Professor Trestle

(A/N: Wow, it's been AGES since I've written for this story. Yet, like I told the rest of my fans, I've been having a social life, and I have an amazing boyfriend who takes up a lot of my time. Also, the punctuation was a problem for these chapters because the program I used to write those wouldn't show punctuation on websites. It was weird, but I have a new program now, and I believe I've improved with my writing capabilities. No longer am I that little thirteen-year-old girl who was just an amateur at this website; I think I've improved. Unfortunately, I believe a lot of my fans may have moved on from FanFiction… How depressing. But, please read and review. I'll have a new story once I finish the rest of them! Or maybe I'll delete one and add another. Anyway, if there are typos in here, it's only because I sliced the tip of my finger in cooking class yesterday, and it's kind of difficult to type now. Anyway, read, review and enjoy!)

Hermione stared blankly at McGonagall's face, searching for any sign of an "I'm just kidding" look in her stern, serious eyes. Unfortunately, there was none.

"Are you joking? You're asking me to be a chaser? I mean… that flying I did last week… it was all a joke! I could never lead up to the skills to be a Gryffindor Quidditch chaser," Hermione stuttered, snapping her head around to face me.

My eyes were wide as I stared back at Hermione, and then turned my attention to McGonagall. "Are you sure she's ready?"

"Well you and Mr. Weasley are on the team, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you two could show her your tricks of Quidditch?" McGonagall replied, folding her hands neatly on her desk.

I slowly nodded, squeezing Hermione's hand in mine. My girlfriend was going to be a chaser? I always saw Hermione as the type of girl who hangs around the library rather than flying after speeding bludgers. If anything, I was more concerned about her safety than her skills. After what happened during the Quidditch match in our second year, I didn't think a Quidditch match was the position I wanted Hermione to play.

"But Professor, maybe she would serve well as a referee or assistant captain or something…?" I asked hopefully, feeling Hermione's confused eyes emblazing mine.

"Mr. Potter, let's simply put it this way. If Mr. Weasley and you can turn Ms. Granger into a professional chaser by the end of the week, she will be warmly welcomed onto the team. If not, then I will reconsider." McGonagall cracked her knuckles loudly as she picked up her griffin-feather quill and began to scribble a long paragraph on a scroll, indicating that we should leave.

Once Hermione and I were safely out of McGonagall's office, we looked at one another questioningly.

"Are you sure I'm ready for this? I mean… I don't know, Harry, this is all so soon." Hermione nervously chewed on her finger nail, a habit I had never seen her do. Reassuringly, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"You'll do fine," I murmured into her hair. Hermione smiled and wrapped her arm around my waist, following me as I led her to the common room.

The following morning was cooler than normal September mornings: I woke up to see frost gathering in the corners of the boy's dormitory windows, and Ron's snores were followed by his teeth chattering from the cold. As I stretched my arms over my head, I realised Ron and I were the only ones left in the dormitories, and by the look of the sunrise outside it was only around 7 a.m.

"Ron, wake up," I whispered, climbing out of bed and shaking my best friend awake. His snores stopped abruptly as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"What? Where are the other guys?" he asked, glancing around the dormitory.

"I don't know, let's go check," I responded.

Hurriedly, we threw off our pyjamas and slipped into our school uniforms, collecting our wands from our bedside tables and rushing into the common room. A few first and second year girls were crowded around the fireplace, shivering as they remained in their pyjamas. Seamus and Neville were whispering quietly in the corner, glancing around the common room randomly to see if anyone was listening before proceeding with the conversation. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were sitting in the arm chairs, sipping mugs of warm Butterbeer and laughing at a joke they must have told.

"Harry! Did you hear?" Hermione's voiced called out to me from behind, causing me to turn around to search for her. It didn't take long, since she ran up to us and kissed me fully on the lips.

"Hear what?" I asked after I kissed her back.

"The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is arriving today! Everyone's so excited to see who it is. He or she is going to be here at seven-thirty, and I've been up well-past five myself," Hermione said hurriedly, smiling boldly for someone who'd only had 5 hours of sleep. She was already dressed in her school robes with her hair pulled back in a loose, falling-out ponytail, and her enormous smile told me she was well beyond excited.

Although, I had to admit, I was rather excited to see the new arrival myself. Even though I didn't have Defence Against the Dark Arts until February, it was going to be exciting to see who the new teacher was; it always was.

Suddenly, the portrait hole burst open and a flustered-looking Dean Thomas stumbled in, smiling happily as he tried to catch his breath. "He's… here…," he stuttered.

The common room was silent for a moment before everyone ran out of the portrait hole at once, causing a group of fifth-year boys to get stuck at one point and the rest of us to push them through.

"What on Earth is going on here?" the fat lady snapped loudly as she was shoved aside.

"New teacher!" Seamus yelled back at her, speeding down the sets of stairs.

I held on tightly to Hermione's hand, who held onto Ron's to lead him through the crowd, who was holding onto Ginny's. The train of us sped through the crowd, shoving past tiny first-years and reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the doors to the main entrance were wide open, causing cold air to billow through the corridors. Hermione's hand shivered under mine, and I pulled her closely to embrace her in my arms, resting my chin against the top of her head as we watched through the open doors.

A tall, wide dark brown carriage with red and gold bars surrounding it stood through the doorway. Four pure white unicorns were strapped to the front of the carriage, each one chewing fondly on blades of grass below them as the door to the carriage opened. I held my breath tightly, waiting desperately for the new arrival.

At first, no one came out; until we saw the threads of black that seemed rather billowy in the wind appear. I squinted my eyes to make out who was inside but realised it was, in fact, a dementor.

Hermione screamed in shock and stared up at the dementor, too terrified to make a move. In fact, the whole Gryffindor clan just stood there to stare. The cold, sunken face of the dementor grew closer and closer towards the crowds of Hogwarts students, and the air became even colder.

"Expecto Patronum!" a voice cried out in the crowd behind us. I turned briefly to see Amelia Forthword, a sixth-year Ravenclaw girl, attempt to produce a patronus, but it was no luck; the head of an iguana slid out of the tip of her wand, dangled from the wand for a few moments, and disappeared into wind.

Without a second thought, I released Hermione and took hold of my wand, pointing it directly towards the sunken face of the dementor and held my breath before screaming, at the top of my lungs, "Expecto Patronum!" The silvery stag slid out of the tip of my wand and charged towards the dementor, picking it up with its antlers and charging off with it.

Out of breath slightly I realised the wand and caught my breath, sliding my wand back into my pocket. Hermione and the rest of the crowd cheered, patting me on the back and congratulating my success.

"Excellent work, my boy! What a tricky obstacle for you all," an unfamiliar male voice said from in front of us. I lifted my head up slowly to see a man of average height and a slim figure in front of me. His hair was black and messy, and he had steely blue eyes that would consistently change colours. He wore navy blue robes over a black vest and white button-up, and retrieved the dementor into a large wooden case under his arm. Behind him, house-elves carried in the remainders of his suitcase.

"Hello, fellow Hogwarts students. My name is Professor Trestle, your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," the main said.

(A/N: Hoped you enjoyed it. Read and review, and tell me what you think! I know it's a longer chapter for this story than usual, I hope, but there'll be longer ones to come!)