It was a beautiful morning as the sun shone down on the shabby patch of grass that marked the center of Grimmauld Place. If you know what you were looking for, the door for Number 12, Grimmauld Place was closed, the snake on the door seemingly soaking in the sunlight. Inside, all was quiet. You would never believe that someone lived there, had there not been a cup of tea waiting on the counter, still steaming slightly. The owner of this house was currently skimming through a letter that had been brought by a tawny owl. Aforementioned owl, who was waiting patently for the man's emerald eyes to finish skimming the letter, hooted softly. Until-

"PROFESSOR?!"

The owl, startled, took flight as the raven-haired man stared, eyes wide, at the scrap of parchment in front of him.

"WHAT THE-!"

(Cue Harry Potter theme song thingie)

Yes, I have succumbed to the temptation!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the main plot of the books, the characters, or anything remotely familiar.

NOTE: I won't be staying canon. People who died will be back. Not all of them, just some of them.

Eyes still wide, he gaped at the piece of parchment that he currently was holding. Shocked, he grasped for his wand which was lying, abandoned, by the cup of slowly cooling tea. Flicking it at the wall, a stag immediately materialized before looking at his conjurer inquisitively, as if asking "Yes?"

The man kneeled down next to the Patronus. "Go tell Dumbledore that he's going loony if he actually wants me anywhere near his students." The stag seemed to nod in acceptance before streaking out the window in the direction of Hogwarts. Sighing, the man went back to his tea as he ran a hand through his hair.

He only had to wait a few minutes before a beautiful silver phoenix flew through the window. It settled on the table in front of him and opened its beak to speak. However, instead of chirping or phoenix song, the voice of his old headmaster rang through the room.

"I must be loony then, Harry, because I do indeed wish for you to take the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. And please, if you wish to argue, Floo to my office in person. Your Patronus takes up quite a bit of space in my office." The phoenix echoed the Headmaster's chuckles as it faded into mist before disappearing completely, leaving no trace of its existence. Running a hand through his messy hair, Harry waved his wand to clean away the remains of his breakfast before standing.

"Loony old coot," he muttered as he grabbed his robes off of the chair back. "Me, a professor. He's gone mad." Shaking his head, he took a pinch of green powder from the ornately carved saucer on the mantle over the fireplace. After making sure Kreacher knew he would be leaving for a while, Harry tossed the powder into the fire. Basking in the warm breath he felt as he stepped into the emerald flames, he drawled "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts," and was whisked away into the Floo system.

Seconds later, the young man stepped out of the fireplace and into the old Headmaster's office, quickly cleaning off any remaining ash with a quick nonverbal 'scourgify' so he wouldn't make a mess of the clean office.

"Hello Headmaster," Harry murmured, smiling softly as the magic of Hogwarts washed over him, surrounding him. He couldn't help but reminisce about all the times he'd ended up in this very office- albeit for circumstances much different than the one he currently found himself facing. The feeling of nonstalgia and of rememberence were rather comforting.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore replied, watching the young man revel in his memories. "Please, sit." He gestured at the chair in front of him. Nodding, Harry sat down before looking at Dumbledore.

"I assume you're going to explain to me why you chose me to ask to fill the DADA post?" Harry intoned, smiling good-naturedly.

"You would assume correctly then. I chose to request you for a number of reasons, not the least of which being your experience in the subject." Dumbledore inclined his head.

"And?" Harry prompted.

"You are more than qualified to teach this subject. I remember that, although you skipped your seventh year, you surpassed all of our students here when you took your N.E.W.T.S. at the Ministry."

"But I'm guessing there's something else?" Harry inquired, waiting for Dumbledore to get to the point.

"I seem to recall a group your fifth year. A rather ambitious defense group." Harry blinked, lost at the sudden change of topic, before realising what the Headmaster was saying. "If my memory is not fading- which I suspect it is, however much I wish to deny it-" Dumbledore chuckled. Harry couldn't help but smile at his old Headmaster's ability to make him comfortable about things like this. "I believe this group called themselves 'Dumbledore's Army.'" Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "If my informers were correct, I believe the leader and teacher of this group was none other than a young fifth year named Harry James Potter, a rather brilliant teacher if the abilities of the students that he taught said anything." Harry blushed modestly at the Headmaster's praise.

"And all of this supposedly makes me qualified for this post?" Harry asked, just to make sure he understood- and to drag this out for a few more minutes.

Dumbledore smiled, catching on to his plots. "More than anybody else."

Harry nodded before running his hand through his hair. "I see how that would help with the practical part, but why in Merlin's name would a bunch of students listen to me?"

Dumbledore merely waited curiously for him to continue. "I mean, I don't want them listening because I'm famous, but they won't listen unless I'm famous- or I threaten them, I suppose," Harry commented under his breath. "After all Headmaster, I'm only eighteen."

'Ah.' Dumbledore thought as he studied Harry's nervous expression. 'And we reach the heart of his worries.'

"I believe, Harry, that they will listen to you. Not because you are famous, and not because you threaten them," Dumbledore laughed kindly, like a grandfather would when you did something silly. "I believe- if you teach them correctly- that they will listen because they will respect you. If what I've seen of you is any indications, they will accept you within a week."

Harry just attempted to smile. "If you say so, sir."

"So will you take the job?" Dumbledore asked hopefully.

Harry looked him straight in the eye, and emerald green met ice blue.

"Yes."

And so it begiiiiiiiiiiins… (eerie music)

Plot bunnies. I do so hate them. –shoos this plot bunny out of my head- I have a whole stack of them. I hope this turns out as well as I'm hoping it does.

Reviews are loved.