the usual disclaimer. I do not own JK Rowling's magnificent characters, general story arc, etcetera. All other characters are mine, though

this is set to take place during Harry's sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts. As he has already completed the sixth year in Half Blood Prince, I've had to make a few deviations from canon to fit the story. I started it about two years ago and there's only so many ways I can adapt it to the new stuff from Half Blood Prince without scrapping the story entirely. So enjoy!

Prologue:

A Difficult Decision

Albus Dumbledore was troubled, and when Albus Dumbledore was troubled, things were grim indeed. He sat behind the desk in his office, ignoring the unsolicited advice being offered by previous headmasters, and pondered his dilemma. He was, yet again, trying to find an instructor for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.

There was rampant speculation that the post was cursed, and he was willing to admit there was some truth behind that. Certainly no one had lasted long. The last five professors in particular had met unhappy ends. One dead, one with an obliviated memory, one resigning under duress, one imposter, and one incompetent. He sighed. Little wonder that there were few applicants for the job.

Dumbledore looked down at the rather measly pile of parchment in front of him, and picked up the first application. Severus Snape was applying again. The Potions master was still trying to switch positions, despite Dumbledore's insistence that he stay where he was. Severus was impatient, and frustrated, and didn't have the knowledge, as Dumbledore did, that there were more important things in store for him. Every time the Defense Against the Dark Arts position opened, he applied, and every time he was passed over.

The second application was easy to dismiss right away. Drusilla Snicket had been a student at Hogwarts many years before, and Dumbledore remembered her well. She had scraped the necessary O.W.L.s to teach, but lacked the bright mind and inborn skill that was needed of the position. In these dark days, Dumbledore insisted on the absolute best teacher for the position that he could find, and Drusilla Snicket was not it. He made a mental note to send her an aged bottle of Firewhiskey, however, along with a letter of apology.

The final applicant he rejected outright as well. Theophilus Nott, while certainly capable of the position, was a cousin of one of Voldemort's known Death Eaters, and if Dumbledore remembered correctly, Theophilus was rather close to his cousin. As headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore had the safety of several hundred students to consider, and he would not hire a professor who might be Voldemort's key to the school.

He let the parchment drop to his desk, his agile mind going to a fourth possibility. Perhaps it was time to bring out the Order of the Phoenix's greatest weapon, a weapon so secret that only the older members of the Order and the highest echelons of the Ministry of Magic knew about. He penned a quick note to Minerva McGonagall asking for her counsel, and sat back to wait. The witch in consideration would be a perfect candidate for the position, but there were extenuating circumstances. He himself was not the best person to make the decision regarding her either, as he himself had close emotional ties to her. Best to let a more impartial judge, the Transfiguration professor, make the decision.

Dumbledore didn't have long to wait. Five short minutes after the delivery of his note, Minerva was knocking on his door. He bade her enter.

"You wanted to see me, Albus?" she asked with a curious expression.

"Minerva. I wasn't disturbing you, was I?"

"Not at all," she assured him. "I was checking to make sure that I had everything necessary for this year's fifth year class. Neville Longbottom was rather hard on my stores this past year and…..well, I usually need to replenish my supplies after teaching him."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled briefly, but he kept his expression serious. "I wanted to ask your advice about the Defense Against the Dark Arts posting."

"No one yet?" she sighed.

He shook his head. "Severus again, and two unsuitable candidates. And time is short now." The start of term was just two weeks away, and this year, of all years, it was vitally important that he make the right choice.

"How can I help you, then?" She sat patiently, but he could see the bafflement in her sharp eyes.

"What would you think about appointing…….."