Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of Doctor Who in any way, shape or form.
The smell of parchment and ink permeated the air. Tables were set out in several rows, awaiting the students who would sit and listen to the theories presented to them. The tables wouldn't stay for long however, as the class couldn't possibly function the entire time without making some floor room. After all, Defense Against the Dark Arts was not a class one could merely read and write their way through.
Professor River Song savored the silence, aware that come the first day of school, there would be very little peace to be had. The scratch of her quill, once an annoyance, had become a soothing metronome of sound.
The creak of metal alerted her to the entrance of another into her realm, eyes alighting on one of the figures she did not mind. Professor McGonagall had a peculiar way of walking that gave the impression of gliding and marching all at once, a trait River admired from their first meeting. The elderly woman carried herself with all the power and grace that River knew was well earned.
"Good evening, Minerva", River greeted with a smile. McGonagall mirrored the sentiment in her own brisk way and got right down to what she was obviously burning to say.
"River, I don't want to say this in any way that may come across as less than pleasant, but I am going to nonetheless." Despite her words, the woman hesitated, prompting a raised eyebrow from the younger. "We have provided you sanctuary for many years now, and I know you have told us that you hold information that you cannot share. While you have posed no threat, and even helped on several occasions, I cannot help but be wary of you becoming a teacher. It is one thing to assist on the grounds, or running errands, but it is entirely another when you are educating." River burned to interrupt, but could not bring herself to cut through the woman's words. "I merely have to ask, is there anything you know of that is an immediate threat to our world?"
Taken aback by the frankness of the inquiry, though not showing it, River could not help but wonder if she had given something away. As of late, she had certainly felt the nerves building, most especially as she was very sure that she knew many of the events that were going to happen very soon. When she had first 'arrived', crumpled on the floor, and then awakening to faces she should not know, she had firmly believed she was trapped in some sort of simulation. Certainly, magic must exist somewhere, but this?
This was a story. A well written story. As she had murmured, speaking names without realizing the truth in which she had awoken, she had been labeled a spy and a seer amongst other things. But River was a smart woman, and it didn't take very long to convince the teachers and the Headmaster himself of her innocence. Well, relative innocence. She explained with a story half true that she was a time traveler, stuck outside of her world and time. Of course, she might have fibbed a bit, claiming very little memory, but that was merely a necessary evil.
Ten years ago she had fallen from the world she knew and smack dab into the middle of what River used to believe was just a story. She should have known better. All stories have a basis in truth.
"Minerva.." Over the years River had formed a sort of bond with the somewhat austere woman, one that she had not expected in the slightest. It was this bond alone that had allowed her to eventually grasp onto a teaching position and hold it tight, albeit as an assistant. It was also this bond that prompted a rather severe amount of guilt that only built over the years.
The night she had fallen into this world was only a month before the Dark Lord would fail to kill a child, sending him into a half alive state and putting into motion the events that would form a certain book series with which River was mostly familiar. She could have stopped the deaths of the Potters and possibly stopped many other killings as well. However, if she had done this, it would have changed everything, and then River would be left as out of touch as anyone in this world who was living it all for the first time.
That was simply unacceptable.
River had not seen the child, but she had heard that he was left with his family. She felt guilt. And that also was unacceptable. She had doomed a childhood, much as her own was doomed from the start, and though it would improve, there were many hardships ahead for the young Harry Potter.
Pushing a smile onto her face, all innocence, River shook her head in the direction of the elder witch she had come to respect.
"Spoilers."
River had to suppress a grunt of irritation as the Sorting Hat droned on. The first time she had watched the hat open its slit and sing, it was captivating. The tenth time, it was tedious. Never mind that the song changed each year. She could come up with a song herself if she wanted a new one.
Singing songs makes me so bored
I'd rather face the darkest lord
Than sit right here for one more second
And…
Scowling inwardly at her inability to come up with a suitable rhyme, River glanced down the table. Each teacher seemed content enough to listen, clapping politely as the hat completed. River clapped the very loudest, just grateful the thing had finally finished.
The sorting itself was much more interesting, most especially this year. Several names seemed vaguely familiar, others not so much, but it was the Golden Trio that truly caught her attention. The little girl, the one who was supposedly so brilliant, River was quite excited to see in action. Hermione held herself with more confidence than River had expected from a child, until the shaking of her hands gave her away. As the word GRYFFINDOR rang out, the relieved girl ran off with the hat, causing a round of giggles.
There were more names that River recognized and only partially paid any attention to, seeing as she already knew their fates. When the Potter boy was called, River watched the hat sharply, knowing the inner battle that was raging. She had never been sorted herself, and it had been a source of curiosity immediately after her arrival, but that curiosity had settled over the years. She was who she decided to be, and that was good enough.
River managed to keep her eyes focused on the incoming students for the most part as the sorting slowly came to a close, lingering over those three she had come to know through words. It would be an interesting adventure, the next 7 years. And River just loved adventures.
To be honest, this will likely remain as a one shot, unless I get inspired.
