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Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and places from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by JK Rowling. However, this work is my own and is in no way endorsed by JK Rowling or anyone affiliated with the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter 1: Hogwarts School for Gifted Students

It was raining. Again. Wearily, I swung my legs around and sat up in bed, trying to ignore the pitter-patter of tiny water droplets landing on the window pane. I quickly slid my feet into my slippers and stood, drawing my robe around my shoulders before padding across the room to my desk.

It had been three weeks since graduation, yet nothing had changed. Every morning, I awoke and immediately checked to see if I'd received any e-mails or calls. After discovering my empty inbox, I would slowly make my way to the kitchen and pour myself a bowl of cereal before confining myself to my couch for the morning. I would sit there for hours, watching re-runs of my favorite TV shows on Netflix, wishing I was one of my favorite characters instead of myself. Later in the afternoon, I would drag myself back to my desk and reluctantly browse every website I could think of in a search for a job – any job – that would allow me to feel like I hadn't just wasted four years of my life at university.

Anthropology – that was my major. But what use was a degree in anthropology unless you wanted to continue and get a master's degree, or even a PhD? There were no jobs for someone with only a bachelor's in anthropology. It was a useless degree – everyone had told me so. Katie, what are you going to do with a degree in anthropology? My mother had asked me this back when I'd applied for the program. My answer then had been that I'd figure it out. That there'd surely be job fairs I could attend and career advisors I could talk to. Turns out they weren't as helpful as I'd have hoped.

My parents had agreed to fund my job search for one month. I had one month to find a decent job, or else I would have to move back home and beg for a job working as a cashier at the local grocery store. I'd been optimistic at the time. Surely one month was enough time to find a job. Four whole weeks; thirty whole days – that was plenty of time. But three weeks had now passed, and I was no closer to finding a job than I was on day one. I'd sent my resume out everywhere. I'd even been on a few job interviews. But nobody was interested in someone with little job experience and only a degree in anthropology to show for the last four years of her life.

Not expecting much, I logged into my e-mail account and checked my messages. There were a few promotional e-mails from stores I'd shopped at in the past. I kept meaning to unsubscribe from the mailing lists, but I never took the time to do it. Then there was an e-mail from my parents, asking how the job hunt was going. I chose to ignore that message too – I didn't feel like advertising my failure just yet. Then I scrolled down and saw a message that made my breath catch in my throat.

It was from someone named Silas Slinkhard, but that wasn't what caught my attention. What caught my attention was the subject line: Job Interview Request.

Excitedly, I clicked on the e-mail and opened it in a new tab.

Dear Ms. Harris,

We have received your application for the teaching position at our school and are extremely interested in exploring the possibility of your employment. If possible, we would like to schedule an interview to meet with you at your earliest convenience. Let us know your availability and we will send someone to meet with you.

Sincerely,

Silas Slinkhard

Headmaster, Hogwarts School for Gifted Students

As I read the e-mail, I became confused. Had I applied to a teaching job? And why on earth would they be interested in me? I didn't have a degree in education, or even the beginnings of an idea of how I would go about teaching a class of students. Curiously, I switched to Google and typed in Hogwarts School. When nothing relevant came up, I tried searching Silas Slinkhard, but couldn't find anyone that appeared to be the Headmaster of a school.

I wasn't about to turn my nose at such a gift though. I immediately wrote back, indicating that I was available for an interview anytime and that they only need send me a time and a place. Once that was sent, I quickly deleted all my junk mail and drafted a quick reply to my parents, telling them that I had another interview to go on. Just as I was about to close my computer and get some breakfast, another e-mail from Silas Slinkhard appeared, the subject line reading Re: RE: Job Interview Request.

I opened the e-mail to find only a single line of text.

Today. Noon. Davis & Sons Coffee Shop.

I checked my watch. It was already close to eleven.

