Disclaimer: Virtually everything you read is the property of JK Rowling. Kaira is my invention, as are a couple of scattered bits and bobs, but generally, it's all JKR's. So There.
Prologue"Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight.
Where ignorant armies clash by night."
- Dover Beach, Matthew Arnold
He watched in satisfaction as the woman made her way to platform 9 ¾ on the path that led to Hogwarts. His plan had worked; the carefully laid weave had formed a pattern. It would all happen the way he had planned. She would go to Hogwarts, and they would need her. One, particularly. It would all happen as he had planned and he would watch to make sure it progressed as it should.
Chapter One – the Land of Dreams
Kaira Elmsford was a little nervous. After being offered the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts several months ago (after a thoroughly disconcerting interview with the Headmaster that had left her with the impression that he knew what she was thinking), she had not been back to the castle. She had seen only a handful of the other teachers and certainly had met no students. And with the record the school had for Defence teachers, she felt entitled to be a little jittery. She ticked them off on her fingers. Professor Quirrel, who had been working for the Dark Lord. Professor Lockhart, who had accidentally got oblivated. Professor Lupin, who had been a werewolf. Professor Moody, who had in fact not been Professor Moody at all. And, of course, Professor Umbridge. Five teachers in as many years. There had to be a reason. But still, she had always wanted to teach and Hogwarts was the best place to do it.
She was waiting at platform 9¾, as per Professor Dumbledore's instructions, and was, for once, early. There were a few other early students waiting with parents, mostly first years as far as she could see. They seemed impossibly young, and she wondered how on earth she could teach them, especially about the Dark Arts! And then there was the whole question of the sixth year class that seemed to get into so much trouble. The year that contained Harry Potter. She sighed.
Before that train of thought could make her too melancholy, another train arrived. The Hogwarts express. Gratefully, she gave up her cold bench and found herself an empty compartment and settled down to watch the scenery.
She was soon disabused of any notion that she might have a peaceful journey, when a group of unruly second years took the compartment opposite, and a quieter group finally joined hers. Gritting her teeth and looking studiously out of the window, the journey passed.
When she got out of the train, she noticed Professor McGonagall, one of the few teachers she had actually been introduced to. As Deputy Head, she had been on an errand when she was having her interview.
"Ah, Professor Elmsford," she said cheerily. "Welcome to Hogwarts!"
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," she replied, smiling back at the formidable Scotch woman, whose bun for once was threatening to unravel.
"Please, it's Minerva," McGonagall breezed. "The house elves will take your cases up to your rooms. If you would care to watch the sorting, I'll take you along to the Great Hall!"
"Thank you Minerva," Kaira was grateful. "My name's Kaira."
But Minerva had been distracted by the first years, whom she was ushering in the direction of a huge figure who was booming:
"Firs' years! Firs' years follow me!"
"That's Hagrid," Minerva said, following Kaira's gaze. "He teaches Care of Magical Creatures."
"I'm sure he's admirably suited," she grinned.
Minerva laughed.
"I'll take you to the Great Hall. Most of the teachers will already be seated when the students enter. Myself and Hagrid are the exceptions. The returning students will come in next, and finally the first years."
Kaira was still as impressed with the castle as she had been the first time she had seen it. It was amazingly beautiful. None of it seemed to be of the same date to any other part, but it was beautiful nonetheless. She admired it as covertly as possible, as Minerva who saw the same view every day would hardly be impressed. She was surprised, then, when Minerva stopped suddenly.
"I never tire of looking at it," she said, gazing fondly at the castle. "Look, you can see the divination tower. Looks as if Sybil's up to no good again,"
"Sybil?"
"Sybil Trelawny, our Divination teacher."
Minerva led her into the castle and along a tangled nest of corridors to the Great Hall. It was empty except for the teachers at the high table at the front of the hall. Dumbledore rose to greet her.
"My dear, welcome to Hogwarts!"
"Thank you, Headmaster," she replied.
"Everyone, this is Kaira Elmsford, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,"
There was a collection of 'hello's waves and smiles from all but one of the faces. That face belonged to a pale man with shoulder length black hair. He looked decidedly unfriendly. In fact, he looked at her as if she... well she didn't know, but something terrible. It was a glare that looked as if, turned up a notch, could literally kill.
She took her place at the table next to a smiling witch who introduced herself as Professor Sprout, herbology. Sprout took upon herself the task of pointing out all of the teachers along the row.
