The day finally began. Overnight, Gandalf had slept lightly, pondering the deeper meaning to his arrival here. It was obvious he was here to help stop this Voldemort creature, but how and why he knew not yet. He woke up fully rested though, and prepared. There was a knock at his door, and he rose to greet it with the necessary coins in hand. He was shocked to find Dumbledore there.

'Professor Gandalf,' he had said, a disappointed tone in voice. 'I suppose it's my fault that I forgot to tell you, but from now on, all needs such as this are paid by Hogwarts. That is why I have paid your books in full. If ever you need something paid for, please tell me, and I'll answer you.' He smiled, and after Gandalf, who was pleasantly surprised, had thanked him, was off. Gandalf did not see him until later that day, when he had arrived at what was called the Great Hall, for dinner.

During the day, Gandalf had spent a great deal of time in the library, desperately trying to find the book on Hobbits, but to no avail. He even asked the librarian, but she said she had heard of no such book. He sighed. It seemed he would have to use other libraries. He turned to leave, and looked at a clock, and saw that it was time for dinner. For that he was glad, as he had forgone both breakfast and dinner in an attempt to find the book.

There was a large number of students, nearly three hundred, and four large tables, under four large banners, in this Great Hall. There was a great table at the halls head. Gandalf strode up there, his staff clacking on the hall tiles. He looked up, sensing an enchantment on the roof. He looked, and saw a great many candles, and a lovely night sky, stars sprinkled over it. The stars seemed to produce their own lights. Gandalf smiled. It was indeed a lovely seeming trick. With it, the weather could be whatever one wished, regardless of the outside. He sensed that emotions could affect the enchanted weather.

Gandalf reached the table, and sat beside a large seat, which he reasoned would be Dumbledore's. He had decided to forgo his usual pointy hat. Looking down, he saw an empty platter. Looking deeper, he saw an enchantment placed on it, though it's purpose, Gandalf could only guess. For all he knew, it could very well be to keep the plate from turning back into clay. He looked up in time to see Professor Snape enter the hall. He stalked up to the seat next to Gandalf, frowning the entire way.

'Ahh, Professor Snape,' greeted Gandalf, cheerfully. 'How are you feeling?'

Snape looked towards Gandalf, uncertain how to approach the question. On the one hand, the man was more cheerful than he liked, and his ego was still bruised. On the other, few had the ability to defeat him in combat, and none as swiftly as Gandalf had. He decided then, to answer respectfully, if perhaps a bit strained.

'Fine, thank you.' He offered Gandalf a half smile. He then turned his attention to the platter, muttering a meal -which appeared, to Gandalf's great relief, to be the use of the enchantment-, awaiting Dumbledore, and hoping not to have to converse with the man. That hope was soon dispersed.

'Tell me,' began Gandalf after conjuring his own meal. 'What do you teach?' He turned to the dour seeming fellow, determined to make a friend, or at least an ally out of him.

'Well, the previous years I taught Potions,' Snape began, almost unaware as to what he was saying, or that he even was saying anything at all. 'This year, however, I shall aid you in teaching the Defence against the Dark Arts.'

'Indeed!' remarked Gandalf. 'I look forward to it.' And he did, for more reasons than one.

Snape turned to Gandalf, an eyebrow cocked. This man, whoever he was, would most certainly change his mind before the end of the first term. However, he felt compelled to continue the conversation.

'Tell me, Professor Gandalf,' he began, but was stopped.

'Please, just Gandalf,' Gandalf requested.

Snape raised his eyebrows slightly. 'Very well, then. Tell me, Gandalf, is your staff magical?' He looked towards Gandalf's staff, resting on the edge of the table.

'Magical?' repeated Gandalf. 'No, though it serves more uses than merely a prop for an old man. It serves as a conduit, not unlike your own wands, though it is simply wood. It does have a nice crystal on top, but that is just a crystal too. It also serves as a symbol of authority, in an order of mine.' He then smiled. 'It's also a handy pipe-holder.'

'Do you have any magical items on your person, by any chance?' asked Snape. He did not feel the presence of any magical objects, but he knew that there was something with magical properties. Only magic could compel him to talk so readily.

'Yes, I do, I suppose,' answered Gandalf. 'I have a ring.' He lifted his hand to, with a glimmer around the air, reveal Narya.

'It makes people talk?' asked Snape. That would be a useful tool to have during classes.