Frantically, I jumped into the shower, knowing that this may well be my last chance to secure a job before my month of grace ran out. By the end of the week, I would no longer have the funds to stay in my apartment nor to pay for groceries or other important amenities. If this interview didn't go well… No. Thinking that wasn't even an option. The interview would go well. Teaching may not have been the job I'd envisioned for myself, but I'd take just about anything at this point to avoid having to slink back to my parents and admit defeat.

I arrived at the coffee shop with five minutes to spare. It was close to my apartment building, which was good given the extremely short notice. Nervously, I straightened my clothes and smoothed down my hair, scanning the room and then taking a seat at a table by the wall.

"Ms. Harris?" a man asked approaching. I immediately stood up and extended my hand.

"Mr. Slinkhard?" I returned.

"No, I'm afraid not," the man shook his head. "My name is Professor Longbottom. Headmaster Slinkhard sent me to interview you as he is quite busy today."

"Pleased to meet you," I said, shaking the man's hand and re-taking my seat. I wondered why Headmaster Slinkhard had been so eager to schedule the interview today when he wasn't even available.

"Shall we get started?" Professor Longbottom asked, taking his own seat. I noticed that he hadn't brought anything with him and puzzled at that. It was already pretty unusual that we were conducting a job interview in a coffee shop, but shouldn't he have brought something with him? Papers, of some sort at least?

"By all means," I nodded.

"Very well," he nodded. "Now you are aware of course, that Hogwarts is a rather… special school?"

"I admit," I said, "I don't know much about it. I tried to find a website or something online, but nothing came up."

"No," Professor Longbottom shook his head. "It wouldn't."

I frowned, not sure what he meant by it, but chose to wait for him to continue.

"Hogwarts is a school for special children. Children with… special abilities. They are hand-picked and invited to enroll. As such, we also value privacy above all else," Professor Longbottom said.

"Of course," I nodded.

"Only after you choose whether to accept this job can I reveal the specific details of the job to you," Professor Longbottom continued. "And even then, only after you've promised to sign a confidentiality agreement."

"How am I supposed to decide whether or not to take the job unless I know what the job is?" I wondered.

"Well as I'm sure you know, you are being offered a teaching position," Professor Longbottom replied.

"Yes," I nodded. "I don't have a teaching degree."

"That is of no concern to us," Professor Longbottom shook his head. "None of our teachers do."

"Alright," I said, a little unsure, but allowing him to go on.

"The school consists of students from age eleven to age eighteen," Professor Longbottom continued. "You would be responsible for teaching five classes, one class per year starting with the third years. The course you'd be teaching is an elective class, so you wouldn't be teaching all our students, and only students particularly interested in the subject."

"What is the nature of the class I'd be teaching?" I wondered.

"It's a class about human culture, to put it simply. You would of course have access to your predecessor's notes, as well as a series of textbooks on the subject to help you to design a lesson plan. Rest assured though, that any content you would be teaching would be entirely familiar to you," Professor Longbottom said.

"Human culture…" I mused to myself. It sounded a bit like I'd be teaching a class on anthropology. No wonder they'd been interested in me for the position.

"Hogwarts is also a boarding school," Professor Longbottom continued.

"A boarding school?" I asked in surprise. This I hadn't been expecting.

"That's right," Professor Longbottom nodded. "If you agree to take the position, you will of course be agreeing to live at the school for the majority of the year."

"Would my family and friends be allowed to come and visit me there?" I wondered.

"No," Professor Longbottom shook his head. "Due to the aforementioned issue of privacy, we do not allow outsiders onto school grounds. However, arrangements can be made for you to leave on occasion to visit with them, provided you keep our confidentiality in mind."

"What about holidays?" I asked. "Will I be expected to stay at the school during holidays?"

"You will be given a choice between the Christmas holidays and the Easter holidays," Professor Longbottom replied. "Since many students elect to remain at the school during the holidays, we do need there to be teachers to supervise."

I nodded. It made sense. I just wasn't sure if I was ready to give up so much of my life to this job.

"There is something else you should be made aware of," Professor Longbottom said. "We do not allow technological devices on school grounds. That goes for teachers and students alike."

