The End Chapter 1: Final Beginnings, a harry potter fanfic

Peering through his window, Harry Potter pathetically sighed as the rain poured outside. "This is just pitiful," Harry grumbled as he stared at nothing in particular, "I hate the rain, don't you Hedwig?" he asked his faithful snowy owl. To Harry, the rain always seemed to make everything more complicated and frustrating, especially during Quidditch season.

Harry stretched his arms high above his head, hoping that something exciting would happen outside. For a few days now, Harry had been wishing that Lupin or Ron and Hermione would come and rescue him from the hellhole he was living in. He knew that no one was going to come save him from spending one final morning with his malicious relatives, the Dursleys.

Thankfully, Uncle Vernon would drive Harry to the London King's Cross Train Station today and soon he would be able to reach his beloved magical world. But for now, the young wizard was stuck in the non-magical world watching the rain pound against his cracked window. In one more hour Uncle Vernon would hustle up the creaky staircase, pound his chubby fist against Harry's bedroom door, and then order Harry to make everyone their breakfast.

Fluffing her snowy white feathers, Hedwig hooted loudly to grab her owner's attention just as he was drifting off into his old memories. The owl was alerting Harry that Uncle Vernon was slowly making his way up the staircase. Her acute ears picked up the sounds of the overfed-Muggle breathing heavily as he pulled himself up the small steps. Hedwig hopped back inside her metal cage, due to the fact that Uncle Vernon did not enjoy having an owl loose in his house. She ruffled her feathers as Harry shut the door to her cage, "Sorry Hedwig," Harry muttered unhappily to his pet. Narrowing her beautiful yellow eyes at the bedroom door, Hedwig hissed just as the doorknob began to jiggle.

A chubby, grey-haired man entered Harry's room with a stern expression on his face. "It's six-thirty, come and make us some bloody breakfast," he demanded in a gruff voice. Uncle Vernon was never a very pleasant fellow; he had beady eyes that always glared at Harry to show his great distaste for the boy. "No more having to stay up half the night hearing that bloody bird hooting," Uncle Vernon shook his chubby red finger at Harry, "And no more magic in the house…" Glaring once more at Harry, the grumpy, overfed uncle slammed the door after his plump behind.

A chubby, grey-haired man entered Harry's room with a stern expression on his face. "It's six-thirty, come and make us some bloody breakfast," he demanded in a gruff voice. Uncle Vernon was never a very pleasant fellow; he had beady eyes that always glared at Harry to show his great distaste for the boy. "No more having to stay up half the night hearing that bloody bird ," Uncle Vernon shook his chubby red finger at Harry, "And in the house…" Glaring once more at Harry, the grumpy, overfed uncle slammed the door after his plump behind.

"Great…" Harry jumped off of the edge of his hand-me-down bed and quickly pulled a knitted wool sweater over his head. It was one of the many wool sweaters that Ron's mother had knitted for Christmas. Even though it was still September, the morning air that was breezing through the cracked glass window allowed Harry to see his breath.

Grabbing his suitcases to carry downstairs, Harry left Hedwig for last since she did not enjoy being moved around so much in her metal cage. Pocketing his trusty wand, Harry ventured down the stairs to find an overly pump child impatiently tapping his foot.

Dudley Dursley was a very selfish child, who was now stronger and taller than Harry. With a double chin for a short neck, this plump child waddled to wherever he was searching for food. Harry imagined that Dudley could eat the entire world and still be asking what was for dessert. Dudley grew uglier and uglier as the years passed by, his thick, brown hair matched the same slicked-back style that his father always had and Dudley lifted his nose higher and higher in the air whenever Harry was around like his mother would do. Dudley narrowed his beady brown eyes at Harry like the wizard had just vomited all over his favorite shirt.

"Well hurry up, I want my breakfast!" Dudley commanded sternly as he played with the black tie that was around his fat neck. The Dursleys must have been going somewhere after Harry was dropped off at the train station-they were all wearing their very best outfits. A matching black jacket was stretched out to the limit on Dudley's plump body. He pointed to the kitchen with a chubby index finger that was almost as thick as a tree trunk. "You better cook something better for today," he warned as Harry brushed by Dudley without looking at his cousin.

"Well hurry up, I want my breakfast!" Dudley commanded sternly as he played with the black tie that was around his fat neck. The Dursleys must have been going somewhere after Harry was dropped off at the train station-they were all wearing their very best outfits. A matching black jacket was stretched out to the limit on Dudley's plump body. He pointed to the kitchen with a chubby index finger that was almost as thick as a tree trunk. "You better cook something for today," he warned as Harry brushed by Dudley without looking at his cousin.

