AUTHOR'S NOTE: Been sitting on this idea for the longest time. Oh, and for those who are wondering, A Sickle A Month is going to be on a looong hiatus, because I realize I put like, nil brain effort into it and there's basically no description or anything…it's pretty much naked and I can't bear to think I cranked out something like that. Thanks to those who read it and an even bigger thanks to anyone who was bothered enough to leave a review, and THOSE are: letmebewithyou, Nightelf, motRINsaltshaker, Liv, and Fireblade K'Chona. Thanks very much, your reviews meant a great deal to me. Still, I think you might like this story better.

IMPORTANT: THE TIMING IS WAAY OFF, AND I KNOW IT! Here's the deal: Voldemort's dead/gone/whatever, Dumbledore's alive, and so is Sirius. I'm not in denial, I just like them better that way. Also, Remus is younger…he's around…oh, I don't know…27? 29? I'll decide later. Anyhow, don't read into it too much. Don't write me a review saying, "Omg, that means James had him when we was 9 or something, you pedophile" or whatever, because I know, and I don't care, this story isn't about when James had Harry. P Anywho, just warning everyone. You could send me a review that says that, though, I won't mind, lol. Now, without further ado, on with the fic!

Student Professoring
Chapter 1: Interview #6

Elizabeth Vance folded her nervously sweaty hands in her lap and hoped her fluttering heart would rest a bit.

"I have only one last question to ask you, Miss Vance. Why do you think you should get the job, as opposed to anyone else? Lemon drop?" He offered her a small bowl of the sour balls in a glass heart. She took one and let it melt slowly in her sweaty palms, toying with it.

This wasn't such a hard question. The six interviews she'd had to go through before reaching this one had included the question. Her reply was ready and waiting. Yet somehow, staring into those clear blue eyes and that bemused and benign smile made it impossible for her to rattle off the words. Instead, she sighed and nervously leaned towards him, throwing caution to the winds, and blurted out the honest truth. "Sir, I can't honestly say I'm better than any of your other candidates because I don't know who they are. But… but I think I need it quite badly, you see, for the past few month's I'd been living with my aunt. She knew you, Emmeline Vance."

"A great witch," Dumbledore said solemnly, inclining his head in respect. Eliza nodded.

"Yes. As you know, she passed away recently and I live alone now. It didn't take me more than a minute or two to realize you can't smile your way through life." She grinned waveringly and wiped surreptitiously at her glassy eyes, tossing her hair away from her face and straightening up.

"Aside from that," she continued in a resolute tone of voice. "I've always wanted to be a teacher. Since I was about this high." She smiled and indicated a height half that of her chair. "I like to work with kids, and if they walk away having learned something, well, so much the better. And there's a more selfish reason, of course. I'd like to know everything they might teach me. Just…being surrounded by all that thinking and knowing…" She smiled. "Would be a most enjoyable experience for me." Although she had started on a wavering, uncertain note, she'd ended happy and composed.

Dumbledore smiled too, and rose, indicating an end to the interview. They shook hands and Eliza paused, tilting her head. "Sir...?" He'd guessed at her question already.

"We'll owl you with a reply within a week."

"Thanks. That's rather fast."

"Ah, yes, we don't like to keep our staff…that is, our potential staff, waiting long."

Her black eyes twinkled in a hopeful smile and she straightened her blood red dress robes uselessly. Flipping her long, black hair aside, she gave a cheery wave and left.

Dumbledore sat at his desk, surveying his staff over his steeped fingers. "Well?" he questioned. They'd just returned from a journey in the headmaster's pensieve wherein the last interview had reformed in the very office they sat clustered in. There were some definite smiles, some uncertain frowns, and some dark looks of downright disapproval. That is, there was one look of downright disapproval, but as that was above a spectacularly hooked nose, it was to be expected. "Minerva?"

