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Father's Day by tiredone
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Father's Day

tiredone

Title: Father's Day

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: JKR owns this

Author's Notes: First I'd like to clarify just a couple of things. The raven-haired girl is not Harry's and Hermione's. I just threw that in there because I thought it would be ironically funny that Artie would hook up with two people who reminded Harry of the trio. I can not honestly say how many chapters I have left. This story is somewhat still in development, though I can place a tentative count of at least 8 more chapters. This number could change depending on how the next few chapters proceed. I won't really know until they're written. As soon as I get a better estimate, I'll tell you. Thank you for all the reviews. Enjoy.

Chapter 5: Mistakes and Consequences

Harry Potter rubbed his temples, fighting the beginnings of a migraine that threatened to ruin his already terrible day. Wearily, he looked at the redheaded boy standing across from him, behind the desk, and tried to find his calm center.

"This is the fifth time in as many weeks that you have failed to turn in your homework assignment, Artie," Harry said cautiously. "What is your excuse this time?"

The younger boy shrugged, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "Professor Snape gave us loads of homework because Todd messed up his potions assignment," Artie said, looking at Harry seriously. Harry could not determine whether the innocent expression on his face meant that Artie was telling the truth, or if he was an extremely gifted liar. Instead, it was his brain that had to make that decision.

"Third time you've used that excuse," Harry said, trying to keep the anger in his voice under control. He'd been teaching at Hogwarts for a little over a month. In that time Artie had managed to consistently arrive at class five minutes late, made a habit of missing his assignments, and had been caught reading magazines at least twice. At first, Harry had tried to be understanding. His father, after all, had just died, and he knew Artie had been receiving a hard time about being a student at the same school his guardian taught at. But he was quickly running out of patience. Even worse, a few other Gryffindor boys had picked up on Harry's reluctance to take points from his former House, and had started following Artie's lead.

"Try again." Harry said, fighting his urge to throttle the freckles off the boy's face.

Artie sighed, turning his head from Harry's scrutiny. His lower lip began to quiver and when he returned his eyes to Harry, they were a bit brighter.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I really am. I just … I've had such a hard time sleeping after my dad died and I just fell asleep after Snape's assignment," he said, his voice trembling a bit. Harry closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Guilt washed over him, intertwined with anger. He couldn't very well punish Artie for having a difficult time at school after Ron died. At the same time Harry sorely resented the feeling that he was being manipulated.

"Okay, Artie," he said, a deflated feeling rushing over his body. "But this is the last time, okay?" Artie had already had three such last time's to work with, and Harry had the strangest feeling this would not be the end of this topic.

Artie nodded, a smile crossing his face. "Thanks, Harry." Harry let out a sigh.

"That's Professor Potter when we're talking about school business, okay?" he said wearily as Artie was running out the door. He never got a response.

Harry slumped back in his chair, closing his eyes. Professor Potter, indeed. He was becoming the biggest joke at Hogwarts since Gilderoy Lockhart, and he felt absolutely helpless to prevent it.

He hadn't expected to have an easy time making the transition from an Auror to a teacher. For one thing, being an Auror was often a solitary job. These days he was surrounded by people - children mainly - all wanting to know about his scar or his days as a seeker or Lord Voldemort. The older ones were a bit better - with them he was at least able to get some work done. But he felt powerless over the first year Gryffindors.

It might have been just a bit better if he felt like he had someone to talk to, but Hermione was still being cold towards him, and Ginny hadn't been around to give flying lessons because of the poor weather. He didn't even think about asking Snape for advice.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up, relief flooding his body as Ginny Weasley walked in, a broom tucked under her right arm. Her red-gold hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and her light blue eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Another rough day?" she asked with a smile.

"You have no idea."

"I've got something that I think you might enjoy."

The former Auror allowed his head to perk up at that pronouncement. Anything would be better than staying cooped up in the classroom.

"Today I finally get to teach the first years to fly. Would you like to come down and watch. You can even bring your broom, if you want."

