(A/N): Hey Guys! Now, I know I haven't posted to any story, especially this one for a long while now, but I've been super busy with writing my new trilogy, which is about World War III. But, as it's me, super-powers are involved. Also, I barely get any sleep nowadays and I have to work on my dad's laptop because mine is simply atrocious to work with. Sorry it took so long! Also, I would like to say that, while this is still set at the start of Harry's sixth year, it's also set after an edited version of Inheritance. So, it's like Inheritance, but not. Like, I changed a few things I thought would make this story easier to write and would make more sense to me.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the subplot line and the new trilogy I'm writing.

Murtagh

I woke up the next morning at ten, dressing myself in a pair of black skinny jeans, a white, short sleeved, v-neck t-shirt with a blood red hooded shirt on top. After all, Scotland was cold this time of year. I made sure I brushed my teeth and put the pre-cooked spaghetti meal in my magically resized leather messenger bag, the only thing I would be bringing with me to Hogwarts, seeing as everything fit. I slipped the messenger bag over my head and drank a glass of milk (yes, I know, lame, but healthy bones are important to me). Taking one last glance at the clock, I turned on my heel and disappeared, wincing at the constricted feeling as I landed, shaking it off before entering King's Cross Station. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching me, I slipped into the pillar between platform nine and ten, onto platform nine and three quarters. A grin spread across my lips as I stared up at the Hogwarts Express for the first time in seventeen years. What with the lateness of my appointment, I was forced to take the express, not that I was really complaining. It's not like I had bothered learning how to drive after all. I hopped up the steps to the passage along the train and, seeing as it was only 10:20, got a seat in the carriage I want, the last one in the train. I sat alone, reading one of my favorite books, Shakespeare's The Tragedy of Macbeth. I sat there for a good half hour, simply reading before the train started moving, and three teenagers, one a red-head boy, clearly a Weasley, a slightly bushy, brown haired girl with big brown eyes and an intelligent look to her, and a boy with unruly, jet black hair, bright green eyes hidden behind spectacles, and from beneath his fringe I could see a lightning star. Harry Potter. He looks so much like James and Lily. I resisted the urge to tell him this, knowing it would creep him out, seeing as I looked barely nineteen, not nearly old enough to have met his mother or father.

"Excuse me?" I glanced up again, staring at them with a small smile on my face. "Everywhere else is full." The girl said, glancing behind her at Harry before glancing back to me. "Can we sit with you?" I nodded, staying silent but watching them from over the book, dropping my stare when I reminded myself that they weren't a threat.

"Um…" The red-haired boy mumbled nervously, clearing his throat quietly, looking back at the girl as she nudged him forward. "My name's Ron Weasley, and this is Hermione Granger. Obviously, that's Harry Potter," he jerked his thumb to Harry as he sat in the corner blushing slightly at the attention. "You know him of course. What's your name? And house?" I smirked at them, glancing between them before sitting up, snapping my book shut and stuffing it back in my messenger bag, not missing the look on Hermione's face when she read the title.

"Macbeth? I've read that. A real tragedy if you ask me, not one of those cheap sob-stories you'd find at the airport. I take you're muggle-born then? So am I." The smirk was replaced with a grin and I sat up straighter.

"Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff, and damned be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!" I recited, staring at her with the same smile, though this time slightly mocking as she raised an eyebrow, and I swear I heard her mutter under her breath, "Oh lord, I've finally found a boy who likes books as much as I do!"

"As an answer to your earlier question Ron, my names Murtagh Morzansson. As for my house, the last time I was at Hogwarts I was Gryffindor, but seeing as I'm a teacher now, I don't think that really matters." Ron, Harry and Hermione's eyebrows rose to the point I thought they were going to disappear under their hair, but somehow they remained visible.

"You're a bit young to be a teacher, aren't you?" Harry spluttered, staring at me, his eyebrows still raised, his glasses magnifying his eyes even further.

"I'm older than I look." I said with a chuckle, folding my hands in my lap as they looked skeptical. Nice, very vague. I can't believe you're leaving me again. Thorn growled sarcastically in my head, and I could practically feel him glaring at me. Well, I can't exactly take you with me, can I? Not if you don't want Hagrid and everyone else gawking at you. I could feel Thorn scowling pathetically and resisted the urge to chuckle. He was currently flying high above the train, probably as slowly as he possibly go.

"And how old is that?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised, her eyes squinting at me suspiciously.

"Well, let me put it this way, I was friends with James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew." I spat the last name, ignoring their shocked looks. "I guess I better be careful, I used to bully Snape, and now you never know where that greasy bastard is hiding." Ron snorted, trying to hold back his laughter as Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Wait, I thought all the posts had been filled. What are you going to teach?" Hermione asked, once again suspiciously.

"My lesson is a cross between Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts." The three teens shred a glance between each other and gulped silently.

"Uh…sir, you do know the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts post is cursed, right?" Harry Asked quietly, probably hoping to warn me before I went and got myself killed.

"Don't worry Harry, I'm not that easy to get rid of." I raised an eyebrow slowly, hinting to the fact that Professor Dumbledore had told me to follow Harry wherever he went, to make sure he didn't get himself hurt or in trouble.

(A/N): Again, I'm so sorry I didn't update sooner, but please review!