Disclaimer – I wish I owned these wonderful characters, I really do, but sadly I really don't.

A/N – This story is set post Season 3A and so will include the Nogitsune story arc…sort of…

~ Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus ~

~ Chapter One ~

Entering what had until recently been Miss Blake's classroom left the various members of the Beacon Hills Pack feeling a little uncomfortable and on edge.

For the most part it was exactly the same as it had always been, it was a standard classroom after all, but there were enough differences to ease the tightness in their chests; the clock had been moved to the opposite end of the room so that the students could no longer see it without turning around, a second bookcase had appeared and both were now crammed full, the teachers desk was already a cluttered mess and a man's brown leather jacket was hung over the back of the teachers chair. Oh, and there were dragons everywhere; pictures, statues, a coffee mug, even what appeared to be an antique portrait of a handsome young man dressed in clothes of the Victorian era standing in front of a large blue scaled dragon.

"Think the new teacher has a thing for dragons?" Scott snorted as he dropped down into his chosen seat.

Stiles snorted, taking the table behind his best friend as Allison had already nabbed the one beside him. Isaac took the one on her other side whilst Lydia slid elegantly down into the seat beside Stiles.

"I think that's a bit of an understatement, Scotty," Stiles muttered as their classmates, equally as bemused by the décor, began taking their seats. "I think the phrase you should have used was 'Gee, think the new teachers obsessed with dragons?'"

Scott scowled back at his best friend as he protested,

"I do not say 'Gee', Stiles…"

"Anyone else feel like they're being watched?" Allison piped up before Stiles could respond.

As one they frowned, the two werewolves focusing on their enhanced senses for a moment.

"Yes," Scott eventually agreed with is ex-girlfriend. "But I can't…"

"Good morning, everyone," a deep, unfamiliar voice cut off the young werewolf's answer as their new English teacher strode into the room. "My name is Mr Weasley but I'd prefer it if you called me Charlie whilst inside my classroom; any time I hear someone call out 'Mr Weasley' I can't help but think my father's standing behind me."

Silence.

It was like the entire class was under some sort of spell, captivated by the handsome older man before them.

To call him broad-shouldered was an understatement.

Mr Weasley, or Charlie, wasn't particularly tall but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in muscle. In fact his arms were so muscular that his baby blue shirt was stretched so tight that the seams looked ready to burst at any moment.

He wore no tie and his shirt had the top three buttons undone, confirming that the heavy smattering of freckles adorning his somewhat weather-beaten face continued down the rest of his body, giving him the appearance of having a light tan.

Scott and Isaac's supernatural eyesight picked out every little scar adorning their teachers exposed skin whilst everyone else only picked up on the most visible ones; a split in his left eyebrow, a patch of twisted skin on the right side of his neck like it had been badly burnt and several raised scars on his fingers, knuckles and the backs of his large hands.

His legs, encased in smart black trousers, appeared to be just as muscular as his arms but only Lydia's gaze moved low enough to notice that he was wearing a pair of impossibly dark blue leather boots rather than the simple black shoes most teachers tended to wear.

"Now I'm unsure what you had begun with your previous teacher so you might as well forget it, wipe the slate clean so to speak," Charlie announced, running his fingers almost nervously through his messy red hair, causing it to stick up even more on that one side. "We're going to begin by analysing a piece of classic literature by an internationally renowned author; 'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen."

Stiles' hand shot up into the air.

"Yes, Mr…?"

"Stilinski, call me Stiles," the somewhat exhausted looking teenager responded with one of his trademark grins. "Are you English? Only you're definitely not American with that Mary Poppins accent you've got going on."

Charlie smiled, revealing a set of slightly crooked teeth.

"Yes, Mr Stilinski, I am English," the teacher confirmed without hesitation. "I grew up in a village called Ottery St Catchpole in Devon. That's on the South Coast, part of the West Country. I went to school in Scotland, however."

"Cool."

"I'm glad you think so, Mr Stilinski," Charlie responded, moving over to the new bookcase and retrieving a large stack of paperback books. "These are yours to keep so please make as many notes as you see fit. Take one and pass the rest on."

"How much do they cost?" Isaac piped up somewhat nervously.

"Nothing, Mr…?"

"Lahey. Isaac Lahey."

"Mr Lahey," Charlie echoed calmly. "They're excess stock from my last teaching post and already paid for."

His heart thumped out of rhythm causing both Isaac and Scott to frown slightly.

He was lying.

But…why?

"So once you've all got a copy let's get to work on chapter one with its famous opening line. Now, a volunteer to read aloud…" Charlie murmured, smiling as a few hands went up including Allison and Lydia's. "You, Miss…?"

"Argent," Allison supplied readily as she opened up her copy of the book. "Allison Argent."