'Not quite,' remarked Gandalf, understanding as to why Snape was curious about any magical items coming to him. 'Rather, it would be better to say that it gives whomever wears it confidence, and hope, and the wearer, if skilled, can project the same confidence and hope onto others. I suppose, if someone is fearful of talking, one could give them the courage to talk. But, first and foremost, the ring is to slow the decay and change of things and peoples, and give them strength, and to be a defence against the weariness of the world. However, it also allows one some measure of control over fire, or enhances their control over fire, should they already have some. It requires a great deal of practice to gain a measure of control over it. It was forged some millennia ago, from my point of view, by the High Elven Prince of Eregion, Celebrimbor. It was made with two others…'

As he spoke of the rings history, Snape felt as though he could see the tale play out before him. Gandalf stopped, however, after a few minutes of talk, before getting to the War of the Ring. Snape felt almost disappointed that he had stopped, despite still not knowing the reason behind his willingness to talk. But he remembered a particular detail about what Gandalf had said.

'You said it was forged by an Elf?' he asked, slowly. Gandalf nodded. 'I take it then your Elves are different from the ones here.'

Gandalf's eyebrows shot up. 'You have Elves here?' he asked. Perhaps he was wrong about this being a different universe. It was indeed possible that it was the far future, which he had not been a part of during the Song. His thoughts were soon brushed away, when Snape continued to speak.

'Yes, but not quite like the one you have described.' He was concerned he might anger the new professor. 'Here, they are far less impressive than the ones you have described. I rather imagine you wouldn't recognise one as an Elf.'

'And what do they look like?' Gandalf pressed, curious.

Before Snape could answer, however, Dumbledore arrived. He took this as an opportunity to get out of what could be a very awkward conversation.

'Good evening, headmaster,' he greeted Dumbledore.

'Ah, good evening indeed, Severus,' the headmaster replied, almost shocked. Snape had never been one to greet him, or anyone for that matter, first, and certainly not with "good evening". 'Sleep well, last night?'

'Somewhat,' replied Snape, still lacking his usual acidity. 'I have been talking to Gandalf here, however. He has been kind enough to tell me the history behind his ring, Narya. I must say it's rather… fascinating.'

'Indeed?' remarked Dumbledore, hiding as much surprise as he could. 'I shall have to hear it sometime, dear Gandalf.'

'I would most obliged,' Gandalf replied, cheerfully. He reasoned that no-one would be able to steal it from him, and if they did, they would be hard pressed to find a use for evil means, assuming that they even had the capacity to use it. Indeed, they would first have to learn how to use it. So Gandalf reasoned it would be safe to tell the peoples of this world about it, though not too much.

Gandalf's attention was then directed towards a booming voice. It emanated from the most unlikely of things: a hat. It started by singing a song. It sung about the dark times they were going through, and the horrors that may come, and that they would all have to be brave if they were to come through. Then McGonagall stepped up, and called a roll of names. They were, Gandalf assumed, the first year students. They put the hat on, and after a bit of muttering and murmuring, the hat decided which House they belonged in. They took it away when it was finished.

He turned his attention to the front, as Dumbledore stepped up to the podium, and bid all the students a very good evening. In a few seconds, they were all silent, save for a few murmurs. Once their attention had been gained, Dumbledore continued to speak.

Harry Potter stepped back into these familiar halls. His nose still smarted from the kick he received, and the fixing spell Luna had cast on him. He spotted his friends, and strode over to them, noticing their murmuring and assuming it was directed towards the blood on his robe. He took a seat next to Ginny, brushing away their questions about blood on his robe. He instead turned his attention towards the front, where Dumbledore had stepped up.

'A very good evening to you all,' the headmaster said, getting the attention of everyone. 'Now, before I begin, I'd like to introduce the two new members of our little family. First off, Professor Horace Slughorn, who taught here at Hogwarts before. He will be resuming his position as the Potions Master. The position of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will now be run by Professor Snape, and Professor Gandalf the Grey, the newest addition to our family.'

Harry Potter turned his attention to the man that Dumbledore gestured towards. Sitting there was an old man that Harry could only describe as kingly. He sat there, with broad shoulders, long grey hair, and a sweeping beard. He appeared as an ancient and wizened king, and beneath bushy silver eyebrows sat eyes like coals, that could leap into flames. His attention was diverted back to Dumbledore, who spoke up again.

'Now, you may remember being searched, upon entering the school,' he said, his tone darkening. 'This is because, many years ago, in this very school, in these very halls, walked a student, who seemed to all the world to be an ordinary student. He went by the name… Tom Riddle.' There were gasps and murmurs going around the hall, and Harry stiffened at the name, memories flooding back. Dumbledore continued. 'Of course, nowadays he goes by another name. Voldemort. Let this be a reminder that, every day, every hour, this very minute, perhaps, dark forces are trying to penetrate these castle walls. But their greatest weapon, is you.' He went silent, letting the words sink in. Then he lightened up again. 'Just something to think about. Now, off you go to bed, pip pip.'

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat around a fire, pondering the meaning behind the words spoken by Dumbledore. They were frustratingly vague, as ever, though this did harden their idea that Voldemort had students in his grasp . After a time, Hermione changed the subject.