Harry's eyes lit up. It had been so long since he'd been on a broom, he wondered if he'd even be able to handle it. But Ginny's offer was too good to refuse. And he wouldn't mind seeing Artie in action. He was pretty sure Ron would have put him on a broom as soon as he could walk, even if he claimed he didn't like flying.

"Sounds great," Harry said, finally feeling a bit of happiness surge through his body.

"Good then, I'll see you there," Ginny said, giving him a wink. "Two o'clock by the Quidditch Pitch. Don't be late."

At exactly 1:45 p.m., Harry Potter began making his way out to the Quidditch pitch, his Firebolt tucked under his right arm. Excitement bubbled through his veins as he thought about the wind whipping around his face as he soared in the sky. The good mood didn't last long.

"So it's true then, is it?" an all-too-familiar voice piped up, drawing Harry out of his joyful reverie. "The famous Harry Potter has come back to Hogwarts."

The raven-haired wizard turned, his gaze settling on the steely, grey-eyed figure that sauntered towards him.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry said, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice. "What are you doing at Hogwarts?"

"I'm on the Board of Governors, scarface," Draco said with a sneer. His shoulder-length blonde-hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and in his right hand he held his broom. Harry could see that it was at least two models newer than his, but he refused to let the irritation show on his face. "And my wife works here. The only reason you're here is because everyone qualified to take your position was busy."

Harry felt the anger bubbling in his body, but he suppressed the urge to draw his wand and hex his former classmate. Instead, he asked, "Does Ginny know you're here?"

"Thought I'd surprise her," Draco said, sniffing as he looked over Harry's broom. "A Firebolt? I thought the last of those had been sold to a museum."

"Antique or not, Malfoy, I can still outride you." Harry said hotly.

Draco's eyes twinkled. "Is that so, Potter? Want to have a bit of a run at it, then? You and me?"

Harry frowned. He wasn't how good it would look for a Hogwarts teacher to be going head to head with an old enemy. Ginny would not like it at all. He glanced over his shoulder. So far, none of the first years had come out. If he hurried, he could be back on the ground before anyone knew what happened. Harry looked at Draco, his emerald gaze narrowed, and nodded.

"Excellent," Draco said, his steely eyes glinting. "Then where shall we start?" He looked off into the distance, squinting against the sun. "Alright, to the end of the Quidditch pitch, in between the goalposts, then loop twice around the Whomping willow, straight up the astronomy tower, and straight down again and back here," he said, turning to see Harry's expression. "Unless you think that relic you're flying can't handle that."

Harry's eyes narrowed, shoving the thoughts of circling the Whomping willow out of his mind. "You're on, Malfoy."

"Alright then," Malfoy said, settling onto his broom and angling its nose towards the other end of the Quidditch Pitch. Harry followed suit. "On the count of three. One … Two …"

Before Malfoy could say three, he took off. Harry muttered a curse and quickly shot into the air, angling the nose of his broom towards Malfoy's tail. I should have expected the smarmy git to cheat, Harry thought to himself as he flattened his torso against the handle of his broom, trying to cut down on his wind resistance as they moved into the turn. He was still a good three meters behind Malfoy when the former Slytherin began taking his broom wide in a nice, looping turn so as to approach the goalposts in a straight line. Harry's eyes narrowed as he cut to Malfoy's inside. He wouldn't be completely straight as he wound his way through the hoops that marked one end of the pitch, but he'd shave a few seconds off his time and close the gap on Draco.

Malfoy deftly swing his broom around the first post, cutting each turn with pinpoint precision as he wove his way through the three posts. If Harry hadn't been so focused on keeping his life, he might have allowed himself a chance to envy the broom Malfoy was riding. As it was, he forced himself to concentrate as he wound his way through the first two goalposts, wincing when the tail of his broom about nicked the post. Throwing all his weight into the next turn, Harry cut sharply to the right, weaving between the second and third posts at such a tight turn that he felt himself grow light headed. Soon enough he had passed the first obstacle and had closed the gap on the tail of Malfoy's broom to two meters.

