Not that anyone is reading this story, but just in case there are, I have been on a cruise. Thus the delay in new chapters. But no more! I have returned, and my little ink pen has been pumping out ideas. So here you are….a new chapter.

As always, every little thing in this story belongs to J.K. Rowling, except Marzanne Murphy.

The First Class

The next morning Harry, and Ron woke, met Hermione in the common room, went down to the kitchens to grab breakfast for Sirius, and headed up to Professor Murphy's quarters. Upon arriving they notice a small piece of parchment stuck to the door with spellotape. It said "Don't knock, just come in." Harry quietly opened the door, stepped inside, and was amazed to see that Murphy had in fact decorated the room. The four poster bed now had a bronze bedspread, which the Professor was still sleeping under. Behind the bed was a large tapestry of the Ravenclaw coat of arms which stretched from ceiling to floor. On the floor, was a navy blue Persian rug with bronze fringe. Harry's attention was drawn to the corner by the sound of the crackling fire. He noticed the Professor had set up a desk in front of the fire place. It was covered with pieces of parchment with notes of potions ingredients, and experiments. Also, on the desk was a single test tube containing a black, bubbly potion. He stared curiously at the potion and wondered what it might be when Hermione tugged on his robes.

"We shouldn't be snooping!" Hermione scolded.

Reluctantly, Harry agreed. Together, the three quietly made their way up the stairs, and knocked on the trap door to Sirius' loft. He flipped open the door, bid them good morning before transforming, and led them out of the room. After a quick jaunt around the castle, and conversation in the forest, Harry, Ron, and Hermione took Sirius back to his loft and then headed to the Great Hall for a breakfast of their own.

***

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, nibbling on French toast, Harry turned his direction to the staff table and noticed Professor Murphy was still not there. Probably still sleeping, he thought to himself. He was very curious about the new professor. Sirius seemed to know her very well. That made Harry wonder if she knew his parents. What was her job at the ministry? He also was hoping to find out what kind of potion she was making in her quarters. Luckily, he had DADA that afternoon. Perhaps, some of his questions would be answered.

"That potion she was making looked really complex. I wonder what it is," Hermione said with a mischievous grin.

"Yeah, she was dead to the world when we were in there, she must have been up all night working on it," Ron commented.

Harry was about to reveal his own thoughts about what the potion might be when he thought better of it. In the past, when the three of them went snooping where they ought not, they often found themselves in loads of trouble. Doing the same this year just didn't seem safe with Voldemort about. He made a vow, in his own mind, to stay out of trouble this rear. So, half heartedly, he responded to Hermione, and Ron by saying, "I'm not particularly interested."

"Liar," Ron declared, "What's the matter with you Harry? You've been acting funny since you stepped off the Hogwarts Express." Ron had a genuinely worried expression on his face. He had never seen Harry so sullen. Frankly, he was rather tired of it, and was going to do whatever it took to cheer Harry up.

"Nothings wrong. I just don't want to stick my nose where it shouldn't be this time around." Harry looked at Ron sheepishly.

"That is the most sensible thing I've ever heard you say," Hermione looked at Harry with pride in her expression. "Don't worry Ron," Hermione said comfortingly, "Harry is anything but sensible. He'll have us trying to find out what that potion is before the week is out." With that she took a bite of her oatmeal in celebration of her cleverness. Harry flashed her a look of contempt.

***

Later that afternoon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione shuffled into the DADA classroom. They took seats in the front and began taking out quills, and parchment for note taking.

"Do you smell something funny, Crabbe? You Goyle?"

Harry groaned when he heard that voice. It was Draco Malfoy. Gryffindors would be having DADA with the Slytherins…..again.

"It smells rather like dog," Draco turned in Harry's direction, "Oh, it's just Potter, and his pathetic friends." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled and took a pair of seats in the back.

"I think that is your upper lip you're getting whiff of, Malfoy." Harry retorted viciously. He was more than a little satisfied when Malfoy was unable to come up with a come back.

Soon after this battle of words, Professor Murphy sauntered into the room. She was dressed in a pair of navy slacks, a bronze sweater with 'Ravenclaw' written across the chest, and a pair of black, beat up, Nike sneakers. In one hand she held a cup of coffee. In the other a blueberry muffin. Her long hair was swept back into a tight bun, which made her look very familiar to Harry. Though he couldn't place who she looked like.