"Well, next to me is Hooch, the flying coach (watch out for her, she has a temper)..."
"I heard that, Sprout!"
"And along from her," Sprout continued blithely, ignoring Hooch completely, "is Professor Sinistra of astronomy, Vector from Arithmancy..." Kaira tried to commit the names to memory so that she wouldn't have to ask again. Finally, Sprout came to the black-haired wizard who had glared at her. "That's Snape, the potions master. Head of Slytherin, too. Very gifted of course, but, well. Um. Not the nicest of people to speak to. I'd avoid him, dear." She moved on quickly. "You know Dumbledore of course, and past him is..."
She heard the sound of a huge student body marching along the corridor and soon the hall was filled with noisy children who all gravitated to their tables. Kaira knew about the houses, of course, and wondered what house she would have been sorted into. Ravenclaw, perhaps? Maybe Gryffindor, or even Hufflepuff. The noise abated by the old students was abated when the new students were ushered in by Minerva and Hagrid. The Sorting began.
She watched in fascination as the students were allocated to their houses by the Hat. It looked such a disreputable garment that she was surprised it was able to differentiate, but evidently it could. The students all looked proud to join their houses and they did look a little like their archetypes. The Gryffindors looked proud and reckless, the Ravenclaws studious, the Hufflepuffs solid and friendly and the Slytherins, well, sly.
When the sorting had finished, Professor Dumbledore gave his customary 'welcome back and welcome first years' speech.
"Finally, I'd like to introduce to you your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Elmsford." She stood up and smiled. There was a smattering of polite applause. "And now, the feast!"
Professor Dumbledore hadn't lied in the interview when he'd bribed her with the idea of the wonderful food served daily at Hogwarts. The food was every bit as delicious as he'd claimed. She hoped it really was every day, and not just for the beginning of term feast!
When the feast was ended and the students packed off to their dormitories, Professor Dumbledore beckoned her over.
"I'll have a house-elf show you to your rooms, Kaira," he said, smiling at her. "I'm sure you must be tired. I'll send her again to fetch you in the morning and show you to the staff room."
"Thanks, Professor," she said.
"Don't mention it, my dear," he twinkled and left her to it.
Her rooms were perfect: there was a huge expanse of empty bookshelves waiting for her to unpack her specially compressed trunk (there were a few too many books she could not live without) and were tastefully decorated. But instead of admiring it, she sank into bed and was soon asleep.
She knew no more until the following morning, when she woke to see that she had a mere ten minutes to get ready. Panicking a little, she threw on her robes, plaited her hair to keep it tidy and looked at herself critically in the mirror.
"You'll do, dear," it told her.
"Thank you," she replied, trying to glare at it without glaring at herself: a feat that seemed to be impossible. She had a muggle mirror at home.
The elf arrived dead on time and led her through the labyrinthine corridors to the staff room. She was the last to arrive. She spotted an empty seat near to Sprout and made for it, noting the surly Snape lurking in a corner that somehow contrived to be shadowy. He seemed to prefer it like that.
Dumbledore beamed at her.
"Good morning, my dear. Sleep well?"
"Very well, thank you Professor,"
"Good, good. I'll have someone show you your classroom later." He turned to the rest of the room. "First on the agenda..."
Kaira's classroom and office turned out to be as suitable as her rooms. The office had yet more bookshelves, regrettably these were already filled. However, on closer examination, the books turned out to be ones that she would find useful.
Well, it is the Defence Against the Dark Arts's teacher's office! She told herself. Of course the books are going to be relevant.
Her first class, she noted, was the sixth year class of Gryffindors and Slytherins. How nice. Why on earth were those two houses so often put together? It was a recipe for disaster! She read through her lesson plans and made sure everything was ready and waited for the class to arrive.
"Good morning," she greeted them, when they finally finished arriving. "Today's class is on..."
The class was proceeding quite well when she heard a clearly audible whisper from the blond haired boy near the back whom she had ticked off for talking a few minutes earlier.
"How's she supposed to teach us the Dark Arts anyway?"
"Mr Malfoy, is it?" she asked, her voice as menacing as she could make it. "I think I am qualified. I have a degree level certificate, am a fully trained Auror and also have had a personal acquaintance with a user of the Dark Arts. Well, ex-user, now."
Malfoy looked at her in disgust.
"Ten points from Slytherin." She moved on.