Harry's inhaled sharply as he set his sights on their next target - the ever-deadly Whomping Willow. He'd had one too many close encounters with that tree, from his second year, when he and Ron had driven his father's flying car into its branches, to his third year, when his Nimbus 2000 had been rendered to a pile of splinters.

Draco looked over his left shoulder, grinning gleefully as he arched his broomstick down towards the branches of the dangerous tree. "Had enough yet, Potter?"

With that, Draco took his broom through a deadly loop of two of its longest branches, ducking as a third sailed over his head. Harry felt the anger surge through his body as he quickly moved turned on his side, bringing the nose of his Firebolt through a gap in the branches so small Harry felt his hair hitting the bark as he passed it. A smaller branch smacked against his cheek, opening a fresh gash, but Harry forced himself to think beyond the stinging as he wound his way underneath the last moving branch. When he finally cleared the second obstacle, he was only a meter behind Malfoy.

Encouraged, Harry flattened himself against the broom as he and Malfoy began approaching the Astronomy tower. Slowly, Harry began to inch closer on Draco's tail, jerking the nose of his broom straight up as the two shot towards the sky at lightning speed. Harry was pleased to hear Draco's heavy breathing as the two pulled neck and neck. Then, less than a second later they reached the top of the tower and Harry inverted his broom so sharply he actually thought he would fall off. Draco fell behind by a foot. Grinning maliciously, Harry snapped the nose of his Firebolt towards the starting point by the Quidditch pitch, everything fading away as he focused on the circular hoops that marked the finishing line.

Draco pulled even, and giving Harry a foul look he promptly jerked his broom to the side, trying to bump Harry off course. Harry hissed in anger, trying to shove Draco off his broom as the two wizards raced towards the finish line, neck in neck.

It was impossible to tell who had crossed first, for at exactly the same time they reached the goalposts, Harry caught sight of the first years, including Artie, staring up at him and Draco in awe. Ginny's lips were pressed into a thin line, and her eyes were brimming with angry tears.

Harry quickly pulled back on his Firebolt, slowly lowering to the ground, his face reddening in shame as he realized what kind of display he had put on for the young students. He quickly glanced at Ginny apologetically, but she looked away, focusing her gaze on Draco, who had a triumphant smirk on his face as he walked towards the group.

His heart sank even further when he noticed McGonagall was hurriedly approaching the Quidditch Pitch, the expression on her face one of severity and disappointment.

"Mr. Potter, I would like to see you in my office," she said quickly, drawing a group of 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the first years. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Harry nodded and followed the angry Headmistress back towards Hogwarts.

* * *

"What on earth were you thinking, Mr. Potter?" Minerva McGonagall's shrill voice cut through the serenity of her office. Harry wished he could sink into the chair he was sitting and disappear from sight.

"I wasn't, Professor," Harry said glumly, his gaze leveled on the floor.

"You most certainly were not," McGonagall said sharply. "We're trying to teach the younger children the etiquette and proper broom safety, and you undermined your coworker by engaging in a barbaric display of egotism with one of the school governors!"

Harry sank lower into his chair. His mind flickered back to the look of awe on Artie's face. What kind of example had he set for the younger boy, agreeing to race Draco like that?

"You're right, it was wrong of me, and I take full responsibility for what happened," Harry said, forcing himself to meet the Headmistress's steely gaze. If she was surprised, she didn't give any sign. Harry continued, "I am ashamed that I acted that way, and I fully understand if you choose to relieve me of my position."

"Believe me, Mr. Potter, if that were an option, your job would be in jeopardy," Minerva said, leaning back into her chair. "But Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers are hard to come by, and I do not have the luxury of finding a replacement at this time." She lifted a finger towards Harry and pointed coldly, "Consider yourself on probation, Mr. Potter. Another infraction like that and you will no longer be teaching at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, rising to his feet and excusing himself from her chambers. He made his way towards the spiraling phoenix staircase, fighting the anger and despair that seemed to overwhelm his body.

