Chapter One
FIDDLING AROUND
DISCLAIMER: All characters are the property of J. K. Rowling. I do not own any of this material, except the plot line, of course. [Hehe. I have always wanted to write that.]
Harry fumbled with the golden chain clinging to his neck, from which a pendant of a snitch dangled. It had been a present from Ginny on their first Valentine's Day after they were married, and it had not moved from his neck since her dying day. The hole in Harry's heart gaped and burned. No woman would ever fill that space. Or so he thought …
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Harry Potter stood tentatively in front of the mirror, adjusting his scarlet dress robes and attempting to flatten his wild hair. Preparing for a job interview was not an easy task – particularly when Harry had no idea of what was considered presentable in this day and age. It did not help that, until recently, the only clothes – aside from wizard's robes – in his possession were exceptionally baggy, having once belonged to Dudley. He had been brought up with absolutely no aptitude for self-image. Following numerous attempts to neaten himself up, to no avail, Harry finally gave up on the mirror. He departed his home in Godric's Hollow with an audible 'crack'.
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Harry found himself at a set of wraught iron gates, which had been bolted, rather well, by magic. With no other choice, he withdrew his holly and phoenix feather wand from the pocket of his scarlet dress robes, watched a silver stag erupt, and waited. Harry could swear that he heard a child screaming something about almost getting eaten by a giant squid, but his train of thought was interrupted by the light of a lantern coming towards him from the castle. Memories surged through Harry's mind.
This time, however, it was not Severus Snape who came to greet him, but Argus Filch, looking as crook as ever. Harry could only hope that Mr. Filch had forgotten about the KwikSpell incident in Harry's first year.
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Harry rapped on the intricate, oak door that led to an all-too-familiar circular office. "Come in," replied a weathered voice. The heavy door creaked open, and Harry could see that the occupant of the office was both shocked and honoured of the tall figure that entered. Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk, a rare smile dancing across her face.
Harry nervously crept into a seat opposite the wooden desk. "I … the …" He realised that if he were to get this job, he would have to get a grip on himself. "I'm here for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, as advertised in the Prophet." His stomach squirmed. Harry wondered whether the job was still jinxed.
McGonagall raised her eyebrows, "Don't get me wrong, it's an honour to have you here, but I was under the impression that you were seeking employment at the Ministry."
"Well, actually, professor, I think I've fought enough dark wizards for a lifetime. For once, I want to live a quiet life."
"Very well. You haven't passed your NEWTs, I see. Then again, I don't think we'll see such a skilful and decent applicant for a very long time. Very well, then. Why exactly do you want this job? What unique skills do you think you possess that make you a better applicant than anybody else?"
Little did Harry know that Minerva McGonagall was willing to give him the job, no matter what he said. He fidgeted with his fingers as he thought out his answer. "Well ... I dunno ... I guess Hogwarts has always been my home." This was the truth, but to Harry, it sounded like the most pathetic answer to any question he'd ever heard. He continued, "I just want the kids to be prepared for whatever's out there. Life isn't happy-go-lucky like it is in the storybooks. There are things out there, and although fighting dark wizards is nothing like the classroom situation, I want to bring the two closer together. I don't just want to teach spells and practice them on matches and feathers, I want to add another dimension to the lessons."
"Might I ask about any prior experience?"
'This was a question? Had she been living under a rock these past seven years?' Harry thought. "Um ... let's see, now ... I stopped Voldemort from getting to the Philosopher's Stone, I saved Ginny Weasley from a Basilisk, I freed Sirius Black, fought off about 50 dementors, duelled Voldemort in a graveyard, set up my own Defence Against the Dark Arts class, fought off the Death Eaters countless times, and defeated one of the darkest wizards of all time."
Minerva nodded her head and began to jot down notes on a sheet of parchment.
Harry was extremely nervous. It did not help that Professor McGonagall's face was as stern as ever. How could he ever be so stupid? McGonagall would never let him take the job without NEWTs.
She cleared her throat. "Potter, you may go." Harry's heart sank. "Or should I say, Professor Potter. I'll see you on the first of September."
Another of her rare smiles flickered across her face. In fact, this was no ordinary rare smile, this was a grin.
Harry did not know what to say. A gigantic smile sprawled itself across his face. "Th … thank you, professor."
"If we're going to be colleagues, I give you permission to call me Minerva." McGonagall raised herself from her throne-like chair, and dusted her tartan robes. "Now, if you'll excuse me," she began, "I must deliver some papers to the owlery. I believe a man named Gregory Goyle would like to know why he was rejected for the position." To this, Harry let out a loud chuckle.
[ A/N ] Thanks to everyone for your positive feedback! It has really kept me motivated.
I am hoping to update every seven days at the very most, but I cannot make any guarantees.
In case you are wondering when this is set, it is a year after the legendary battle between Harry and Voldemort. As for why Ginny's dead, you'll find out in due course.