Harry secretly rolled his eyes at his fat relative, "I'll fix bacon this time…" he grumbled under his breath. Just as he went to reach for a frying pan, Dudley waddled into the kitchen and gave him a nasty look. Not knowing what Dudley was angry about, Harry went on preparing to cook breakfast. "What is it, Dudley?" Harry snorted when he couldn't take the staring contest any longer.

"What else besides the bacon?" the cousin glared at Harry as if to tell him that he needed to cook something more than just some bacon.

"What besides the bacon?" the cousin glared at Harry as if to tell him that he needed to cook something more than just some bacon.

"More bacon," Harry retorted without thinking twice about it. He went to the refrigerator to grab the bacon and ignored Dudley's shocked expression. You could stand to starve to death for a few months…Harry thought darkly to himself.

"More bacon," Harry retorted without thinking twice about it. He went to the refrigerator to grab the bacon and ignored Dudley's shocked expression. …Harry thought darkly to himself.

Giving him the look of death, Dudley began to pout about Harry only feeding him three strips of bacon, "That's all?" When the young wizard did not reply back, he stomped out of the kitchen with his face beat red. Dudley was going to whine to his mother about Harry's cooking again.

Only another hour of this, Harry told himself as he nearly burned his finger when he laid the strips of bacon on the smoldering frying pan. This would be the last time Harry would have to listen to his terrible relatives. He would be soon turning seventeen and then he could leave for good. Once he was free of their orders, he would become an Auror like he had always dreamed to be.

Thirty minutes later, Harry and his Uncle Vernon were on their way to the King's Cross train station. They sat in the tiny automobile in complete silence, never saying and never exchanging glances with one another. Uncle Vernon had a triumphant expression in his beady eyes; soon he wouldn't have to listen to that blasted owl hoot all night long. He kept his eyes fixed on the traffic ahead of him as they sped down the busy streets of England.

Harry hoped that his friends would save him a seat on the train; he did not want to sit with Neville Longbottom and his pet toad again like he had to last year. The young wizard's eyes lighted up when he saw the train station off in the distance. Soon… Before Uncle Vernon had completely parked the car, Harry jumped out of the vehicle and went to the back of the car to grab his suitcases and Hedwig.

Harry hoped that his friends would save him a seat on the train; he did not want to sit with Neville Longbottom and his pet toad again like he had to last year. The young wizard's eyes lighted up when he saw the train station off in the distance. … Before Uncle Vernon had completely parked the car, Harry jumped out of the vehicle and went to the back of the car to grab his suitcases and Hedwig.

As Uncle Vernon struggled to heave his heavy body out of the driver's seat, Harry conjured a spell to make his suitcases and Hedwig feel feathery-light. Harry knew that his relative would not lift one of his chunky fingers to help Harry carry his suitcases nor hold Hedwig for him. Pretending that his suitcases were extremely heavy, Harry dragged himself along the paved street with Hedwig under his arms and headed towards the entrance to the train station. They entered the station and then walked to the platform nine and three-quarters where Harry would take his leave.

"Be good Harry," Uncle Vernon snorted in an unloving tone to his nephew, "Hopefully I won't see you until the end of the school year…" With that being said, Uncle Vernon left Harry at the odd platform without saying goodbye.

Checking his surroundings, Harry grabbed his suitcases and Hedwig without any effort and ran right through the stone pillar. Hundreds of witches and wizards were bustling around the train platform trying to board the Hogwarts train for school or to kiss their children farewell. Sighing with relief this time, Harry carried his things to the nearest luggage space on the side of the train and then boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Immediately, Harry began his search for Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. After he passed a few open booths, he finally found Hermione sitting in one of them all alone. She was stroking her fat orange cat with Chrooshanks purring loudly. She just happened to glance away from her window to see Harry standing in the doorway with a bright smile on his face. "Harry!" Hermione carefully moved her cat off her lap and then jumped out of her seat to hug him. "I'm so glad that your Uncle wasn't too mad at you for trying to set Dudley's shoe on fire a few weeks ago…"

Hermione had grown a few more inches; she was almost as tall as Harry was now-even without wearing her thick black shoes. The witch's long, curly brown hair was cut considerably shorter this year, it reached just an inch below her shoulders. But her personality had not changed much; she was still the brightest witch of her age and always had a book handy. Grinning from ear to ear, she wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and gave him a warm hug. "Can you believe it Harry? This is it-our final year at Hogwarts!"