"There you are," a curt voice called out to him the second he reached the main floor. Harry's gaze snapped up to meet Hermione's. She was standing about a meter away, her arms crossed in front of her body and with a decidedly stern expression on his face. Harry closed his eyes, thinking that he'd rather face Aragog in the Forbidden Forest than listen to another lecture on his irresponsible behavior.

"Look, Hermione," Harry said crossly. "I've already gotten it from McGonagall. I don't need to hear it from you too. I'm a terrible teacher, a terrible guardian, and a terrible friend, and the only reason I'm not scraping gillyweed off the floor of the Forbidden Forest is because McGonagall doesn't have anyone else to teach my class," he snapped, his eyes brimming with angry tears. "Now does that about cover it or do you want to add further insult to injury? I'm sure there's still a few names I've yet to be called."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, her eyes flashing with some undeterminable emotion, then she sighed and shook her head lightly. Beckoning Harry to follow her, she led the raven-haired wizard down the corridor, past crowds of staring students, and into her private office.

"Sit down, Harry," Hermione said, her voice weary as she made her way behind her desk. Harry slumped down into the chair dejectedly, wondering how long it would take Remus to draft the custody transfer forms so he could return to being an Auror.

"What's going on, Harry?"

Harry looked up in surprise, his gaze falling on Hermione's. She was studying him, concern evident in her mahogany gaze. For a second Harry was tempted to snap out that it should have been obvious what was wrong, but he caught himself and exhaled slowly. Sighing, he began explaining to Hermione the events of the past five weeks - how Artie had consistently been late to class and how the other Gryffindors had started to follow suit; how Draco had egged him on about the broom and how badly he felt about disappointing Ginny; about how inadequate he felt as Artie's guardian and how Ron had made a big mistake; and about bad it had felt to lose Ron and how much worse it hurt to lose her when he knew he deserved what he got and hated himself for it.

Hermione listened to this without interjecting a single word, and when Harry had finished his rambling she leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly.

"Well, as far as your troubles with the Gryffindors, you need to remember that you're their teacher, Harry," she said softly. "Not their friend. If they fail to turn in an assignment, you need to discipline them. Otherwise they'll never learn responsible behavior."

Harry nodded wearily, exhaustion creeping in behind his eyes.

"As far as Artie is concerned, I'm surprised you haven't seen it before."

"Seen what?"

"Harry, he's been taking advantage of you," Hermione said, exasperated. "He's been playing on the guilt you feel about Ron's death to manipulate yourself into feeling sorry for him."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Artie was plenty upset at Ron's death."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "Of course he was Harry, but he's been taking his anger at Ron out on you. And you've been letting him."

"Anger … Ron … Me?" Harry shook his head furiously. "What on earth are you talking about?"

The mahogany-haired witch leaned back in her seat, shaking her head slowly. "Oh Harry, isn't it obvious? Artie is angry at his father for leaving him. You are now the closest thing he has to a father-figure, so he's taking his anger out on you. And you, seeing how much Artie reminds you of Ron, have been walking on eggshells around him because you feel guilty about not visiting Ron."

Harry sighed, slumping back into his chair. Somehow, Hermione had seemed to cut to the heart of the situation in a matter of moments. The former Auror closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I should have never agreed to be his guardian."

"Nonsense, Harry," Hermione said forcefully, drawing a surprised stare from Harry. "Ron chose you because he thought you'd make the best guardian for his son. I didn't understand it fully at first, but I think I do now. You just have to start believing that you can do this."

Harry nodded weakly, and the two sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. Eventually, Hermione broke the quiet.

"As far as Ginny is concerned, I don't deny she's furious. But I think she's angrier with Draco than she is with you. That is something you will have to work out with her."

He nodded, making a mental note to apologize to Ginny as soon as possible. He allowed his stare to fall on Hermione for a brief moment.

