Prologue:
The moon shone gently down upon the unkempt lawn. A cement sidewalk ran up the center showing cracks and gouges from years of evident neglect. A large house stood back off the lane, worn by many years without occupants. Trees dotted the area, haphazardly. A man moved down the sidewalk darting from shadow to shadow, a wand poised in his right hand.
"They have to be here," the man thought, repeatedly. "I've looked everywhere else and this is the only place left."
A gentle breeze played through the trees and rustled the last leaves that had yet to give over to autumn.
The man reached the front door of the run-down manor. After a few moments of probing spells to check for alarms or other enchantments the man seemed satisfied.
"Alohamora," whispered the man while pointing his wand at the lock. A faint click issued from the door and it started to open. The hinges, clearly in need of oiling, rang out in protest. With a quick wave of his wand the man thought, "Silencio," and the hinges were once again silent.
A foyer stood before him, empty and dusty. The stale scent of disuse hung heavy in the air with something more sinister barely discernable.
"Lumos," the man thought and the tip of his wand shone through the darkness revealing clear signs of disturbance in the dust. "So, at least someone has been here," thought the man.
Extinguishing his wand, the man slipped a silvery cloak out of a specially designed pocket in his robe. Draping it over himself, he vanished from view. Moving slowly to keep the noise of his passage undetectable, he advanced into the house. Through the gloom up a flight of stairs, the man spotted a dim light barely visible escaping from under a closed door. Silencing his movements with another spell, the man moved up the stairs.
A low murmur could be heard coming from behind the door. Whether it was voices or the wind, the man could not be sure. Knowing that he would have only one chance to control this encounter, he aimed his wand at the door and sent a blasting spell right for the center. The door erupted inward, shattered into thousands of small pieces. The splinters flew into the room and embedded themselves in an oversized chair that sat facing away from the door.
The man stepped into the room with his wand at the ready, prepared to dodge or counter any curses that flew his way. Much to the man's surprise, none did. The room was bare except a fireplace in the corner that was the evident source of the light, the oversized chair, and two bodies that lay on either side of the chair. While neither body showed any sign of damage, both men were obviously dead.
The man stood in shock, reeling to find his quarry slain in front of him. It was then that a voice came from the chair that faced away from him. A voice that was high and clear. A voice that was much too familiar to the man standing in the doorway.
"I am sure that you are wondering why I killed them," said the high, clear voice. "You see, no one displeases Lord Voldemort and lives for very long. These men failed to kill you and thus had to be taught the consequences of failing me. However, I do admit that they did prove useful in the end. Allowing you to track them lead you right to me. And now, I may finish what I began so many years ago."
Before the man could even react, the chair spun around to face him. Pain exploded from the long dormant scar on the man's forehead. From the chair rose a man that should have been dead. That had been dead for over twenty years. Lord Voldemort rose his arm and in it he held a wand. He mouthed words that the other man could not hear over the sound of his own screaming. A flash of green light filled the room and then an oppressive blackness overwhelmed the man broken only by the sound of Lord Voldemort's laughter.
Chapter One: Old Scars
Harry Potter woke with a start. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes he sat up and looked around the room for any sign of that awful, mask-like face. Those cold, pitiless red eyes. Any remnants from those awful years. Finding none, he took a deep breath as he laid back down with a sigh.
Dreams like this came more rarely now than they used to. Harry caught his breath and looked over at Ginny sleeping peacefully next to him. She didn't often wake when he did anymore. For the first few years of their marriage sleep was interrupted for them both several times a week. As time ran on however, other things lead to sleepless nights. Harry smiled as he thought about their three children sleeping in their own rooms. Last week they had all arrived back from school for their summer break.
James Sirius Potter, their oldest had just completed his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. James had been named a prefect for his year and wore his badge even while at home. Harry had been very proud to hear that his oldest son had received this honor as neither he, nor his father before him had.
Albus Severus Potter had been nervous to attend school; however, with the guiding hand of his elder brother and several new friends, he had bloomed out of his nervous nature and had begun to find a role for himself. Though, he had received several angry letters from the caretaker Argus Filch about Albus' rule breaking nature, Harry was rather proud to think that he was taking after two of his uncles.