Nodding with a sly smile, Harry was wondering where Ron had gone to. The redhead was usually waiting for him with Hermione. "I'm just happy that I survived this long," he half-joked as he glanced around the booth that Hermione had selected. Empty chocolate frog wrappers were stuffed into the side of the seat across from where Hermione was sitting with her cat; Ron was definitely around. "Where is Ron?"

"I think he said he was going around the booths to see if you had accidentally been stuck with Neville again-" Hermione thought about it for a while, "He's been gone for quite a while…maybe we should go search for him."

It was usual for Ron to get lost or to find trouble at the worst of times. One thing that Harry did not want to do was to save Ron from Draco Malfoy again. Harry was nearly expelled from the school the last time Ron had accidentally stumbled into Malfoy's booth.

Farther and farther back they traveled, until there were only five more booths on the train to check for Ron. Two were empty, leaving only three more options to find the missing redhead.

One of the booths had drawn Harry's full attention though. The curtains had been yanked across the windows, blocking the view of whoever was inside the booth. As he drew closer the entrance of the booth, his breath shortened and suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked in a low whisper. Hermione decided to take a peek at what was inside the booth, she brushed by Harry and reached out to open the sliding door.

"Hey! Don't open that!" Neville Longbottom cried from a few booths ahead of them. He bolted out of his booth with a slimy, brown toad in his hands, "Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is in there…" he panted loudly.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked a little too loudly.

Swallowing hard, Neville glanced over at the dark booth and then checked to see if anyone was listening in on what he was about to tell him. "My grandma and I saw the professor board the train…" the nervous boy whispered in reply. "He was wearing a dark black cape and had the hood pulled over so no one could catch a glimpse of his face… The professor went into that booth and drew the curtains so no one could look inside…"

The know-it-all witch rolled her eyes in disbelief, "Neville…" she sighed unhappily, "How do you know that he is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

Neville was never a clever or swift boy; he wasn't very good at any of his school subjects in fact. The only class that compelled him enough to raise his hand was Herbology. He was afraid of everything; he was practically the boy who was always picked on at school. Clumsy and forgetful, Neville was very loyal to his friends but had only just begun to act brave around them.

Nervously glancing around again, Neville Longbottom told them what he had heard about the new professor that Albus Dumbledore had hand-picked himself. "Everyone says that the new Dark Arts teacher is a vampire," sweat trickled down Neville's already pallid complexion when he explained how he had found this information out. "My grandma was speaking with Professor Sprout when we were out at Diagon Alley buying my school books…"

Nervously glancing around again, Neville Longbottom told them what he had heard about the new professor that Albus Dumbledore had hand-picked himself. "Everyone says that the new Dark Arts teacher is a ," sweat trickled down Neville's already pallid complexion when he explained how he had found this information out. "My grandma was speaking with Professor Sprout when we were out at Diagon Alley buying my school books…"

Again Hermione did not believe him, "Why would Dumbledore allow a vampire to teach at the school?" she seemed troubled by this news. "They aren't allowed near the school grounds, it said so in-"

There was a loud thump in the booth across from Harry, he could hear some muffled cries coming from inside. "Doesn't that sound like Ron?" Harry interrupted Hermione when she was about to say which book she had found out about all of the rules at Hogwarts.

Forgetting what she was about to say, Hermione nodded with a curious expression. "It does sound like him…" she followed Harry as he crept closer to the shut booth door.

Carefully sliding the door open, the Gryffindor students found Ron gagged and tied up. From what Harry could tell, the redhead yelped with joy when he saw his friends standing in the doorway. "Welpft," Ron muttered as he scooted closer to Hermione.

"Who did this to you Ron?" Hermione was absolutely shocked to see that Ron's lip was split open and his left eye was black and blue.

Before Ron could say who the perpetrator was, a blonde student, dressed in green robes, exited the last booth on the train. Standing a foot taller than Harry, the Slytherin casually made his way over the group of Gryffindors. "Well-well…" Malfoy snorted with laughter, "What do we have here?" The pureblood wizard stuck his nose high into the air, "Looks like your pathetic friends finally found you Weasley..."

Before Ron could say who the perpetrator was, a blonde student, dressed in green robes, exited the last booth on the train. Standing a foot taller than Harry, the Slytherin casually made his way over the group of Gryffindors. "…" Malfoy snorted with laughter, "What do we have here?" The pureblood wizard stuck his nose high into the air, "Looks like finally found you ..."

Harry clenched his fists, "You did this to Ron!"

"I caught your friend here snooping around in my booth," Draco Malfoy narrowed his dark eyes at Harry, "and I don't appreciate being spied upon!" He had a pleased look on his smug face, "Maybe you'll know now not to mess with me, Weasley!"

