Chapter One:
The Duel
Harry Potter grasped the handle of his trunk as he stared at the Hogwarts castle. It looked exactly the same. 'Why am I here?' He asked himself, 'I'm such an idiot! I can't do this!'
He shook his head and entered through the giant oak doors. He left his trunk in the Entrance Hall and walked over to the doors which lead towards the Great Hall.
"Do you see anyone new?" James Potter whispered to one of his best friends, Sirius Black.
"No. I wonder what they're going to do for Defence Against the Dark Arts," Sirius whispered back.
"Will you both shut up?" Another one of their best friends, Remus Lupin, groaned, "He'll be saying soon enough."
"Now, as I'm sure you all have heard, we have lost one of our number. Professor Noelle Noir was murdered by Lord Voldemort on Christmas Day," The oldest professor and headmaster, Albus Dumbledore said gravely from his place in the center of the front table. He bowed his head for a minute, then continued, "Obviously, we have not found someone to cover the post, so—"
He was cut off by a bang of wood hitting stone. Every head whipped around, to see the shadow of someone casually leaning against the doorway.
"Who are you?" Dumbledore demanded, pointing his wand at the stranger, "And what are you doing at this school?"
"My name is Harry Patterson, and I'm here to apply for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position," The stranger said smoothly. He stepped into the light.
A man, about six feet tall stood there. He had a pair of sunglasses perched upon his long black hair, which was streaked with blue. He as scanning each table in turn, his eyes changing from black to white constantly, and sometimes turning grey. He had an earring with a small hanging lightning bolt hanging from his ear.
"So, do you need anything? Qualifications or what not?" He asked, breaking the silence.
"Yes, can you tell me any O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. results?" Dumbledore asked.
"Er—sorry, but I have—" Harry started.
A suspicious Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, "I'm sorry sir, but if you don't have any sort of exam results—"
"How about I prove myself?" Harry asked, grinning, "A duel, perhaps, then we can do some theory questions."
Every single person in the room looked at Harry in disbelief. No one was that stupid to challenge Dumbledore to a duel.
"Okay," Dumbledore said, and conjured a dueling platform.
They bowed to each other and began their duel, starting out simple, using spells like the Jelly-Legs Jinx, and charms like the Cheering Charm. After five minutes, Harry started a conversation, "So, Professor, what is it like at Hogwarts? The students are well behaved, good colleagues, and such."
"Ah yes, at least as far as I find it. I daresay, you are quite a good dueler, but you seem rather young. How old are you?"
"Sixteen—Protego!" Harry whispered, so no one, other than the intended could hear him.
Dumbledore's jaw dropped. This stranger was younger than some of the students.
Harry took advantage of the old man's brief vulnerability, and cried, "Expelliarmus!" He caught the wand heading his way and slightly smirked at the stunned expressions on all the faces around the room. "Very good duel, I must say. It's hard to find an opponent these days. We should do this sometime soon, Professor. But, this is not the time for that. We should head up to your office to have the interview."
"Professor, I have a lot to explain," Harry said, once they were up in the office, "Will you let me talk, then you can ask questions?" Dumbledore nodded. "Okay. My name is not Harry Patterson, it's Harry Potter. You sent me from nineteen years in the future to teach and train students in the war. It has just finished in my time, and it was me who conquered Voldemort, because of a prophecy. I just got out of the Hospital Wing last week. I have lost lots of people in the war, as well as many in the final battle, or, as the Daily Prophet says, the battle to end all battles. Add reporters, paparazzis, and fan clubs, I couldn't handle it, so you sent me here, to help. I have a letter to you, from you, explaining my whole predicament."
He handed a neatly folded piece of parchment to the headmaster, who quickly scanned it and said, "Yes. Well, it all seems to be in order. You're hired. I'll have a couple house-elves take you and your belongings to your new room. And, Mr. Patterson—"
"Harry."
"Harry. You cannot tell anyone the future. It is extremely vital."
"Yes sir, I completely understand."
"Well then, good-night! I'll see you in the morning."
"Yes, same to you, sir."
"Albus. Call me Albus. We work together now."
"Okay. Good-night Albus.
