Empty Spaces

Chapter 58

"Potter, a moment after class, if you don't mind?"

"Erm– sure, okay, Professor– I mean, Headmistress," Harry replied, looking up from his toad. Last week, he'd actually worked up the courage to approach McGonagall asking whether there was a chance of any positions at Hogwarts being open to him next year. He'd toyed with the idea of becoming a teacher before, an idea that he'd never taken seriously because– well, because there was no need to. But now with a Potions apprenticeship off the table, it seemed like the next best career option. He supposed he could also just live off of his inheritance, but if the summer had taught him anything, it was that he needed to have something to do in order to stay sane.

Hermione actually kicked him under the table now, so hard that he couldn't ignore it the way he was ignoring her other (more subtle) looks and nudges.

"Later," Harry whispered finally, "Tell you later."

Satisfied with having received some sort of response, she smiled and nodded with so much enthusiasm that Harry wondered what the hell she thought was going on. Knowing Hermione, she'd probably figured out the truth already.

The remainder of class passed painfully slow, with Harry alternating between excitement and dread as the what-ifs grew steadily more bizarre inside his own head. He'd told McGonagall that he would be open to just about anything, but if there was a possibility of becoming a teacher– maybe not next year, but in the future– he was interested. The possibility of becoming Holmberg's assistant briefly flashed through his imagination, but Harry had never heard of a Hogwarts teacher taking an apprentice before. Was that even something that people did...? It was a lot to ask, and he was now starting to fight the familiar guilt.

At long last, McGonagall dismissed class and Harry made his way up to the front of the room, trying not to look too eager or too worried.

"I've given your request some serious thought, Potter," McGonagall said as the last remaining students filed out. "And I hope you have, too."

"Er–" Harry replied. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it.

"There are two teaching positions open for next year," McGonagall continued, not waiting for a proper answer, "Transfiguration and Muggle Studies. I'm sorry, Potter, you are nowhere near qualified at this time to teach Transfiguration, so that is out of the question. But seeing as Muggle Studies is an informative course rather than a practical one, with the proper training over the summer, I could conceivably offer you this position. But you must remember, Potter, that this is a commitment to the entire school year, one that cannot be taken lightly. So I will not officially offer the position to you until the end of the term, and in that time, I urge you to seriously consider the subject matter and whether this is something you truly want to do."

Harry nodded, processing. It was everything he'd hoped for– not only could he stay at Hogwarts, but he'd even been offered a teaching job! McGonagall had a fair point– it wasn't his first choice in subject matter– but she had an equally valid point that it was also something he was unlikely to mess up. So what was wrong?? Harry couldn't pinpoint it beyond one tiny, nagging question:

That's it?

"What did McGonagall want???" Hermione asked the moment Harry stepped outside the classroom.

"What??" Harry had to concentrate to get his brain back together. It's everything you wanted. Right? So what's wrong then??

"McGonagall," Hermione stepped back, making a noticeable effort to give Harry more space, "What did she want? Is everything okay?"

"Er– yeah–" Harry said vaguely. He hadn't told Hermione about his previous conversation with McGonagall; in fact he hadn't told anyone. Not even Draco. He could barely believe he'd done it himself.