"And what about us?" Harry asked quietly. Hermione closed her eyes, sighing deeply as she leaned back in her chair.

"I … I still need time, Harry," she said softly, her words chosen with great deliberation. "What you did … it hurt, Harry. And … I still can't forgive you for it. Not yet."

Harry nodded, forcing back the tears that seemed to build behind his eyes as he slowly pushed to his feet. He gave his former friend a slight nod, heading out the door alone. The door closed behind him and Harry Potter leaned his back against the outside wall, trying to stifle his tears.

Inside the room, there was the faintest sound of sobbing.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Harry made his way reluctantly to Ginny's office. He owed the youngest Weasley an apology for his behavior, and while he wasn't looking forward to facing the consequences of his actions, he knew that he'd rather get it done sooner than later.

He came to a stop outside Ginny's door, halting at the sound of raised voices that were arguing inside.

"…undermining everything I've been trying to work for! All for a stupid grudge of yours that's ten years old!"

"Gin, I already said I'm sorry. What more do you want from me?"

"How about to act like you're really sorry? Don't you realize what I gave up for you?"

"Not this again. I gave up just as much as you did, maybe more. If you miss your family so much maybe you should just go back to them and forget about me - obviously it's what you want!"

The sound of a slap, followed by a yelp that could have only been Draco's, caused Harry to jump.

"How dare you?" Ginny said, between sobs. "I've given you everything I've had for the past five years. I defended you when all they did wanted was to put you away. How dare you cheapen that!"

There were a few muffled sounds behind the door, but Harry couldn't determine what was being said. Suddenly Draco's voice cut through the sound of Ginny's sobs.

"Shh," his hoarse whisper was faintly audible to Harry's ears. "I'm sorry, Gin. Please don't cry."

Ginny mumbled something unintelligible. Harry strained his ear towards the door, trying to hear what was being said.

"Shh… it's okay, Gin. We'll make it. We've made it this far, haven't we? Someday they'll have to listen."

Harry drew back, feeling guilty for listening in on a quarrel between the young lovers. He shook his head. Old habits die hard in Aurors, he thought to himself. Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps caused Harry's eyes to widen and he jumped away from the door, looking around hurriedly before ducking around a corner and trying to hide behind a suit of armor.

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the room, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear and straightening his otherwise ruffled cloak. Inhaling deeply, he set off down the hall. Harry forced himself to remain against the wall until Draco disappeared from sight, then slowly he stepped from behind the suit of armor. For a moment he wondered if he should return later, but curiosity seemed to take precedence and slowly Harry made his way to Ginny's office door. Hesitating for only a brief moment outside, he gave three slight raps on the wooden barrier.

"Come in."

Harry slowly stepped inside the office, his gaze falling upon Ginny's. Her eyes were reddened and puffy from tears, and she was hurriedly pulling her red-gold hair back into a ponytail. She flinched when she saw Harry walk in.

Before she could speak, Harry lifted a hand and hurriedly interrupted, "Ginny, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. You were trying to do me a favor by inviting me to your Flying class, and I allowed myself to behave like an ape. You have every right to be angry at me and I accept responsibility for what happened. I just hope you'll be able to forgive me, someday."

Ginny remained silent, staring at Harry with an emotionless face. Harry didn't realize he was holding his breath until Ginny gave a slight nod.

"Do it again, Harry, and I'll hex you so badly you'll be eating through your trousers for a week."

Harry grimaced, then forced a smile, slowly approaching the desk and resting a hand lightly on Ginny's shoulder. The younger woman flinched momentarily, but eventually a small smile came to her face and she rested a hand on Harry's.

"Are you alright, Ginny?" Harry asked softly, his emerald gaze filled with concern. Ginny stared at him, confusedly, before nodding.

"What do you mean?"

"I just … he didn't hurt you … I mean, … did he?"

Ginny's eyes widened and she jerked back from Harry's hand as if it were a live snake. "No!" She said quickly, causing Harry to jump back, startled. Harry felt a flush cross his face.

