A/N: Welcome! I hope that you enjoy reading this story. As mentioned in the summary this story will alternate between past and present, however I will specify as to which timeline the part of the chapter is. This first chapter is relatively short, but I promise that the following chapters will be longer. Please R&R.
(Present)
Hogwarts; a school where many students come to learn the magical arts of Wizards and Witches and leave highly skilled, prepared to defend the world of the magical and Muggle against the dark arts that threaten the peace of their state. Even though Muggles are not aware of the hard work that Witches and Wizard put in to protect the world, there are some who do possess magical abilities. Even though the allowance of Muggles into Hogwarts and other magical institutions is a controversial topic within the realm of magic in the world, it has become accepted over time. This can all be contributed events that occurred years ago at the number one school for magic, the castle that can only be accessed via the express named after the titular school, which is found on an island, isolated from all other buildings. This is Hogwarts. And this night is a once in a lifetime opportunity for many, as it is the sorting ceremony. A new group of first-year students are just outside the giant doors to the Great Hall, waiting to walk in and receive the annual welcome from the Headmaster, staff and current students, who sat at their respective house tables of Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, lining the incredibly long hall, students filling almost every seat.
Sitting close to the end of the table that was placed in the front of the hall, Aizawa Shouta was huddled into his long, black cloak and robes, an old grey knit scarf wrapped snugly around his neck and his black hair tied back, off of his face so he could be somewhat presentable to the group of both incoming and returning students. The noise of chattering students catching up from a long summer break and his coworkers and friends Yamada Hizashi and Kayama Nemuri chatting loudly together joined together in Aizawa's ears, irritating the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Sighing deeply, Aizawa opened his eyes, glancing over at Hizashi and Nemuri to see them spot this attempt at ignoring everyone to simply get through the sorting ceremony. It was at this moment, he knew he should have kept his eyes shut.
"Aye, Shouta! You're finally awake! Just in time for the ceremony," Hizashi cheered, leaning over to his friend and placing an arm around his shoulders, knowing that these actions pushed Aizawa's buttons. Unfortunately for Aizawa, he couldn't blast away Hizashi, so he let him do this, plotting for later. Grunting softly, Aizawa shrugged while flicking his sight back to the doors, anticipating the arrival of the new students. It seems like Thirteen must be dealing with more difficult students this year, considering her welcome speech usually doesn't take much time.
"Great," Shouta muttered, "another ceremony. Why can't we just get through this without all the pomp and circumstance?"
Nemuri rolled her eyes, leaning toward Aizawa before arguing, "Shouta, you know how much this means for students. Besides, I heard that a few Muggle-born children were accepted this year." Aizawa's eyebrow shot up at this. Even though Hogwarts preached about the acceptance in its environment, Aizawa saw that it would take much more than letting one or two muggle-borns in. Before he could reply, Nemuri cut him off once more with a deep sigh, placing her chin in her palm as she leaned on the table, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Don't you remember our time here?" she asked, reminiscing upon their shared past, "It was…extraordinary." Hizashi nodded with enthusiasm, starting to talk about their times, but Nemuri's statement made Aizawa's mind and sight wander away from his house table to another; Gryffindor's. It was the sight of many brave young men and women sitting at that table that brought Aizawa back to his time at Hogwarts as a student. They knew of one of the most famous figures that came from their house. The story was that of a legend, it was a rite-of-passage to hear about the All Might. His real name was unknown to many, but Aizawa knew the entire story, considering he was apart of it.
Before Shouta could continue with this reminiscing of his, the door opened, and the crowd of students walking in with Thirteen leading them. Here they were, the future. It would take time, but looking at them Aizawa could tell that there was potential. That, or he could simply put in a recommendation to expel those who did not display such promise. Shouta was no stranger to doing that. Perhaps it could be considered cruel to some, but to him, that was just how the world worked. It was cruel, it took without a second thought. Shouta was all too aware of the unfair circumstances of the world and the people that inhabited it. Eyes returning to the Gryffindor table, Shouta swore he saw the lanky body and unruly blonde hair of Toshinori, but blinking a few times in surprise the sight went away. Great, his own eyes and mind were turning against him.
"Hey, the Headmaster is talking," Hizashi whispered, urging his friend to pay attention to Nezu's welcome speech to the students. The animagus was eccentric in his welcome message, his body shaking slightly at the prospect of new students and the talent they all had.
"Right, just let me think," Shouta murmured, placing his arms on the table, holding his hands together as he tried to distract his mind with thoughts that weren't about what he was currently missing. Squeezing his hands tightly, releasing the tension, then repeating those steps, Aizawa was trying his hardest to think of anything other than sunflowers and blue skies.
Scanning over the crowd of newcomers, a small boy caught Aizawa's eyes. His wild green hair, freckled face, and a small, anxious body was certainly something that he felt he might have to challenge. No true hero grew without a real struggle. And, here at Hogwarts, that is exactly what Shouta planned to implement in his class.