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Chapter One
Ginny Weasley had little more to look forward to for her last year at Hogwarts. Most of her friends had graduated Hogwarts the previous year, shortly after the final death of Voldemort. As the Head Girl, she was obligated to share quarters with Head Boy Colin Creevey, who made no secret of his affections for her—affections that she did not return in the slightest. And, for the umpteenth time, they had a new, and probably very incompetent, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, as the most recent one, Remus Lupin, had been killed in the final duels against Voldemort. At least that wasn't a problem now; she didn't need any more instruction in Defense Against the Dark Arts, having learned all she needed before the last duel.
What she didn't know as she ran through the wall at King's Cross was that, at that moment, Dumbledore was at his Hogwarts office to receive an applicant for the vacant position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
A pale white ghost floated up the stairs to Dumbledore's office, hovering inside just as the clock read nine o'clock. It was the ghost of a colorless, but nevertheless handsome young man whom few would have recognized as the late Dark Lord. This was Voldemort, but reverted to his earlier appearance as Tom Riddle, in an effort to draw less attention on his way here. As Voldemort, he was widely hated and once feared; as Tom Riddle, he was unnoticed by almost everyone.
That disguise did not work against Dumbledore. Voldemort floated in, expecting a hostile reception from his one-time Transfiguration professor.
"I am here to apply for the Defense position which was said to be open," the ghost hissed.
"I see," Dumbledore said cordially, "Please take a seat, Mr. Riddle."
The ghost of Voldemort put out his hand in the direction of a chair, wandlessly pulling it closer to Dumbledore's desk. Then, Voldemort lowered himself onto the chair, floating at a level that made him appear to be sitting.
"Now, it is standard procedure to interview the job applicants," Dumbledore stated. "Shall we begin?"
"Of course," Voldemort hissed, as politely as possible. "I feel compelled to say, thank you for giving me a chance, Headmaster. I know most wizards would not be as tolerant of one like myself." He smiled inwardly; this interview was going far better than he had expected.
"You're welcome. First, tell me why you want to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts."
"I have several reasons. First, because I deeply desire to atone for the many crimes I have committed. I know that I can never undo my career as the greatest dark wizard in history, but I know also that I will not be the last person to attempt to gain power through the Dark Arts. I want to use my extensive expertise in Dark Arts to help train future generations to fend off the inevitable dark wizards that will someday take my place. I hope that no future generation has to experience the anguish of losing friends and family to another Dark Lord; that the wizards and witches of the future will have enough knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts to be able to fend off dark wizards who attempt to emulate me. The tragedies I inflicted upon so many members of Harry Potter's generation, I hope will never be repeated until the end of time.
"Secondly, I believe that I am the one person best suited for this job. My dueling skills are well known to be outmatched only by your own; my knowledge of dark magic is unparalleled in the entire world of wizardry. I am certainly far overqualified to teach the Defense class. I also happen to be fluent in Parseltongue, which is frequently helpful against dark wizards. Your objections to allowing Severus Snape to teach the course years ago—you feared that it would bring out the worst in him—would be unfounded for me, as I, being dead, am clearly restricted in the amount of magic I can actually use, as opposed to the amount of magic theory I know.
"Thirdly, I would also help to diversify your staff, which is something you often seek. You welcomed a werewolf and a half-giant, among others, onto your faculty, which had never been done before. I would be only the second ghost on your staff and I would also be the first Parselmouth. You've been surrounded by people who believe that dark magic is evil in and of itself ever since you came here. I could bring a fresh perspective to the table; in the future, having someone who knows the viewpoint of a Dark Lord might be quite useful."
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "Your practical skills in this subject matter are clearly above reproach. However, merely being proficient in something and being able to teach it to others are two vastly different things."
"I had no problems teaching the Death Eaters when I started the first war. Once the students fear me, they will learn what I teach very, very quickly. I cannot instill that fear using Cruciatus, for obvious reasons, but detentions and House points would be more than enough. Professor Snape has used them quite effectively for many years."
"It is obvious that you are well qualified. However, I cannot make a hire based simply upon qualifications, in your case. If I were to hire you, it would attract massive public opposition. The Ministry might even step in to prevent you from taking the job. How would you solve this problem?"
"I have enough influence over the Ministry, through Lucius Malfoy, to ensure that there will be no interference from that area. As for the students and their parents, it may take some time before they are convinced of my sincerity. But give me a year, and I can win them over."
Dumbledore smiled and offered his hand. "Congratulations, Mr. Riddle. You have the job," he announced jovially. "Classes will begin in two days. These are the schedules and the necessary paperwork." Dumbledore handed Tom a thin paper folder, which passed right through Tom's hand. Tom was not deterred; he wandlessly pulled the papers with him as he left. "Thank you, Headmaster." He floated down the stairs and was gone.
The Hogwarts Express train was steaming through the countryside, approaching the castle. The students did not yet know who their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was.
It was the first day of school at Hogwarts. The shadow of Voldemort was gone from the school, and the talk of students was about far more trivial matters…such as who would be the Defense teacher.
"I wonder if they even hired a new Defense teacher," Luna had said, "now that Voldemort's dead."