Both of Harry's sons played for the Gryffindor quidditch team. With Madam Hooch retiring from teaching several years ago, Oliver Wood had taken her position as flying instructor and head of quidditch. Wood had spoken with Harry several times about his sons and swore that they had all of the promise in the world.
"Of course, they take after their mother," Wood teased. "She had all the talent in the family."
Lily Luna had just finished her first year and wrote at least 3 letters a day to her friends. Though, she only had one owl, a snowy white one that she had picked out in the Magical Menagerie. Lily had been confused when her choice of a pet had choked up her father so much, but she just guessed it was one of those grown-up things that she was too young to understand.
Having caught his breath, Harry rose from the bed and walked over to the window. Godric's Hollow slumbered peacefully in front of the Potter's house. After joining the Auror division of the Ministry of Magic, Harry had kept a room at the Leaky Cauldron to be close to work. After a year of constant work, rounding up those that had used the fall of the Ministry to further their own prejudices, Harry finally asked Ginny to marry him. Of course, Ginny said yes, punching him in the arm while saying, "Finally got around to that, have you?"
Knowing that he was going to soon be starting his family, Harry found that his current shabby dwelling would not be suited to starting the rest of his life. He thought about the options he had before him. They could move into the home that Harry inherited from his godfather Sirius Black. No, that would never do. Even removing all the unpleasant memories surrounding how unhappy a life that Sirius had experienced there, Harry did not think he could grapple with Mrs. Black's constant shouts about filth and blood traitors daily.
Harry then remembered one place that had been home for him, even if for only a brief time before he could remember. After a quick call to an office in the village, Harry found a moderately sized home for sale, just down the road from where he first lived with his parents. Being here made Harry feel slightly closer to them, knowing that he now walked the same streets that they once had.
Harry ran his fingers over the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead that he received in that house just down the road. It had not hurt in more than twenty years, and for that Harry was extremely grateful. Occasionally in dreams, the memory of what the pain had felt like came back to him and it reminded him that he was very lucky to live a relatively pain-free life. Harry did have many scars; a jagged line on his leg from the fangs of a giant spider, a slice on his arm from the tail of a Hungarian Horntail, punctures on his shoulder from a giant snake, and the carving of "I must not tell lies," into the back of his hand.
"At least I'm no Moody," Harry chuckled to himself remembering the former auror who by the time he passed away likely had more scar than skin. Mad-Eye Moody had lived and worked in a much different time than Harry was currently in. Moody faced death on a nearly daily basis while the most dangerous thing that Harry had to deal with was when he tracked down a banshee that was harassing a small town outside of London, which of course had turned out to be Mundungus Fletcher trying to nick some wares from the houses he "haunted".
Harry glanced at his watch, an older golden one that he had received as a 17th birthday present from Mr. And Mrs. Weasley and saw that there was no point going back to bed. He and Ginny were going to need to be up soon to drop off the kids with grandpa and grandma and then make it to the portkey on time. Harry wished for the hundredth time that they could just apparate in. Even since the end of the war, security at Hogwarts had not loosened much.
Letting out a deep sigh, Harry headed to the kitchen to start cooking some eggs and bacon. Just because it was a long journey, that certainly doesn't mean they can't be well fed.
Chapter Two: The Return
Harry and Ginny walked through the double doors into the Great Hall and it felt as if they had been transported back in time. The ceiling reflected the clear and sunny day above them. The four house tables had been cleared away and replaced by several round ones in a close pattern.
Harry looked towards the front of the room and was pleased to see the reason that they had come all the way back to Hogwarts during the summer holiday. Minerva McGonagall sat at the head table directly in the center. Her ever-present stern look seemed to have relaxed in honor of the gayety of the day. She was in conversation with an enormous shaggy haired man but gave a slight nod and a smile as the Potter's entered the room. The shaggy haired man turned to look at who had come in and broke into a wide grin. Hagrid had never let being a professor interfere with his unbridled joy.
