Disclaimer: All hail Saban and J.K. Rowling.
Author's Stuff: Sorry for this not being in the first chapter. Um…thanks to Ibonekoen, for reading a lot of my stuff and encouraging me to write more. Thanks to the people who review. Thanks to Adam, for…I don't know what for. Thanks to my favourite authors (if you don't know who they are, click on my name, then go down to Favourite Authors). Thanks to Khandreia, for letting me finish 'Chance of a Lifetime' and turn it into 'A Different Shade of Red'. Uh, thanks to ninemsn.com, for letting me sign up with Hotmail. Thanks to my primary school, who only put up a group photo and fortunately you can't recognize me all that much. Thanks to the people who make the lime cordial, it's what keeps me hyper and lovable. Now, I'm going to stop because otherwise I'll be thanking Kellogs for making my favourite brekkie cereal.
"So who do you reckon's going to be doing the new subject?" Hermione asked.
Ron rolled his eyes. "If you hadn't been listening, 'Mione, that's exactly what we've been debating for the last hour." The last hour had been History of Magic, and talking about the new subject was way more interesting than whatever Professor Binns was teaching. The first lesson possible of their new subject was in…"Eek! Five minutes!" Harry gasped. They started running full pelt towards the until-now unused classroom.
Adam raised an eyebrow as he watched the next few students enter the classroom. Ron Weasley…a bit outspoken, his father worked at the Ministry. Hermione Granger…best witch in the year, all subjects. Harry Potter…good at Defense against Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and barely scraping by with his Potions mark. The dark corner he was in concealed him from all but the keenest of magical sight, and none of the pupils had noticed him yet. A wicked grin crossed his face. Not yet.
"Alright, alright, sit down!" an impatient voice said in general. The voice scared most of the people in the room s**tless. Harry sat. Since there weren't any chairs, he sat on the floor. With a doubtful look at his friend, Ron sat, pulling down Hermione. The rest of the class followed, until there were approximately twelve kids sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Hermione raised her hand cautiously. The voice answered. "Yes, Hermione?"
She jumped at the pronunciation of her name, not thinking that this voice would know it. "Are you in the room, Professor?" she asked curiously.
The desk at the front of the room gave a jump, and a book flew onto the top of it. "Of course I am. How else would I teach?"
Seamus said without raising his hand. "Then where exactly are you?"
"A good question," the voice answered. Suddenly hands gripped his shoulders. Seamus screamed. "What kind of teacher would I be if I didn't answer it?" The hands lifted, and the man behind them walked to the desk. The dark profile let no one see the teacher clearly; only that he was supple and fairly tall. As he turned, light fell on his face, illuminating well-cut features. "I am fairly sure that none of you would know what this subject is. So you can put your minds to rest, and so I can start teaching as soon as possible, your newest subject is Physical Defense."