Thomas Marvolo Riddle was the first to arrive in his classroom. He hovered over the seat behind his desk, his lesson plan and schedule laid out before him. He glanced once at the schedule. His first class would be the Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh-years, at 9:00 a.m. According to the clock on his desk, that was in ten minutes.
Students began to trickle into the classroom, mostly Slytherins at first. Each student, as he or she entered the room, tended to look upon him in wonder and surprise; although they did not know that he had, until recently, been the feared Dark Lord, none of them had expected to have a ghost for a teacher. They stared at him, or else pointed and talked amongst themselves in low voices. He gazed back on the Slytherins dressed in their green and silver. If I were alive now, he thought, many of these students would be pledging allegiance to me by the end of the year.
It was five minutes to nine. Most of the arriving students now were Gryffindors, who were in far less of a hurry to find out who their DADA teacher was. He knew that if he had chosen to take the appearance of his adult years, they would be treating him with far more contempt and disrespect; as it was, they commented and gossiped about him but nevertheless sat at their desks, waiting expectantly.
Meanwhile…
It was 8:57 a.m. Ginny and Luna stepped into the Defense classroom together, two of the last students to arrive.
Ginny looked around and quickly noticed that there were only two vacant seats left, the two center seats of the front row. Right above them, she saw the ghost teacher, who looked strangely familiar. He turned, looked into her eyes, and smiled—and she realized, with a start, who it was. She froze instantly, her brown eyes clamped open with shock and fear.
"Ginny, what's the matter?" Luna's voice sounded very concerned. The other students were beginning to stare at them.
"No…not Tom Riddle!"
So that's what Voldemort looked like when he was young, Luna thought, as she looked at Riddle's ghost up at the front of the classroom. He was quite a handsome ghost, far different than the shriveled old Voldemort who had recently been killed.
"Miss Weasley!" called Tom, "Is there a problem?"
"Come on, Ginny, we should sit down," Luna pulled her to the front of the room, closer to the professor. Ginny recovered enough to sit at one of the empty desks, but she still watched her new teacher warily.
Tom turned to address his class. "Welcome to class! I am Tom Marvolo Riddle," all the students gasped in surprise as they finally realized that the late Dark Lord was going to be their teacher. Now the students understood the reason for Ginny's unexplained reaction a few seconds ago; Professor Riddle was still speaking, "and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year—and hopefully, I'll be here for a long time. You may address me as Professor Riddle…"
A Slytherin boy raised his hand. "Can we call you Voldemort?" he asked. Some of the Slytherins smirked at each other.
"You may call me Professor Voldemort if you prefer, I suppose," replied Professor Riddle. "Now, I'm obviously new here, so I'll need to know where you left off last term. Who can tell me?"
Luna raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Lovegood?" Riddle had no need to ask her name; he knew her from the duel that had cost him his own life.
"I have a question. Professor Voldemort, why are you being allowed to teach at Hogwarts?"
Riddle sighed, and said, "I am here because I want to redeem myself. In my life I and the dark wizards who served me did many horrible things. I want to help to make sure that the next generation of wizards and witches can defend themselves properly, so that any future Dark Lords will not be able to inflict as much tragedy as I did. I know that I destroyed the innocence of your generation—Harry Potter's generation—and I don't want your children, and your children's children, to experience the horrible things you have."
There were no more questions. "Now, in order to effectively prepare you for the N.E.W.T.'s, I need to know exactly where you are now. I will give you a sample test on Defense Against the Dark Arts now. This test will not count for a grade—I merely wish to see your current level—but please do your best on it anyway, so that I don't waste time in class teaching what you already know."
Riddle magically lifted a small stack of parchments off the corner of his desk, sending it directly to Ginny's desk. "Miss Weasley, would you please help pass out the tests?" he asked very politely.
Tempers ran high at the Wizengamot meeting that afternoon.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, it seems that you have recently hired Lord Voldemort, under the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle, as a teacher at Hogwarts?" asked Amelia Bones angrily.
"Yes, I did," Dumbledore had to admit. He was standing, a sea of enraged eyes fixed upon him.
"How could you entrust a classroom of impressionable children to the worst dark wizard in history?" shouted one of the Wizengamot members.
"We can't stand by and let this man…I mean, this ghost, brainwash the leaders of the future with his racist ideas!" another shouted, drawing massive applause.
Dumbledore sighed, and answered, "Mr. Riddle was the best qualified applicant for the job. And he was, as far as my Legilimency could tell, completely repentant of his past actions. He asked me to give him a second chance, and I saw no reason to deny him one. In his interview, he expressed a desire to atone for his life of violence and hatred by helping future generations to fend off the dark wizards who would inevitably follow in his footsteps. He is a harmless ghost now, and he showed sincere remorse for his past. Therefore, I granted him the vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts position."
"Tell that to your students' parents!" Bones retorted. "It's only been one day and we're already getting hundreds of complaints from the public! My job depends on the people, and unless you can convince them, Headmaster, I will be obliged to intercede."
Author's Note: A reviewer pointed out that Professor Binns is a ghost, so I removed the dialogue about there not being a ghost on the staff previously.