"You won't get away with this Malfoy!" the witch grumbled unpleasantly towards the Slytherin, "There is a professor in the next booth and all I have to do is yell for help and…" Hermione let her voice trail off to show that she meant business.

Shaking his head, Malfoy smirked at his house rivals. "My father is personal friends with the new professor..." he also let his voice trail off to have the same effect. A terrible gut feeling reached Harry; anyone who was a personal friend of Lucius Malfoy was trouble indeed.

Shaking his head, Malfoy smirked at his house rivals. " is friends with the new professor..." he also let his voice trail off to have the same effect. A terrible gut feeling reached Harry; anyone who was a personal friend of Lucius Malfoy was trouble indeed.

"I bet tying me up and tossing me into one of those empty booths made you feel really special, Malfoy," Ron snapped. "But I really don't think you want be shooting your filthy mouth off when you are outnumbered four to one."

"I bet tying me up and tossing me into one of those empty booths made you feel really , Malfoy," Ron snapped. "But I really don't think you want be shooting your filthy mouth off when you are outnumbered four to one."

"If you try anything, that professor will be out here in a matter of seconds believing that you are the culprits...not me..." Rolling his eyes at Ron's threat, Draco Malfoy focused his attention on Harry. "So, Potter-" he snorted, "Are you ready for this year's Quidditch matches?" he raised a questionable eyebrow at his seeker rival.

"If you try anything, professor will be out here in a matter of seconds believing that are the culprits...not me..." Rolling his eyes at Ron's threat, Draco Malfoy focused his attention on Harry. "So, " he snorted, "Are you ready for this year's Quidditch matches?" he raised a questionable eyebrow at his seeker rival.

Harry did not enjoy the way Malfoy was hinting that he was going to lose to the Slytherin team this year, "Have a new broom Malfoy? Or did you finally get some talent?"

All four Gryffindors beamed with delight, making the Slytherin feel a little outnumbered right then. Keeping his mouth shut this time, Malfoy glared at the seventh years as he pushed by them in a heated rage. The Slytherin stomped down the middle of the corridor and suddenly veered into an open booth where some of his companions were staying. Harry could hear Malfoy slam the booth's door shut and mutter a few swear words to his friends.

"Thanks for the save," Ron praised his friends as he wiped the blood away from his chin, "I can always count on you guys..."

By nightfall, the Hogwarts Express arrived at the edge of the school. Everyone was relieved that they had finally made it to their destination. The trio made their way off the train to find the usual horseless carriages waiting for students to climb inside. These horseless carriages were actually not horseless, winged, black horses led the carriages to Hogwarts. Thestrals could only be seen by someone who had witnessed a death, Harry could see them quite well and now Ron and Hermione could see them too. They grabbed the first available carriage, after greeting the thestral, and traveled to the large castle surrounded by a glistening lake. Remaining silent during the short ride, Harry wondered if the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be like all of the others except for one…terrible.

Once they had reached the castle, the headmistress of the school greeted all of the arriving students. Minerva McGonagall's vibrant red hair was slowly fading into a light grey. On her was her usual dark emerald-hued robe, glistening in the light and making her golden eyes shine brightly in the torchlight. Glancing around, the headmistress' eyes lighted up with relief when she noticed that Harry had safely returned to Hogwarts-without any disasters like the years before. "Hello Mister Potter-are you ready for your final year?" McGonagall inquired with a bright smile on her thin red lips. She continued to greet Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the seventh-years as Harry thought deeply about her question. The boy had no idea whether he was prepared enough for the final outcome of this year-but he knew the end was coming sooner than later. "Go right inside you three," the Scottish professor pointed to the Great Hall where the arrival feast and speech were being held.

As they entered the elaborate dinning hall the trio were greeted by a familiar ghost who was holding onto his head with one pasty, transparent hand. "Hello Sir Nicholas," Hermione beamed brightly to the Gryffindor's House ghost, "Have an eventful summer?"

Nearly Headless Nick nodded as best as he could, he did not want to frighten the first-years by showing his nearly severed head. "I was finally admitted to the Headless Hunt. After careful deliberation by the president of course... I think he was sick of me requesting to join the hunt so many times," Headless Nick added with a transparent wink. "Enjoy the feast," he chimed pleasantly as he floated away from the Great Hall doorway.

They were next greeted by Neville, Colin, Ginny, and Seamus; they had saved them seats at the Gryffindor dinning table. Sadly looking around at all of the faces at the Gryffindor table, Ron gloomily took a seat. "I miss Fred and George...they were such a blast to have around during the speech and sorting days...Now what am I suppose to do to keep myself entertained-huh Harry?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well maybe you could actually pay attention to the headmaster's speech this time around-so at least one of you won't go and break the rules again this year."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well maybe you could actually pay attention to the headmaster's speech this time around-so at least one of you won't go and break the rules this year."

