it been made so on purpose?

Sure enough the old classroom was just as Harry knew it: circular tables, pouffes, chintz armchairs and all. It seemed the last professor hadn't bothered to change anything. Maybe she had known she wasn't long for the world and didn't see the point? Harry sniggered.

The dark red scarves draped dramatically over the lamps would be the first things to go.

Harry rolled his shoulders before withdrawing his wand, a grim smile tugging his lips.

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He was exhausted by the time he made his way up another tiny staircase to his quarters, barely squeezing his shoulders through the narrow width, the final level above the classroom revealed by a bright green cracked door.

The bedroom was simple, comfortably furnished in a similar style as his room in the Gryffindor boys dormitory had been, much as the unsuit bathroom was. The view however, was spectacular.

Being a tower, the main room was somewhat circular with many windows looking over all directions of the Hogwarts grounds. Harry could see Hagrids' hut near the forbidden forest, the great lake and there was a brilliant view of the Quidditch stadium - you would easily be able to watch a match from here.

In fact, Harry pondered, it really wouldn't be that hard at all to simply forget about the world and never venture from his tower. Certainly, it wouldn't be worth the walk to go down and back up for lunch every day.

On the large oak desk opposite the four-poster bed was a timetable of Harry's classes.

He felt jittery at that. The only experiences Harry had with teaching was the DA in fifth year. And what a disaster that had turned out to be! He thought of Cho again and couldn't help but smile. Perhaps he should owl her, especially after just leaving like he did...

Looking back at the timetable he saw only one class of each grade, going from third to seventh years. It seemed many people in this world had given up on Divination and Harry remembered that Dumbledore had been planning to drop the subject.

Knowing Harry's luck he would be left with the laziest students who only wanted a bludge subject, their single talent lying in making things up as he and Ron used to.

Well, Harry sighed, only tomorrow would tell.

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