I gaped. No technology? That meant no phone, no computer, no tablet, no iPod… How would I communicate with my family?

"Are there phones or computers there that I can use?" I wondered.

"No," Professor Longbottom shook his head. "We are a little old-fashioned in that respect. If you choose to take the position, the only method of communication you'll have will be through the postage system."

I sat back, a little stunned. "And people are alright with that?" I asked. "What about you? You have no problem having your phone taken away when you go to work?"

"I actually don't own a phone," Professor Longbottom admitted. "Most of us don't. And once you're there, I'm sure you'll find that you have no real need of one. Our postage system is extremely fast. In fact, you can even receive replies to letters the same day you send them, depending on the distance."

"Impressive," I allowed. Though I hated the thought of giving up my phone, or my computer, knowing that I could communicate with my family and friends that quickly was reassuring. It wasn't like I had that many friends to begin with anyway, and I didn't talk to my parents every day either.

"Before we go any further," Professor Longbottom said, "I need to know… are you considering taking the position, or have you already made up your mind that it's too much?"

I took a moment to think about it. Though it sounded like I would be giving a lot up – not only my phone and computer, but also most of my time and freedom if I was going to be living at the school – it also sounded like quite the adventure. Not to mention, I really needed a job.

"How big of a commitment do you need?" I asked in return. "Because I can't sign away the next ten years of my life to a job I know almost nothing about."

"A one-year commitment is all we ask at this time," Professor Longbottom replied. "If you commit to teach for one academic year, and sign the confidentiality agreement, then we can get into the specifics. After the year is up, it's your decision whether you want to sign another contract or simply move on with your life."

"One year?" I repeated, mulling it over. One year really wasn't so long. Lots of people I knew took a year off after graduation to go on grand adventures around the world. I couldn't afford the kind of grand adventures some of my friends had taken – like travelling through Europe and Asia for example. But this – this could be my big adventure. "Yes," I decided. "I suppose I am considering it."

"Excellent," Professor Longbottom said. He reached into his jacket and pulled out two documents, placing them on the table in front of me. "This is the contract," he pointed to the one on the left. "It outlines details including salary, working hours, and a general idea of the duties and responsibilities you would have to perform as well as a teacher's code of conduct."

I skimmed the contract and nodded to indicate that everything looked fair. Of course, I wouldn't sign it before reading it a little more carefully, but so far it seemed reasonable.

"This one," Professor Longbottom said, sliding the second document closer to me, "is the confidentiality agreement."

I turned my attention to the document on the right, picking it up as I read it. It was pretty intense. If I signed the document, I would be prohibited from sharing any information about the school or its students with anyone outside what was called the 'school community'. The document was also very clear about what it meant by 'any information' – basically if I told anyone anything more than that I was a teacher at a boarding school for gifted students, then I would be in big trouble.

"Are you sure this is completely necessary?" I frowned.

"Yes," Professor Longbottom nodded. "If you sign it, you'll discover why we have to be so strict about it. If you choose not to sign it… well… you don't know anything anyway."

"Can you at least promise me that none of this is illegal?" I asked.

"I promise," Professor Longbottom said. "Nothing here is illegal. If you would feel more comfortable, we can add in a clause stipulating that you are exempt from the confidentiality agreement in the event that keeping it would force you to break the law."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," I shook my head. Just hearing him say it made me sure that the job was legit – or at least, as legit as a job could be when you couldn't know anything about it until you'd taken it.

I took a deep breath as I considered everything. Taking this job made no sense. No sane person would do it. If I were being rational, I'd politely decline the job, return to my apartment, and continue my job search. But I only had a week left before my parents would cut me off, forcing me to move back home. Chances were I wasn't going to get another job opportunity before that happened. And I really didn't want to have to go home with my tail between my legs. Plus, this job – well I was intrigued. If I went home now, I would forever wonder what could have been. I would always wonder about the mystery of Hogwarts School and Professor Longbottom and Headmaster Slinkhard. I would probably always regret not taking the chance when I had it.

"When do I start?" I asked.