"Oh shut up Hermione-there are no more rules for us to break anymore anyways..." Ron snapped as he heard his stomach grumble loudly. "I hope we get to eat soon..." he whispered to Harry once Hermione was done scowling at Ron.

A bright flash made Harry's pupils shrink ten times their normal size; he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes to bring them back to normal. "Colin-I thought McGonagall told you that you weren't allowed to use that bloody camera anymore?" He carefully placed his glasses back on to be surprised to find that Colin did not have his old-fashioned camera in his hands.

Grinning from ear to ear, Malfoy lowered the camera from his eyes to reveal the sinister sneer on his mouth. "I thought I'd get a before picture of you Potter..." he stated loudly with the group of his usual Slytherins laughing loudly behind him.

Grinning from ear to ear, Malfoy lowered the camera from his eyes to reveal the sinister sneer on his mouth. "I thought I'd get a picture of you ..." he stated loudly with the group of his usual Slytherins laughing loudly behind him.

Harry wondered what Malfoy was going on about, "Before what, Malfoy?"

Harry wondered what Malfoy was going on about, "Before what?"

"Before the Slytherin Quidditch Team take the Quidditch Cup and win the House Cup this year..." the blonde Slytherin handed the camera to one of his cronies for them to hold. "I'll just love to see the look on your face when we-"

"Before the Slytherin Quidditch Team take the Quidditch Cup win the House Cup this year..." the blonde Slytherin handed the camera to one of his cronies for them to hold. "I'll just love to see the look on your face when we-"

"That won't happen Malfoy," Ron interrupted sharply.

Raising his eyebrows at the redhead, Malfoy's sneer grew longer just before he opened his mouth to speak. "I would try to save all of your vocabulary Weasley...You just might need all of those big words for when you lose to us in the finals."

Raising his eyebrows at the redhead, Malfoy's sneer grew longer just before he opened his mouth to speak. "I would try to save all of your y Weasley...You just might need all of those words for when you to us in the finals."

Walking past the two dining tables just in the nick of time was Professor McGonagall, she barked at Malfoy and his cronies to return to their table before the sorting started. On her way towards the staff table, she winked to the Gryffindors cheerfully and went to her seat. She turned her attention to the man sitting to the left of her, the headmaster of the Hogwarts school.

Standing up in his seat, the Great Hall fell silent as they watched him raise his hands to settle down the chattering first-years who did not know what was going on at the time. "We will begin with the sorting..." Dumbledore breathed softly so the students would strain their ears to hear what he had to say, "...and then proceed with the rules at Hogwarts for those who do not know them and for those who still won't follow them..."

Albus Dumbledore preferred to be soft-spoken, giving him the appearance of a wise elderly wizard nearly matching the skills that Merlin himself had once possessed. A bright twinkle could always be found in his eyes, which made him more trustworthy than the rest of the staff members. His soft grey beard floated a few feet above the ground, his matching curly grey hair was past his waist. Like always, Dumbledore preferred to wear multi-colored robes with a matching bent wizard's hat.

Ron fell asleep during most of the sorting. He would snort in his sleep whenever the Gryffindor table cheered as a new student took a seat at their dining table. He was finally rudely awaken by Hermione nudging him with her pointy elbow, "Alright-alright...I'm waking up...bloody hell..." he muttered unhappily just before Dumbledore began to go over the school rules.

Remembering most of the rules by heart, Harry barely paid any attention to Dumbledore's familiar speech. His attention had fallen upon an unknown face sitting right next to Hagrid. Straining his eyes to see who they were, he was unsuccessful due to the fact they were covered in shadows and Hagrid's massive body blocked most of the view of the new staff member. Again Harry was worried about something, but he could never put his finger on exactly what was worrying him so much. Dismissing his uneasy stomach as nothing more than jitters, he tried to focus on the headmaster.

A pause came in Dumbledore's speech; he had finally finished telling the first-years the rules at Hogwarts; he glanced over to his left with a pale smile on his face. "This year we have one new professor," Dumbledore began the introduction of the new teacher with a soft voice, "This professor is very talented in the Defense Against the Dark Arts. I hope you all treat this professor with upmost respect…"

Severus Snape rolled his eyes when Dumbledore had told the faculty and the students about the brand new Dark Arts professor. I hope this one doesn't stutter and smells like a wet dog all the time, he laughed to himself as the headmaster continued to speak. This time, the new Dark Arts professor was not sitting next to Snape like the original ones had always done. The new professor was a complete mystery to him and the rest of the staff.