Minerva McGonagall looked at Dumbledore uncertainly. "She seems a bit young…"

"Graduated a couple of moths ago," Dumbledore nodded.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Yes, I know, well, she's hardly more than a student herself."

"I think the jobs very nicely 'student professor', then, right?" Dumbledore reminded her. McGonagall "hmphed", but made no further comment.

"All I'm worried about is that she wont' be able to keep things under wraps, command a classroom," Professor Sprout voiced, shrugging.

"Ah, but I think she has a way about her. We mustn't underestimate her. Emmeline's niece, after all." Professor Sinistra put in.

"I like her," Flitwick piped up resolutely. Remus Lupin inclined his head thoughtfully.

"I think she deserves a chance," he said. Most of the others nodded. Severus Snape sneered.

"I think this whole idea is useless."

"I agree with Severus!" Phineas Nigellus said immediately, and with much conviction in his nasal voice.

"Thank you, Phineas, that's enough." Turning to look at Lupin, Dumbledore continued, "I'm glad that you, at least, are in agreement, Remus. She will, afterall, be student professoring for your classes." Remus' eyes widened in alarm and he suddenly looked terrified. Seeing that a verdict had been reached, everyone else rose and filed outside.

"Sir!" Remus choked out hoarsely. "You can't be serious! I- I can't! M- Minerva, that is, Professor McGonagall would be a much better choice…"

"But she wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts to student professor over." At Remus' look of slight surprise, he added. "Don't forget I'm a sufficiently accomplished leglillimens myself. It's been decided, Remus." He laid a paternal hand on the younger man's shoulder and said with a slight smile, "I can think of no one better, at any rate, and even if she hadn't been partial to that specific choice, I would have picked you." The young man was still much too surprised to say much, so it was left the headmaster to exert a gentle pressure on his shoulder and steer him gently to the door.

Where a very flustered and put upon McGonagall was waiting. Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, Minerva! I daresay you have a few words to exchange with me? Do come in." He held the door open and then followed the Deputy Headmistress into his office in a swirl of robes. "Lemon drop?" he offered politely, popping one into his own mouth.

"No, thank you," McGonagall said rather sternly. "Albus, you know very well what you've just done, don't you?" her voice had taken on a severe edge. "She's a girl, Albus!" Minerva burst out upon seeing Dumbledore's politely clueless expression. "You know how student professors are dealt with! Why don't you assign her to a female professor? It would be much more appropriate."

Dumbledore smiled amusedly. "Times are changing from when you and I were young, Minerva."

"Yes, well, they ought not to change quite so much," she shot back stiffly. Obviously the breach in conduct seemed quite a pressing matter to her.

"I'm inclined to agree with you, however, I do believe Mr. Lupin is a responsible young man, and he has my full and complete trust." Minerva fought with the sound reasoning of this statement for a spell before she spoke.

"He's responsible, yes, but is she?" When it looked like Dumbledore was about to respond to that, she held up her hand, "Oh, yes, I'm sure you're sure she is, and so am I, but we both know how young minds are, I'm sure." A light tinge of pink tainted her cheeks, but she continued nonetheless. "Remus is younger than he feels and behaves, but he is young…and- and, whatever else, he's still a man." She was positively blushing by now- a fact which seemed to amuse Dumbledore a great deal. Every inch of him spoke of ill-suppressed amusement. "It's not funny, Albus!"

"No, my dear, I agree, it's not." There was a silence in which they both stared at each other, McGonagall expected Dumbledore to continue, but failing to realize he was quite finished.

"Well…" she trailed off after a good few minutes had passed and two lemon drops later. "Well, I just hope you realize what you're doing here." She rose and tilted her head in farewell.

"Oh, not in the least, but you all seem to think I have a grip on things, and it is often not what one is capable of, but what everyone thinks he is." With another one of those benign smiles of his, he bid McGonagall good day and sat back behind his desk, writing up a letter in his thin, loopy penmanship.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, what did you all think? I know a great way for you to tell me…-