Prologue, A Special Request
... knock, knock, knock ...
Harry considered ignoring the thumping at his front door, he also considered disguising himself appropriately. But, he decided it wasn't really worth the effort. Instead he took a deep breath and resigned himself to the inevitable intrusion.
... knock, knock, knock ...
The door shuttered and then creaked as it opened under the force of a careful spell. A woman, dressed in a long robe streaked with purple hues swept into the small cabin embedded seamlessly in a wooded grove. It had taken her quite a bit of time and effort to find the place. Although the evidence of age deeply engraved her face, her eyes were still sharp. She spotted Harry and pursed her lips in a frown.
"I sent you several owls. The messages were sent back to me, unread."
He nodded. "I know what you want, and I'm not interested."
She sighed. "Look, I know it's been hard for you since Ginny died. I really do and I of all people understand. If I had the luxury of letting you continue to sink into depression, my god I would leave you to it, but I need you."
Harry frowned. "You don't need me. There're more than a few daredevil young wizards who would gladly fill the position."
"Think about it Harry. Please. I haven't had a Defense against the Dark Arts professor survive for an entire term in eight years. I don't want to be responsible for another death. This has happened before and it proved a dark sign. Don't you remember?"
"So you want me to serve as bait?" he asked softly.
"Yes."
Harry closed his eyes. "Hermione, I'm old."
"So am I," she hissed. "It doesn't stop me from serving as headmistress."
Harry paused. If she were right, perhaps whatever curse had reignited would fall on him. At this point in Harry's life, he was hardly running from the final curtain call. To be fair, he'd embrace an easy end.
"My great grand-son is starting Hogwarts this year," he said. "I don't talk to that one much. Well, I don't talk to anyone much these days. No one wants to hear me wax on about the glory days."
Hermione snorted. "I try not to talk about the old days. Our actions have been reduced to history texts."
"It's fine for you to say that. You've gained significance with the years."
"Harry, please," she said again.
"Can I live in Hagrid's cottage?"
She laughed, relief flooding into her voice. "It's been abandoned for decades. You'll have your work cut out for you if you plan to restore it."
"Did you know I would give in?"
"I hoped."
"Do you have any idea what's behind the deaths?"
She sighed and collapsed into the sofa beside Harry and buried her head in her hands. Her hair had gone white, with only a few strands of auburn left, and it curled rebelliously around her fingers. "I have no idea. They just appear to be random coincidences. But they aren't. They can't be. The world doesn't work like that."
He nodded. "I'm surprised you don't have a few ideas."
"So am I. I need a man on the ground. I can never trust the young teachers, well not fully, not like I trust you. I'm certain we can figure it out, if we work together."
"I need to put a few affairs in order first. I should be able to arrange it so that I arrive a week before the term starts."
"That would be fine, Harry. I'm just so glad you've agreed."