Severus Snape rolled his eyes when Dumbledore had told the faculty and the students about the brand new Dark Arts professor. , he laughed to himself as the headmaster continued to speak. This time, the new Dark Arts professor was not sitting next to Snape like the original ones had always done. The new professor was a complete mystery to him and the rest of the staff.

"A. S. Hunter will be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." As with tradition, the called professor stood up from their seat to have the students familiarize themselves with the new professor.

The first thing that drew attention to the students and the faculty was the professor's dark blue hair, it swayed from side to side a few inches below the professor's shoulders as they bowed their head to the students. Raising her head back up, the female professor took her seat beside Hagrid with a humble appearance on her pallid face. Everyone assumed that the new professor was nervous about being introduced to the students, so they ignored the fact that she was dreadfully pale for the entire feast. Hunter had dark eyes, there was no light bright enough to penetrate through the black ice that covered them. The professor never moved her lips or smiled at Hagrid as he told her all of his experiences at the school. This professor appeared emotionless to everyone.

"She sorta looks like a vampire, doesn't she?" Ron hissed to his fellow classmates at the dining table.

"That's what you said about Professor Snape the first time you saw him," Ginny Weasley muttered in a bored voice.

This is the witch who took my chance at teaching the Dark Arts! Snape was enraged that such a meek and humble professor could convince Dumbledore to hire her as the Dark Arts professor rather than choosing him. Bending his fork in half, Snape tried to contain his rage in silence while the headmaster finished his speech.

Snape was enraged that such a meek and humble professor could convince Dumbledore to hire as the Dark Arts professor rather than choosing . Bending his fork in half, Snape tried to contain his rage in silence while the headmaster finished his speech.

"Hermione-Hermione-did you see what Snape just did?" Luckily Ron had found something to entertain himself with for the rest of the speech; otherwise he would have fallen back asleep again.

Harry shifted his attention away from Dumbledore's speech to watch Snape tighten his grip on the ruined silver fork. He had never seen Snape so infuriated by the appearance of a new Dark Arts professor. Glancing over to the new professor, Harry couldn't understand why Snape would hate such a modest professor-she didn't feel like any major threat to Snape's position. But there was one thing that bothered Harry, the Dark Arts professor just happened to find him staring at her.

A sudden cold chill shot down his spine, warning him that this new professor did not enjoy being stared at. Harry made eye contact with the witch for a brief moment and felt as if an icy dagger was being forced through his forehead. Quickly, he looked away from the professor while rubbing his forehead tenderly. Harry hoped that this new professor couldn't read minds like Dumbledore and Snape could.

Hermione had a concerned expression on her brow; she had noticed that he was rubbing his forehead as if it was in pain. "Harry?" she touched his shoulder lightly to see if he needed any help, "What's wrong?" Her hazel eyes searched his for answers that he didn't want to say out loud in public, but there was nothing wrong with Harry. The pain subsided rapidly and Harry pulled his hand away from his forehead.

"Nothing is wrong, Hermione," Harry smiled brightly to her to reassure her that everything was perfectly normal. There was no reason for worrying. It wasn't Harry's scar that was burning in pain; it was just a part of his mind that was throbbing madly. Ron beamed with joy when Dumbledore had conjured the food on the house tables and the faculty table. "OOoo! It's roasted ham this time you guys!" he squealed with delight as he reached to grab four slices of ham with one hand and two slices of bread with the other.

- - - - - - - -

"C'mon Harry! It's our first day of class-I don't want to be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Hermione stubbornly placed her hands on her hips and tapped her black shoes against the stone floor.

Harry grabbed his books and bolted down the stone steps to find that his friends were impatiently waiting for him by the large fireplace. Ron was playing with the handmade rug with his shoe, while Hermione was throwing her hands into the air wondering what in the world Harry was doing upstairs in the boys' sleeping dormitory.

As they picked up their pace, the trio discussed hastily what they had heard about their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "I heard that she has been living off of chicken's blood for nearly a hundred years now!" Ron exclaimed just as his legs burned while they were climbing up the stone steps to the first floor. "She must be wicked old then, right Harry?" Ron asked with a gleam in his eyes just when they reached the first floor entrance.

Scratching the back of his head, Harry gave Ron a clueless shrug of his shoulders, "She didn't look that old to me..." Of course, Harry was having second thoughts about the new Dark Arts professor-she seemed too innocent to actually be that well trusted by Dumbledore.

