a harry potter fan fiction (mah first fan fiction actually)
100 years later.
Harry sat hunched over a desk hand moving a pheonix quill quickly over the yellow sheet of parchment below. He wrote in the thin slanted writing once so firmilliar to him by another hand. He was reminding himself more and more of Albus Dumbeldore as the years flew by. A brisk knock at the door came as messenger to the arrival of professer Neville Longbottom, a spry young man following his Grandfather's footsteps as herbology professer and head of Gryffindor house. He spoke in a clear scottish accent inhereted from his mother.
harry looked up from his finished letter
"it- its about your son" longbottom stuttered, hands clasped tightly in a way so reminiscent of the long dead Professer Quirrel.
"y-yes. I belive he has made an error..."
"all men have made errors, i doubt james is the acception" said Harry in a voice that could only have come from years of wisdom.
Longbottom stared quizzically before carrying on.
"er, well yes headmaster, i mean, no, he isn't the, er, an acception, but nevertheless, the err-error he has made could cost the secrecy of our world! please, I implore you hear me o-o-out." he finished the sentance by unclasping his hands and placing them stiffly at his sides. harry smiled, recalling his father Xavier doing the same thing to make a point stonger.
"yes, Neville, I do sometimes regret my nominating him as minister for magic, I guessed that since the death of dear Lily he might have assumed some responsibility. I find myself however mistaken." Harry bowed his head slightly to indicate the truth in Neville's words. "However, i have no intention of abolishing his status. He has gotten himself into a jam and must therefore get himself out."
"but headmaster, is this wise? i mean-"
"weather or not it is wise we shall not know unless we give him a second chance. Do you belive in second chances professer?"
"Sir! He is old! his mind is going, another mistake could cost us our secrecy!"
Harry noted Longbottom's drop of his title.
"Neville, I have no objection to his marring miss Sarah. However, I admit that telling her family and friends was a sever lapse in judgement. one that will not be repeated. you are dismissed"
Neville made to argue but thought better of it and turned to leave.
"and Neville, you can call me Harry you know."
Neville nodded as he closed the door behind him. A voice, similar to Harry's own in age and status spoke from behind the desk. "Well put Harry"
the portrait of Minerva Mconagle nodded thoughtfully, her long hair free of its bun.
"I hope so professer" said harry and began adressing the letter in his hand.