Pettigrew raised a hand.
"Yes?" Harry nodded at him.
"Uh… aren't you the bloke that wiped out that bunch of people fighting in Diagon Alley around Christmas?"
"The reports are exaggerated, I'm sure," Harry said. "I certainly did not 'wipe out' anyone. But yes, I was there."
A couple of loud snorts that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter followed that pronouncement, and Harry quickly traced it to James Potter and Sirius Black. He glared at them, doing his best to put on his best Snape face. "Did you two have something to say?"
"No, not at all," Sirius replied casually as James shook his head.
Harry kept the two fixed with his stare, refusing to be intimidated by the fact that he was staring down his father and godfather. Dammit, I'm the adult here, and they're the children, he thought to himself.
His concentration was broken when he realized someone else was staring at him from the side. Turning around and instinctively finding the source of that stare with reflexes honed by years of battle, he discovered his mother looking at him intently, her brow furrowed suspiciously. Fine, I'll do her, too, Harry thought before realizing how that sounded. He barely managed to suppress the urge to retch at that. "Did you have a question, Miss…?" he asked.
"Evans," she supplied perfunctorily. "Just where are you from?"
He absently noted that no one had yet addressed him as "professor" yet, not that he really cared, but it meant that he would have to either intimidate this class into following his instructions, or persuade them some other way. Briefly running through his false identity in his mind to avoid potential conflicts, he replied. "Australia. I've travelled a lot, though, so you might actually pick up on a slight American accent."
"Have we met before?"
"No," Harry replied quickly, realizing too late that perhaps he had answered too quickly.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm not quite sure I understand, Miss Evans. Was there a point to your question?"
"Just because you're from some other country doesn't mean I couldn't possibly have met you before. It's perfectly possible that I've travelled to one of the places you've been to and ran into you there," Lily informed him, her tone rather precocious.
"So, have you travelled someplace and seen me there?" Harry asked, feeling the beginnings of a headache.
Lily seemed to take a moment to think, a puzzled expression on her face, but soon answered. "I've been to a lot of places with my family, but I don't remember seeing you in any of them."
"Then you have your answer, Miss Evans," Harry said, preparing to move onto the lesson. "Now-,"
"But I still have the feeling that I've met you before."
"Whatever," Harry muttered, rubbing his temples. "If you happen to remember, let me know." Good luck remembering the future, mother .
With a negligent wave of his wand, Harry removed the illusion from the board and revealed the potion recipe. "Your assignment for today's class," he said by way of explanation. "Finish it before you leave, label the bottle with your name, and leave it on my desk." As an afterthought born from his not wanting to be completely like Snape, he added, "If you have questions, I will assist you."
While the class erupted into a sort of controlled chaos as the students began their work, Harry settled down in his chair and wondered what he would do if they didn't get it right. A sigh of disgust drew his attention, and Harry immediately recognized the source: Severus Snape. The look on his face made it clear that he thought this potion was beneath him, and Harry was sorely tempted to dock points from Slytherin.
"Sir," Lily called out approaching his desk as other students began working, "I'm not sure we're supposed to be brewing this potion today."
The headache turned into a pounding migraine. "Does it really matter?" he asked, doing his best to keep a level tone.
"Well, we're supposed to learn them in a certain order. Didn't the headmaster give you any of Professor Slughorn's lesson plans?"
Now I know how Snape feels when Hermione is on a trip, Harry thought, almost feeling sorry for the man now sitting on the other side of his desk. As much as he loved Hermione as a friend, sometimes she drove even him up the wall with the way she was planning things to the extreme and got upset when those plans were not followed exactly.
Harry half-heartedly found the pile of papers that he'd looked at. "Yes, he did. And for your information, Miss Evans, that potion is marked in the lesson plan for this semester, signed off by the headmaster himself."
"But sir…"
....
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