Hermione snorted loudly, "Vampires never age you two-we learned that our third year in Hogwarts, or don't you remember?" The clever witch fell silent for a moment, "Besides... Professor Hunter can not be a vampire since we have Dark Arts class first thing in the morning."

Thinking back Ron paused in the corridor for a moment and rubbed his chin with his fingers, "Hmm...third year, third...year..." he strained his mind to concentrate very hard at that moment. "A-ha! I never payed any attention to that essay on vampires. I thought it was bollocks since Professor Snape was teaching that week..."

For a while Hermione just stood in the middle of the corridor with a furious expression. But then she muttered something silently under her breath and she returned back to her normal know-it-all self in no time whatsoever.

On the way to the Dark Arts classroom, the trio passed the entrance to McGonagall's office on the left of the corridor. When the headmistress' office was out of their viewing range, the seventh-years slowly progressed towards the door to the Dark Arts classroom. They were all nervous about their first class with a new professor, but they were especially nervous about their first meeting with a supposed vampire. No one knew what to expect from a vampire, the only person that they knew to ever meet a vampire was Hagrid. What they had heard from Hagrid wasn't very helpful either-due to the fact that he had gotten into a fight with a male vampire and had apparently lost the argument.

Upon entering the classroom, the trio were surprised to find the classroom had not changed very much since last year with their last professor, Professor Barrister. The massive dragon skeleton still hung from the rafters of the ceiling, and portraits of the former Dark Arts professors were still covering the bare walls. One thing had changed though, the classroom windows were boarded shut and several candles were floating above the students' heads. For a moment, Harry wondered what the new professor would have in her office...He pictured a gothic designed coffin with vials of different types of human blood in her office cupboards.

A cool breeze made Harry shudder as he took a seat next to Ron and Hermione, he exchanged nervous glances with them. "Well...here we go..." he whispered.

"What if she tries to bite us?" Neville Longbottom hissed to Harry and Hermione from far behind them; all of the Gryffindors surrounding them nodded in agreement. "What if she lures us into one of those trances that I always hear my grandmother talk about, where they put you into a hypnotic daze, huh?"

Dean Thomas shook his head at Neville and his finger at him. "The last time you trusted your grandmother about things that have to do with the Dark Arts you nearly ended up being attacked by that grindylow last year...because you offered it a piece of tuna..."

"How was I suppose to know that it was going to be offended if I offered it some fish!" Neville cried out in his defense.

Shaking his head even more at Neville, Dean glanced at Hermione and Harry and whispered something quickly to them so Neville could not hear. "I don't really know how you guys put up with it...but you guys must be very loyal to still stand next to him without worrying about something falling on top of your heads..." Dean folded his hands across his chest and remained silent for the rest of the semi-interesting conversation.

"Come on you guys...the new professor can't be that bad since Dumbledore told us that he selected her for the job, right?" Lavender Brown wanted to be as positive as possible about the new Dark Arts professor. "Right Hermione?" she nudged her fellow roommate with her pointy elbow to grab her attention from staring up at the dragon skeleton.

"Yes, quite right..." Hermione trailed off without even thinking about what she had just murmured. Above her head was the dragon skeleton, which wasn't anything new for her to see, but what was hanging down from the dragon's skull was definitely new. Due to the darkened room she wasn't really able to depict what was hanging down from the skull but she could tell that it was something large and furry. "Harry," she grabbed his wrist to catch his attention, "What is that hanging from the skull?"

Squinting his eyes at the skeleton high above his head for a moment, he adjusted his glasses twice before he finally came to a decision. "I think it's a...bat, Hermione..." he scratched the back of his head when he noticed her shudder in disgust, "I forgot that you don't like bats..."

"A bat? Where!" Lavender squeaked in a high-pitched voice at the same time Neville let out a little squeal of fright. "I hate bats...they are so revolting... I don't know what is worse-a rat...or a rat with leathery wings..." she muttered just before the candles above their heads blew out. Lavender immediately stopped speaking when they were all enveloped in the darkness-everyone felt very vulnerable right then. "What's going on?" she whispered to anyone that was still sitting around her.

"I believe you should give bats a second chance-they are lovely creatures once you get used to them," hissed a cold voice from behind the Gryffindors which made them all jump with fright. They heard a snapping sound and then the candles were burning once more; everyone could now see who was facing them.

Dressed in a black dress with matching black high-heeled boots, the vampire professor was a strange sight to behold. Apparently not believing in the classical witches' robes, she wore her dress cut down to her knees. Her blue hair was perfectly straight, swishing back and forth as she made her way to the front of the classroom. Fitting the main description of a vampire, her skin was deathly pallid but her appearance was very healthy-looking. She appeared to only be in her mid-thirties, but everyone knew that this could be a facade.