"Thank you. Then if you would begin, Miss Argent?"

Allison cleared her throat discretely and then began to read aloud,

"It is a truth universally acknowledge, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."

His identification charm had detected the supernatural members of his first class as soon as he'd entered the room and by the end of the hour he had learned all of their names; Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey were both a sub-species of Werewolf and were obviously part of the same Pack. Lydia Martin was a Banshee and appeared to be in the same circle of friends as the two werewolves if the less that subtle communication during class was any indication.

Lastly there was Kira Yukimura, a new student who appeared to be struggling to make any friends as she spoke to no one and spent the hour staring wistfully at the other students.

She, his charm informed him, was a dormant Kitsune.

A sigh of relief escaped him as the door closed behind the final student to exit the classroom following the painfully loud bell.

Why had he agreed to this undercover assignment?

Teaching, even teaching muggles, was hard.

He'd finally returned to England after years of working abroad so as to be closer to his nieces and nephews, taking a position at the 'Ministry of Magic' in the 'Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures' back in 2006 shortly after the birth of Ron's daughter, Rose, and had been kept busy with assignments ranging from the painfully mundane to the alarmingly dangerous ever since.

That didn't stop him missing his dragons, however, so regular visits to the reserve had become part of his routine.

"Don't you have to prepare for your next class, Mr Weasley?"

The teasing voice of his former mentor, sadly lost in a horrific accident a year before Charlie had left the reserve, emanated from the now moving portrait hanging on the wall. Hallam, his mentor, had turned to give Beatrice, his favourite dragon, the attention she deserved.

"No, I have a free period to recover from that one, thank Merlin," Charlie sighed deeply, dropping down into his seat. "Why did I take this assignment?"

Hallam chuckled.

"Because your brother asked you to," the former head of the dragon reserve answered simply. "And because your boss ordered you to."

"…fair point."

Percy, recently promoted to Head of the 'Department of Magical Transportation', had come to him the day before he'd received official notification of the assignment. He had become a highly respected member of the Ministry in the years following the 'Battle of Hogwarts' and was one of Kingsley's trusted advisors during the Ministers second non-consecutive term.

He had explained in his clear, clinical way, that President Quahog of the MACUSA ('Magical Congress of the United States of America') had personally requested their assistance due to the number of dark and/or magical creatures involved. The Ministry, as everyone knew, was decades ahead of the MACUSA in these sort of matters due to their early restrictions regarding beasts and other magical creatures such as those he had already come across in the town of Beacon Hills. In fact, up until thirty or so years ago, helping a so called dark creature such as a werewolf or a banshee was a punishable offence in America.

"The town of Beacon Hills, California has had an unprecedented rise in the number of so called supernatural events," Percy had explained, using his wand to conjure up a map in order to show the exact location of the town along with a list of the instances. "It has become so bad that the MACUSA fears exposure; a number of muggles are already aware and/or involved with the dark creatures now residing in the town."

"And what's the assignment?" Charlie had asked, his voice growing sharper with each word as he had made his disapproval of the MACUSA's continued use of the death penalty had been perfectly clear. "Capture? Control? Contain? Or do they want me to make it go away?"

That he could never understand.

"No," Percy had stated clearly, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of his expensive looking robes. "Monitor the situation but only intervene if completely necessary and by that I mean necessary for either the safety of the town or the secrecy of your charges."

"My charges?!"

"Yes. Consider yourself the Head of the 'Beacon Hills Reserve for Supernatural Creatures.'"

He'd debated turning the assignment down all evening but in the end had merely nodded his head when his boss had officially informed him about it.

His reasoning?

At least he trusted his morals enough regarding the safety and continued of all those involved in the situation.

No one had mentioned exactly what his cover story would entail, however, and if he ever found out whoever it was who had come up with the whole replacement English teacher angle he would give them a piece of his mind.

"So I counted three…"

"Four," Charlie corrected the portrait, gesturing to where the four children had been sitting as he listed the various species. "Two Werewolves, a Banshee and a dormant Kitsune."

"Ah," Hallam muttered. "I missed the Kitsune. Good luck with that one if it comes online."

Charlie groaned, banging his head on the cluttered desk.

He'd never met a Kitsune in person but he'd read enough about them to know how dangerous they could be, both before they'd learned to control their gifts and afterwards. It was painfully common to hear about Kitsune's going bad, corrupted by their power.

"Do you think that's all of them?"

Charlie snorted.

"Not by a long shot…"

A/N – So…I probably shouldn't have started another story but…oh well. What's one more? LOL. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Haven't made my mind up about relationships as of yet as I quite like the idea of Charlie being asexual but I also kind of like the idea of pairing him up with Sheriff Stilinski or Jordan Parrish so comments & suggestions are more than welcome. X