"Good Morning all of you, please take your seats." She walked over and sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her legs at the ankles. Murphy then pinched off a piece of her muffin, took a sip of coffee, and brought her attention back to the class. "Most of you noticed I was not at breakfast this morning," She looked mainly at Harry as she said this, "I can assure you, I will never be at breakfast. I have a second job, of a personal nature, that keeps me awake well into the evening. Therefore, if ever you have questions about an upcoming test or quiz, you should seek me out at dinner the night before." She drank another sip of coffee and took roll. After which she continued, "I like to start class with a question and answer discussion. You ask the questions, I give the answers. Normally, these questions should pertain to Dark Arts, but seeing as how this is our first lesson, the questions are allowed to be about my favorite subject. Myself," she smirked as a few students giggled, "Ask away."

At first, no one raised their hand. They had never been able to ask a teacher about their past directly like this. It was a bit nerve racking. But then, of all people, Neville Longbottom raised his hand.

"Did you go to Hogwarts?" He asked in a voice barely audible.

The Slytherins snickered at the question. Harry felt sorry for Neville. Leave it to him to totally miss the obvious. Neville was not very good at most magic, and was often tormented by Professor Snape. Harry half expected Professor Murphy to insult Neville as Snape would, but instead she respectfully answered, "As a matter of fact, I did. Ravenclaw house. How is your Gran, Neville?"

"Oh, you know Gran," Neville had gone positively pink with embarrassment. "She's well, thank you."

"Yes, I know your Gran. Your parents as well. The most honorable folk I've had the opportunity to meet." Harry saw as Neville's face went very sad, and yet very proud. Malfoy let a snort escape his nose. "I know a lot of people. I'm sure Lucius Malfoy would be very interested to know what I think of his son." Draco proud smirk dropped from his face, and he went a bit pale. "You see, when I was at Hogwarts, I made it a priority to make friend with people in every house. It seems to me that only being friends with other Gryffindors, or Slytherins causes you to have a very narrow view of the world, and it's a big world. Lot's to see, and if you don't take every opportunity, you miss out."

"Why do you dress like a muggle?" Draco shouted. Harry assumed the question purposed as some sort of revenge for mentioned Mr. Malfoy.

"Face of an angel, tongue of the devil, I see." Murphy nodded at Malfoy. "Why do I dress as a muggle would? Have you ever met a vampire, Draco?"

"No."

"Nor would you want to," Murphy continued. "Before coming to Hogwarts I worked in the Ministry's Department of Vampire Control. I am a Vampire Hunter. Most vampires find muggles easy prey, as they are rather naïve, and easily seduced. However, vampires are very intelligent and can sense a wizard from ten miles away. A good vampire hunter lives like a muggle, dresses like a muggle, in hopes of convincing the vampire they have no magic and thus bringing the vampire to them. By getting the vampire on their own turf, the slaying becomes easy. Fail to be convincing, and you're the one who's dead." Harry watched as Malfoy went another shade of pale. Then listened as Murphy spoke again, "And then there's the fact that robes are rather long, and I'm a bit of a clutz. I'm always tripping over them, or closing doors on them. It is rather embarrassing." The class chuckled, and was glad that Murphy had lightened the mood.

They continued asking questions about her past, and she willingly answered. Before any of them knew, their hour was up, and the Professor had to remind them to head off to their next class. Outside the classroom it was Hermione that spoke first.

"I don't like her," she said as she scrunched her nose.

"What?" Harry, and Ron turned to her with shocked looks.

"She seems so, silly." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Imagine what Dumbledore would say if we told him she spent the whole hour talking about herself rather than teach. What a twit!" Harry was briefly reminded of Gilderoy Lockhart, and considered calling Hermione a hypocrite. However, his retort was stopped from escaping his lips due to a familiar voice.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger." Professor Murphy had been standing behind them and heard their whole conversation. "Honestly, someone of your caliber and intelligence."

"I'm very sorry, Professor." Hermione mumbled guiltily.

"As you should be. Someone with grades like yours should be able to come up with a better insult than 'twit.'" She winked at Harry and Ron, then sauntered off in the direction of the staff room.

"Hermione, I'm going to have to disagree with your opinion," Ron said.

"Wow," was the only word Harry could mutter.