Whispers commenced as the students scrambled back into their proper seats, they kept one weary eye on the professor at all times. "Settle down...we have much to discuss since this is our very first class together." The blue-haired professor patiently waited for the whispers to fade away. "First off, my name is Professor Hunter...you may call me Miss, Professor, or Professor Hunter-either way will suffice. I highly suspect that most of you have never seen a vampire before...no wait-let me rephrase that...I suspect that most of you have never seen a creature that will admit they're a vampire. I am only a half vampire, so don't think that a simple Lumos spell will send me back to the darkness from whence I came."

"Now, for the requirements and what you will learn for the next year," she smiled with her sharp fangs shining in the candle light. Before she began, the creature that was perched on top of the dragon skeleton swooped down towards the students. Letting out a glass-shattering cry into the silent room, a furry black object floated above the students' weary heads. Gliding towards the professor, the bat flapped its leathery wings one final time to gain enough altitude. A large vampire bat landed on the professor's right shoulder with miniature goggles on the top of its head. Elegantly folding its wings before the students, the bat chirped something to its owner.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the bat pleasantly, "Before I forget, this is Quinn. He's a real sweetheart and he'll sometimes sit on your shoulders-if you permit him that is of course." Hunter lowered her voice as she spoke to the bat, the students all exchanged nervous glances when the bat suddenly nodded in reply as if it had an intelligent mind. Obeying its master, the bat took off after adjusting the goggles on his head with the delicate claws on the tips of its wings.

"The requirements for this class will be your 'Defense Against the Dark Arts for the Advanced' book, 'Dark and Mundane Creatures of the Magical World,' 'Curses of Black Magic,' and 'How To Defend Against the Darkest Creatures in the World.' You need all of these books by the next Hogsmeade trip...you all have a week to do so." She noticed all of the confused faces, "Why so many books you ask? We're going to cover extra material this year...we need to take extra precautions." The vampire glanced around to spot Hermione boldly holding her hand high in the air, "Yes...Miss Granger, correct?"

"Yes," Hermione was a bit stunned to find that the professor already knew her name. Biting her lip for a minute she asked for the purpose of the curses book, "We've already gone over curses, Professor Hunter..."

Hunter's icy eyes shone in the candlelight, "Then I'll expect even more out of your class, Miss Granger... We'll be having a lot of fun this year. Moving on...our schedule for the year will consist of studying dangerous half breeds like werewolves, vampires, redcaps-" she glanced back over at Hermione. "Yes, what is it Miss Granger?" It was apparent that the Dark Arts professor was becoming sick of Hermione being a know-it-all every possible second.

"We've already studied werewolves and vampires, Professor Hunter..." Hermione was trying to be as humble and subtle as possible with the vampire's patience.

Sighing, Hunter went over to Hermione's desk with an emotionless look in her black eyes. "Tell me Miss Granger-what have you not already learned in this class so I can teach it to you and your classmates?" When Hermione decided to keep her mouth shut this time, Hunter raised a questionable eyebrow at the student. "Let me guess who taught you all about werewolves and vampires-Professor Lupin...?" her voice grew cold when she said the werewolf's name.

Without thinking twice, Harry decided to stand up for his family's best friend, "Lupin was a great Dark Arts professor..." he narrowed his green eyes at the startled vampire.

For a moment the professor stared curiously at Harry as if she had discovered one of his weaknesses, "Remus Lupin is a kind fool. One that cowers behind others and keeps his nose stuck in books all the time. He may know about werewolves-I'll give him that much credit-but he knows nothing else about the Dark Arts." Turning back to Hermione, Hunter told Hermione to keep the rest of her comments to herself for the remaining hour.

Harry was fuming with anger now, "And how do you know all about the Dark Arts, professor?" He suddenly froze with fear when Hunter turned around and pointed at the doorway as she stared him down dangerously.

"Don't come back into my classroom until you learn to keep your thoughts to yourself and you learn some proper manners..." Hunter continued to point at the classroom door until Harry finally gathered all of his belongings and left his seat. When he paused at the doorway, she snapped her fingers so the wooden door would fling open and slam against the stone wall. "Out Mr. Potter!" Hunter growled as she glared darkly at him.

Storming out of the classroom, Harry was about to slam the door behind him when it suddenly decided to do it for itself. He stomped down the empty corridor with his face growing redder with every passing second. The Gryffindor was confused, angry, and worried all at the same time. She's dangerous...