Remembering my days as a student, I thanked whatever gods there are that I did not have to go through that again.  Although there were some bright spots, one of whom I was going to have to face in a few days after not seeing him for twenty some odd years, my school years were rather bleak and dismal and well worth not revisiting.  During my three and a half years at Hogwarts I had had this unrelenting crush on a fellow Slytherin, a boy named Severus Snape.  Albeit he was gawky, greasy, stuck up and rude; I liked him anyway.  Unfortunately for me he had fallen head over heels for a Gryffindor named Gwendolyn Rhys, who in turn went around with Sirius Black, James Potter and his girlfriend Lily.  I was an outcast in most circles, and feeling no affinity towards my housemates, the likes of whom I tried to be rid of at Durmstrang, I rarely was to be found outside the library.
            Since it was just a few hours until the Hogwarts Express left King's Cross Station I needed to pick up some reading material.  I stopped on my way to the station at a little muggle bookstore just off the street corner.  Once inside I browsed around, feeling somehow comforted by book covers whose pictures did not move, or speak to you, or try to bite.  While searching for just the right book, I stumbled upon something that I hadn't read in years.  A small paperback book by Gaston Leroux: The Phantom of the Opera.  I hadn't seen a new copy of this since I was in school.  I bought it with muggle pocket change and went on my somewhat merrier way to Kings Cross.
            I got to the station and it was packed not only with Hogwarts students and their families, but also with muggles. It was an epic battle just to get to the barrier between platforms nine and ten, let alone enough clear space to get a running start to pass through onto platform 9 ¾.  When I finally was able to reach the platform it was swarming with people and their luggage.  I had forgotten how crowded it was with families saying "good bye", " I promise mum, this time I'll write", and other such sentimental nonsense. 
            As I struggled to get my trunk up into the overhead locker of the last unoccupied compartment, a boy of about seventeen politely asked if he could help.    I looked him over and decided that his height advantage of about ten inches could probably wedge the damned thing in better than I could and let him shove the heavy chest into its place.  He had dark, unkempt hair that appeared strangely familiar and startling green eyes that I recognized at once.
            "You must be Harry Potter.  You look exactly like your father, with the exception of your mother's eyes.  I'm Ana Dimitrios, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," sticking my hand out to shake his. " I went to school with your parents, and if you and your friends are anything like them, I am sure we will be having some very interesting discussions in class.  Thank you for the help with my luggage, I prefer not to use magic when brawn will suffice."
            He seemed startled when he realized that I was old enough to be his mother.  " N-not to brown-nose or anything but I thought you were another foreign exchange student.  You don't seem old enough to have known my parents, let alone have gone to school with them.  I really don't mean to be rude, but why do you seem so young?"
            " That young man will be answered on the first day of class.  And I would advise you to be careful whom you share that last bit of observation with.  You seem like a nice enough boy, I would hate for rumors to start flying before classes started, like they won't, but you really should go have fun during your last few hours of freedom before the term begins." Shooing him out the door.  "Good bye, and I expect to see you in class tomorrow."
            After that I had a rather uneventful ride having the cabin all to myself, except for the few students who came to check out the new teacher, and I think I heard myself being referred to as "fresh meat" a few times in mischievous tones.

            When the train pulled into the Hogsmead station, I shared a coach with two of my new students, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom.  Ginny was a nice girl with flaming red hair and rather pretty.  I introduced myself, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable with a total stranger. Evidently Neville had a penchant for losing his pet toad Trevor, and was searching for him when the coaches started heading towards the castle, he quickly jumped into our carriage before he got left behind, clutching his rescued toad.