A/N Kind of an introduction to the story, better chapters to come. Please review! :)

Chapter One

Oliver

I never thought I'd be back at Hogwarts only five years after my departure. Or ever, for that matter. After my short-lived career as the reserve Keeper for Puddlemere United ended, McGonagall contacted me to ask if I'd like to take up her old position as Transfiguration professor. Apparently none of the applicants had quiet lived up to her expectations. As I'd scored Os on my N.E.W.T.s in all classes, and had a bit of work experience, I was a prime candidate without even trying.

So anyway, here I am, back at Hogwarts. It feels quiet odd to be putting my own belongings in McGonagall's old office, and suddenly being Head of Gryffindor. Being back makes me feel old, at only twenty-two. The chalkboard still has a diagram and writing on it, from the last failed attempt of filling the post. Thinking of my own words up there makes me feel sick.

I pick up the board eraser and swipe it across, before setting it back on the ledge. I sit on my desk, careful to not knock anything off, and look out at the desks in front of me. There seems to be thousands. Perhaps I didn't think this through.

"Wood?" I hear a voice from the door. I stand and brush chalk off the sleeves of my robes.

"Oh, hello Longbottom." I cast the newly appointed Herbology Professor a smile. His dark hair sticks up in the front, and a smudge of dirt is across his nose.

He smiles back, leaning in the doorway, "Strange to be back, eh?"

I chuckle, "Very. I feel like I'm playing professor."

He nods his head, scuffing his boot against the floor, glancing at the desks, "I almost expect to see everyone from my year sitting there, waiting for me to stand up in front of the class." He looks up, "Bit scary actually. Never been good with talking."

"I've always been a bit too good with talking. Fred always said I'd never shut up before a match." I smiled fondly, and then grimaced at the thought of my long-winded pep talks.

Neville laughed, a smile cracking the dirt on his face. We stand there for another moment, looking around the classroom. Tonight the students arrive. And tomorrow I'll be teaching three classes. Bloody hell.

He seems to be having the same thoughts, "Well, nice seeing you Wood, but I suppose I should go trim those Flutterby bushes for the first years now." He nods his head and ducks out, leaving a few muddy footprints behind him.

Leta

This blasted train. If it could move any damn slower I'm sure it would. Of course I'm stuck in a carriage with bloody Vince Graham. And all his lame friends. Just because Mum was late dropping me off so I had to duck into the first remotely empty compartment I saw.

"So, Let." Graham starts off, giving me his killer smile. He's fit, yes, but a total dick. I have to be stuck with him most of the time, being in the same year and House. "Who is it you fancy?" He smirked.

I rolled my eyes, "Asking third year questions, are we, Graham?"

He chuckled like he really found that amusing, "Apparently we are, Blaze."

I looked out the window, turning my back on him, fucking train won't move any faster. Behind me Graham and his buddies laughed and made rude jokes. I willed Hogwarts nearer.

Eventually we pulled into the station, and I pilled into a carriage without Graham, finding my friend Ciara finally.

"I though you'd missed the train!" She pulled me in for a hug. "It's been ages!"

Ciara is a very exclamatory person, whilst I tend to be on the quiet side. It's why we work, I feel. I hugged her back, and listened to her prattle, about the boys she met in Spain, and her sister who just graduated the year before us. Ettie was very popular, and pretty. Ciara looks just like her, and gains just as many looks from guys. With her blonde hair and bright blue eyes, she outshines me. She denies this, of course, as do all pretty girls. She thinks my dark wavy hair and green eyes, even with my freckles, are more appealing. I'm more curvy, but she's taller, with longer legs.

We make it up to the school, and up the steps. Going through the heavy doors of the Great Hall for the first time of my last year feels odd. It doesn't feel as though this is the last year I'll have at Hogwarts.

"Wow," Ciara whispers in my ear, "He's fit!" I follow her glance to the newest addition to the staff table, a tall man with sandy brown hair falling into his eyes. He looks uncomfortable in his nice robes. His blue eyes barely peek out from under his hair. He looks downright terrified.

I laugh at her, "You aren't supposed to fancy professors." I tell her as we sit down at the Gryffindor table.

She shrugs, "He's fit too." She points at the obvious Herbology professor, with a smear of dirt across his nose. I shrug and laugh at her again.

We sit back and zone out as McGonagall starts her speech. I lay my head down on the table, and barely pay attention to the sorting, giving only a perfunctory cheer when Gryffindor is called. After we eat I walk back up to the dorms with Ciara, looking at the tiny first years. I think they get smaller every year, I swear.

We finally make it to the dorm, and change into pajamas. Me into my boy shorts and sports bra, and Ciara into some pretty bra and knickers set. Don't even know why. I get out my blanket from home, the one my dad bought me right before he left us when I was seven. I lay it on top of my duvet, and crawl under them, tapping my wand on the clock next to my bed, setting it for seven the next morning.

This better be an interesting year.