Ginny leaned in and whispered to Harry, "There they are, let's go grab our seats." Ginny had spotted Ron and Hermione. Ron stood up and was waving like mad to make sure they were seen. "Oh, bloody hell! I wish he would stop that. He reminds me more of Dad every day," Ginny said with a flush.
As they started toward the table, Ginny looked around and seemed to spot something. "Would you go grab us some butterbeers? They're on the table over there." Ginny pointed to the left wall where there was a table with refreshments on it. A singular man stood with his back to them at the table, mixing a drink. Harry walked over to the table and as he reached it he realized who the man was.
"Neville! Or should I just call you sir?" laughed Harry.
"Why if it isn't the famous Harry Potter, or should I just call you 'The Chosen One'," Neville jabbed back playfully.
The two men embraced and then stepped back to look at each other.
"Hard to believe she's actually going to retire. I figured she would die in that office," Harry said as he looked over at McGonagall.
"She might have," said Neville. "But I think she finally found someone who loved it as much as she did and that she could trust to take over."
"Who did she pick to replace her?" Harry asked.
"Well, me," said Neville.
Harry was taken aback for a moment. If you had told him during his time at Hogwarts was going to choose Neville Longbottom to be its headmaster, Harry would have sooner bet on Kreacher becoming a model than that. That was before all of the growing up that Neville had done. Neville who fought alongside Harry at the ministry. Neville who fought to defend Hogwarts from an invasion of Death Eaters. Neville who led a rebellion of students against the tyranny of the Carrows. Neville who stood up to Lord Voldemort when all seemed lost and rid the world of his final horcrux.
Harry grinned at Neville, "Brilliant. I couldn't have picked anyone better."
Neville blushed scarlet. "Thank you, but I'm sure load of people would do a better job than me."
"No way," Harry said emphatically. "I think that you will be one of the best headmasters that Hogwarts has ever seen."
"I'm glad you feel that way because that might just make this easier," Neville said slyly.
"What do you mean?" Harry questioned.
"Well, with McGonagall retiring and me moving to headmaster there are going to have to be some staffing changes. Hagrid, Flitwick, and Slughorn are all staying on. Professor McMillan has just moved back from the States and has agreed to teach transfiguration-
"Professor McMillan as in Ernie McMillan!?" Harry interrupted.
Neville smiled, "Of course, I forgot you never would have heard he taught here when I first started. Then after a few years, he took some time to go work at Ilvermorny."
Harry had always known that Ernie was a good student, but it had never occurred to him that Ernie might come back to work at Hogwarts.
"Then of course Professor Sinistra is staying on to teach Astronomy and I think we have filled every position except for one." Neville continued.
"Herbology," Harry said confidently.
Neville grinned even wider, "Actually, no. Hannah will be teaching that. She has wanted to get more involved in the school ever since she left the Leaky Cauldron."
"So," Harry said thoughtfully, "That just leaves..."
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," they said together.
It occurred to Harry where this conversation was heading in an instant. But the real question here was how did he feel about it? Being an Auror had been all that Harry had thought that he wanted to do. Now he had been doing it for more than twenty years and he was honestly a bit bored by it. He let his mind wander back to evenings spent in the Room of Requirement teaching DA lessons. Outside of flying, it was the first thing that Harry remembered being really good at.
"Well," Neville said, "What do you think?"
"I...well, I never really thought about teaching," Harry stammered.
"Harry, you were the best teacher I ever had. There really isn't much to think about," Neville laughed.
"I would need to talk to Ginny about it," Harry said.
Neville looked over Harry's shoulder, winked and gave a thumbs-up. "Whose idea did you think this was?"
Harry turned to see Ginny, Ron, and Hermione beaming at him. In that moment, Harry knew he would take the job.
"Looks like someone else is going to have to be in charge of keeping Mundungus Fletcher out of trouble," Harry said turning back to Neville. "Now let's talk about my office, I'm thinking pink with a bunch of kittens."
Neville choked on the butterbeer he was drinking and let out a hearty laugh.
Harry laughed along. He could already tell that this was going to be good for him. It would be a great deal more exciting than what he was used to. He was already imagining his children's reactions to finding out that he was their new DADA professor.