"Okay, I … I just wanted to make sure."

Ginny sighed, leaning back in her seat. "No, Harry, Draco has never hurt me. He may be a bit rough around the edges, but he's always treated me well."

Harry nodded, not quite comprehending how he and Ginny could be talking about the same Draco Malfoy. He shook it off, forcing himself to focus on the younger woman who had been like his sister, and spoke quietly.

"Why Draco, Ginny? Why him?"

A small, sad smile came to Ginny's face and she shook her head lightly. "You wouldn't understand even if I told you. And I know you're not ready to hear it yet. So right now I don't want to talk about it."

Harry frowned, confused, but nodded. Just then Hermione burst into the room, dragging a struggling Artie by his left wrist.

"Arthur has just attacked one of the school governors," Hermione said sternly, her gaze leveled on Harry. Harry's eyes widened as he glanced at Artie. Draco? Artie had attacked Draco Malfoy?

Ginny gasped, and Hermione quickly added, "Draco's okay, of course, though he's sprouting a horn in between his eyes that will need to be looked at." The transfiguration professor turned and looked at Harry, her expression severe. "Attacking a governor is a serious offense. Artie could very well be expelled."

Both Harry and Artie's eyes widened, and the younger boy quit struggling, an expression of fear crossing his face. Harry felt a flicker of anger course through his body, wondering what Hermione expected him to do about this, when it hit him. She wanted him to discipline Artie. Harry closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, hoping he was adopting a serious enough expression as he turned his focus to Hermione and Artie, who was staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Thank you, Professor Granger. I would like to deal with this, if possible," Harry said calmly. Hermione gave him a slight nod, releasing her grip on Artie's arm. Artie rubbed his shoulder and Harry waited until she and Ginny had left the room before turning his complete focus to the younger boy.

"Harry, I'm sorry I was just …" Artie began to stammer.

"Sit," Harry barked out. Artie's eyes widened and the younger boy quickly scrambled for a chair.

"It's just that my dad…"

"Artie, you are going to be quiet," Harry said, stifling the anger he felt boiling up inside. "Because if you don't, I am going to ship you back to the Weasley's and you can spend the rest of your life tending the pumpkin patches while your classmates finish Hogwarts."

Artie fell silent.

"This has gone far enough," Harry said, working hard to remain calm. "Now I will lay down some ground rules, which you will follow, or you will face the consequences."

Artie stared at Harry, his face paling. His blue eyes were wide in shock.

"First, you will write a letter of apology to both Draco and Ginny Malfoy, and send it out immediately," Harry said, gritting his teeth together as he spoke.

"But…"

Harry held up his hand, and Artie fell silent again. "Furthermore, you shall write a letter of apology to the board of governors for your deplorable behavior, as well as one to the Headmistress and to Professor Granger." Artie's jaw dropped.

"You will serve two weeks of detention with Gin… Professor Malfoy, and you will not complain about it," Harry said, feeling the excitement beginning to grow in his stomach. This was not as hard as he thought it would be.

"But Harry…"

"You will not call me Harry when we are in class, and I want every one of your missed assignments on my desk by the end of the week, or you'll serve a week's detention for each of them."

Artie's eyes grew as big as saucers.

"You will treat me with the same respect you show other Hogwarts teachers; and if you come in late to my class again, I'll take fifty points from Gryffindor."

The young wizard's eyes widened and his face started reddening. "You can't do this to me! You're not my father." He yelled, jumping to his feet.

"You're right," Harry yelled back, the dam containing his anger finally bursting. "I'm not. Your father would be ashamed that his son was about to be expelled from Hogwarts!"

Artie stepped back as if he'd been hit, and instantly Harry regretted his mistake. Before he could open his mouth to apologize, Ron's son had fled the room.

Harry felt his heart turning painfully in his chest as he slowly slumped to the ground. His body was shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but the assignment was squelched by the unmistakable feelings of despair that flooded his body.

What had he done now?