This night would've seemed like any other night to those filling the tiny pub known as the Three Broomsticks. However, when an odd, despondent woman entered the bar, things changed. Her aura alone was enough to depress any onlooker. Her unkempt chestnut locks fell against the back of her ebony cloak. Her mournful green eyes remained downcast. Even her scarlet robes were faded and dingy. A tarnished golden band about her ring finger gleamed in the dancing light of the oil lamps as she seated herself at the bar.
The woman sat in silence for a few moments, seeming to ponder her own existence or ordeals. She had been through so much in the last decade, and was finally tired of it. Her past had obviously given up on her, as did her spirit to continue her unrelenting search. That search had brought her back to the place of her youth, and here it would end. Her final lead, and her final dead end. She was finished with it all. She was tired of searching. She was tired of disappointment. Her heart had broken more times during her quest due to such dead ends as this than it had during her adolescence.
"It's over," she mumbled to herself in defeat. She folded her hands, elbows aching against the hard wood of the counter. The woman rested her nose against her scarred fingers and stared off in front of her. "I'm finished."
"Well, my dear, you can't be finished if you haven't had anything to drink yet, can you?" the middle-aged witch standing before interrupted. "What'll it be?"
The young woman upon the stool peered up at her blankly for a moment, as if comprehending her statement. She sighed and finally answered, "Cosmopolitan."
The bartender turned her back to the melancholy woman, who had returned to her thoughts. Where would she go now? What was she going to do? She had nothing but her wand, a bit of wizard gold, a few pounds, and some Euro. How was she going to get by?
A drink was set upon the counter, breaking her concentration. The woman began sipping the sweet liquor, wishing she had a plan. No one recognized her anymore, so she had no one to rely on. All she had now was what remained of her sanity. The best thing to do was to forget the past and move on.
"My dear, Rosemerta, how nice to see you again," a weary voice greeted, as a graying, elderly wizard sat down beside the woman.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. What's brings you here?" the bartender replied with a smile.
"I am supposed to meet with a Mister Reginald Danswith. I had an interview for the teaching position at Hogwarts. He hasn't been here by any chance, was he?"
"I do believe there was a chap in here about an hour ago asking about openings at Hogwarts," Rosemerta answered, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "I told him the only opening I knew of was the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. He asked if I was sure, so I told him that's the only position that's ever open, and that I'm always hearing the job is cursed by students coming in here. Poor bloke ran out before I could get his name."
"Well, well, it certainly appears I will once again have some trouble filling the position. Thank, madam."
"Pardon me, professor," the peculiar woman interrupted. "Would it be possible for someone such as myself to merit and interview. You are here, as am I, at the moment. It would be easier for it to be conducted now."
The wizened man examined her appearance over the rim of his half moon spectacles. His skeptical look didn't seem promising, but his lips softened into a small smile.
"I suppose so," he said. "Come with me."
Dumbledore seated himself at a worn mahogany table near the center of the room. He motioned for the woman to take the seat in front of him. She did so, mentally preparing herself for the ensuing interrogation.
"May I ask your name, miss?"
"My name?" The woman paused for a moment. Her silence seemed to perplex the old professor, as he continued to study her over the rim of his spectacles. "Andromeda Nogard, sir."
"Well, Miss Nogard, what are your qualifications?"
"I received Acceptable or Outstanding on my N.E.W.T.s in the areas of Divination, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms. I've worked as an independent curse breaker and have dealt with many magical threats."
"Are there any fears or phobias that would affect your ability to teach? Any...conditions?"
Her eyes glanced back at the unfinished cocktail that had been abandoned on the counter. She closed her eyes against a painful memory that was trying to invade her thoughts. She looked back at the man before her. "Not anymore, sir."
Again, Dumbledore seemed intrigued by her answer, but continued. "Do you have any experience in the field of education?"
"I'm sorry to say that I don't."
The Professor paused, staring at her contently for a moment. "Why would you like this position?"
"To be honest, sir, I need a job. I don't really have any skills other than magic, and I've been rather dependent on magic in the last decade or so. I don't know how to do anything else."
"I see." He smiled. "You do seem to be more qualified then the gentleman I was to meet with, and you do want the position. Please report to the Castle in August to prepare. I expect your book list for the students within two weeks."
"Thank you, Professor!" she exclaimed happily, shaking his hand as they both stood.
"You are very welcome, Miss Nogard." The woman was surprised to see a small twinkle in his eye. Did he recognize her? "And, please, refer to me by name. It's much less formal."
"Thank you, Dumbledore."
He smiled warmly. "I will see you in August."