Aerin Wylse had been sleeping soundly when the bright green flame flashed brightly in his fireplace, Minerva stepping out quickly, followed closely by a rather attractive, rather agitated, blonde woman. "Minerva?" The man grumbled, sitting up slowly, theblanket falling to reveal a scar riddled, sporty torso. "You said morning... not the crack of dawn." The elder woman looked a little baffled at the comment, then glanced to a clock on the wall as her cheeks flushed quickly. "Oh dear... It would seem that I made a slight miscalculation. It was Eleven in the morning when Miss Lovegood and I stepped into the Headmaster's floo. I failed to take into account the time gap. I apologize for the inconvenience."
Luna Lovegood was still having trouble peeling her eyes from the man's chest. Ink covered a majority of his skin, But the most noticeable tatoo of all was the flames coming down from his left shoulder, with smoke curling up under his chin. Her gaze was broken, however, when the man cleared his throat. "Umm, sorry, ladies... But I would love a cup of coffee, and unless you want an eyefull I would suggest you leave the room..." Minerva and the young Miss Lovegood exited quickly and Aerin stood, slowly stretching, his battle scarred body aching in the morning hours. The last wizard war had taken it's toll on the defense specialist, but itn was nothing he couldn't take. The tall, somewhat slender man threw on jeans and a mostly clean white shirt, then brushed the black hair from his face. He really should get it cut.
Aerin walked into the kitchen to find the two women bickering quietly across the table at each other, a fresh pot of straight black coffee sitting on the table. The damn thing read his mind. Coffee, he thought. Black coffee, no sugar. He glanced from Minerva to the blonde. Yeah, the blacker the better. He gingerly took his seat at the head of the table, dark rings around his sharp, green, sleep depreived eyes. He poured a mug of coffee and immediately started sipping at it. "Okay, Minerva. What on God's green earth could be so important that you woke me up at six in the damn morning?" The headmistress looked at him a bit indignantly. "Firstly, young man, I know for a fact that your mother would never let you speak to her like that." Luna snickered quietly, then Minerva continued.
"I'm visiting today to offer you a job at Hogwarts. We never seem to be able to hold onto a Defense Against the Dark Arts proffesor, and you were a defense specialist in the war. We could use someone with a little experience." Choking on his coffee, Aerin just stares wide-eyed at Minerva. "Of course this position comes with a title. You would be the head of Gryffindor. I can no longer juggle my duties as headmistress and my duties with Griffindor House." Finally able to breath again, Aerin finaly interupts the woman. "Oi... No, no, no. First of all, preteens? Raging horomones? Kill me now. Secondly, I can't teach DA! I can't even use a damn wand. I do magic nonverbally, and I've never tought anyone anything. I'd sooner go back to war than be a DA teacher. Finally, who's the pretty blonde and why's she here?"
"The pretty blonde, as you so fondly out it, is Miss Lovegood. She is the head of Ravenclaw House. She is also going to be your guide during your first year teaching at Hogwarts. Is this going to be a problem, ?" The male looks at the two women, carefully weighing his options. "Oh fine, Minerva, you know I can't say no to you. But I will do this my way, no wands, no words, and my own brand of discipline. American magic is vastly different from the British variety. Is this something you would be able to allow as the headmistress?" Minerva looks a bit unnerved at this, but she clears her throat and stares the man down. "If those are your demmands, then I suppose they will do. You start next Monday, bring any clothes you may need. Full ammenities will be provided in your office and your living quarters."
Young miss Lovegood silently watched the conversation, still slightly immersed in the man's body. She had never really felt this way about a man before, as she had always been a bit put off by people, perferring the company of books and conspiracy pamphlets. She was an odd one, at least that's how Proffesor McGonagal put it. But this man seemed different, there was deffinately something odd about him, and she would get to the bottom of it.