'What do you all think about this new DADA teacher, though?' she asked. 'I don't know why, but there was something about him that made him seem,' she sighed in wonder, 'I don't know, ancient. But in a good way, though. He looked like he knew what he would be talking about. Like he'd fought before.'

'When I saw him, I don't know why, but the only way I could describe him was kingly, and wise,' commented Harry, not looking away from the fire. 'He looked like, like he was weary. Like he was carrying a great burden.'

'Did you see his eyes, though?' asked Ron. 'They looked, I dunno, kinda veiled. But they looked like coals, that were ready to burst into flame in an instant. And good lord, those eyebrows need a trim.' They chuckled lightly at that.

Ginny spoke up. 'He seemed to me,' she began slowly, 'that all of him is veiled, as you said. Like what we see is just what he wants us to see.'

'Like a reverse boggart?' asked Ron.

Ginny tilted her head. 'Sort of,' she said. 'I guess. I don't know. He just seems, well, a bit more, you know? More than any wizard or muggle, or anything.'

'You think he isn't human?' asked Harry, finally looking up from the dancing flames.

'I don't know what to think,' replied Ginny.

They sat in silence for some moments, before Hermione spoke up again.

'Why do you think Dumbledore hired him? And where did he come from?' she asked.

'Who the hell knows?' Ron asked in return.

'A wizard who's like him? I feel like I should have heard something about him.' Hermione sighed. 'It's late. Let's just go to bed. I have a free period tomorrow. I'll do some research, see if I can find anything. And we have DADA tomorrow.' She got up, with Ginny following, and left for bed. Harry and Ron followed suit not long after, yawning.

Meanwhile, in Dumbledore's office, Gandalf the Grey sat on a chair, waiting to put a hat on his head.

It looked not unlike his own hat, save its looking as if it had a face. Peering into it, he saw there strange magic. Dumbledore would soon explain why he was here.

'Now, Gandalf, the thing is that you need to be sorted,' explained Dumbledore, after rummaging through papers. 'Like the children. The Hat will sort you based on your personality. Because, however, it was made for children, it may find you a bit more difficult, considering you'd make me look like a child.' Dumbledore and Gandalf shared a smile. 'So, I've instructed it to be a bit more lenient. While children, and adults, would be separated into one single House, you'll be separated into two, and at most, three. Now, if you'd please.' He gestured to the hat.

Gandalf put the hat on. The moment he did, the hat let out a gasp.

'Now, this is indeed a challenge,' he (it?) remarked. 'A very long life, very long indeed, Professor. But, two things are obvious. You belong in both Gryffindor, and in Hufflepuff. I also imagine you would be suited well in both Slytherin and Ravenclaw. You're both ambitious, and intelligent. You're cunning, planning ahead centuries at a time if you need to, and you love to learn, and to teach, sometimes. I think you should go into… Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff!'

With that, Gandalf took the hat off, and passed it to Dumbledore. He rose.

'Thank you, Gandalf. These are some excellent choices, I must say,' Dumbledore told the new Professor, a cheery voice. 'Now, ah, here's your schedule. And while most teachers here would receive a tie or robe or scarf of sorts, you'll have to wait for yours, as it needs to be custom made. Good night.' Gandalf took the paper, thanked and welcomed Dumbledore, and took his leave, bidding him a fair night.

Once he was gone, a man stepped out from behind a corner. He bore lines of hardship; a great stress was on him.

'Well, Remus,' Dumbledore began, slightly less cheerful. 'What do you think? A worthy member of our little club, no?'

'If only half of what you told me is true, Albus, then more than worthy.' Remus Lupin stepped next to Dumbledore, a question forming in his mind. 'But the question is: do you think you could convince him to stay?'

'Possibly. I may not even need to.' Dumbledore mused silently. 'Well, no matter. It's late now. We both need our rest. Will you be staying here for the night, Remus?'

Remus shook his head. 'No, sorry. I've got to get back to Tonks.'

Dumbledore simply smiled. 'Of course. Good night, Remus.'

'Good night, Dumbledore.' And with that, he turned and left, leaving Dumbledore to his thoughts.

This would prove to be an interesting year, no doubt. He would have little difficulty, he imagined, getting Gandalf to agree to joining the Order. The only difficulty he would have would be convincing him to agree to his plan. He couldn't very well keep him in the dark; the Maiar had uncovered better hidden secrets than this. Dumbledore sighed, and looked over to a stack of papers he had to fill out. He would do them tomorrow, he decided. For now, he decided to go and alter his plans of action.

Thank you all. Sorry that this is a bit shorter than usual. Hopefully it isn't too bad. Many thanks to all your comments and advice.