Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, and I don't pretend I did. Don't sue me. Don't steal my original characters. That's it.\

"Hello Rubeus, I'm Greta Muhlenkamp. The new D.A.D.A. instructor, you know?"

Hagrid looked the woman up and down in innocent appraisal. "You got big shoes ter fill."

Greta smiled. "I know; I've heard so much about Professor Lupin that I'm almost nervous about the first day of school. What if the students don't like me?"

"Don' worry; you'll manage. The kids ain't half bad, really." Hagrid stroked the feathers of a white mother Figglewindon who had just given birth to a litter of four. "Would ye do me a faver?"

"Sure, anything." Greta's glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose as she nodded. She pushed them back with the side of her hand.

"Would ye go inside and grab the first mumpleroot ye see? I need to replenish this ladies' strength, see?"

"Certainly, my dear Rubeus." And so Greta stepped inside.

Hagrid sighed. "She ain't bad as she seemed before…" he murmured to the Figglewindon, who only cooed in reply.

Greta came back out again with a large turnip-like plant.

"Here you go," she said in a sweet tone, like a mother who was about to bestow upon her child the medicine required to cure him of the whooping-cough or measles or whatnot.

Without a thought, Hagrid took out his pocketknife and, distractedly, began to cut up the root into small sliver-like pieces. All of a sudden, the knife went the wrong way and jabbed at his finger. Blood was drawn, and a long red mark began to show on Hagrid's finger.

"Aw…" Hagrid wrinkled his nose. But then, as he was about to put his finger in his mouth to cleanse it hastily, he noticed what exactly he was in the process of cutting in the first place.

"Why, this be a certamine! Not on yer life a mumpleroot!" Hagrid turned to Greta, his new opinion of her dissolved into nothingness. "What did ye want me ter do? Yer wanted me ter kill her? Just aftersuch she'd been in labor?" Hagrid stood up, holding the Figglewindon close to him. Greta said nothing; she stared up into the eyes of the half-giant not half a furlong's (whatever that is) distance.

"Be away with you then! Murderer!"

Trembling little Greta then did do away with herself. She did this by running--running like hell.

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Greta then decided to visit Professor Flitwick.

"Could you teach me a charm for warding away evildoers while at the same time changing their mood so that they don't want to do anything evil any more?"

Flitwick looked up from where he had been reading a book. "Actually, no."

"Why not?"

"Such a charm…it does not exist."

Greta stamped her foot impatiently. "Well then! It should be created!"

"You go ahead and do that." Flitwick instantly regretted his words the moment he said them. But Greta was now not to be deterred.

"A novel idea, my dear Filius. How about--this sounds nice--Alubromardi tuplenthioth!'

The floating chandelier fell down.

"Oh dear, that didn't work--how about Mayapethio Tuthfulion-ting!"

Flitwick's bookshelf spontaneously combusted.

"Now this ought to work, I'm sure--Labobardia Noarmondi!"

A map of France hanging on the east wall began to have convulsions.

Flitwick finally managed to get out of his shocked stupor and ran out the door like the devil was on his tail.

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Greta ventured into a room she had only heard rumors from the other teachers about.

"Professor Trelawney? I'm--"

"Never mind introducing yourself--let me tell you, dearie…have some tea and from the very dredges left in the cup, I'll tell you all there is to know about you."

"Thank you kindly."

"Of course, dearie. You shall be a lovely exercise for my inner eye, which sees all! Now please, take the tea service from that shelf over there and set it at this table."

"With pleasure."

CRASH.

"That…that was my grandmother's best china."

"I'm awfully sorry--"

CRASH.

"My Winchester Porcelain!"

"I…I really didn't mean to do that--"

CRASH. Thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump…

"MY CRYSTAL BALL IS ROLLING DOWN THE STAIRS!"

"It's all right…I'll go find it…"

And so Greta made her speedy departure.

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"Temperance, I've brought you some cookies I made a few days ago, hopefully you'll--"

"--Greta! I'm over here!"

"Where?"

"Ack! don't go over there, you'll…"

Sploosh.

"…fall into the molding mix."

"Oh, my dear Temperance, I'm so sorry!"

"You say you're sorry! I told you not to go over there!"

"But--"

"Leave. Now. And by the way, don't call me 'my dear!'"

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"What is this, Professor Snape?"

"Miss Muhlenkamp, I would be quite pleased if you did not…touch…that…cauldron!"

Tumble-tumble SPLASH.

"Damn you woman!"

"Professor Snape, I only wanted to--"

"--Out! OUT!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Out of my sight, confound it!"

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Dumbledore opened his eyes. Professor Greta Muhlenkamp saw this, and quickly walked back to his side just as she had been about to leave. She was sure to shut the door carefully.

Albus looked about himself. A shot glass with the remnants of firewhiskey was in his hand as it hung limply off the divan. A jug of the aforementioned liquor was on the desk.

"Oh! Headmaster…" Greta grasped his hand warmly. "What happened to you?"

It took a long time for Dumbledore to reply. "You ever been refuted in love, my dear? But of course you have; who has not?"

"It's all right." One of Greta's virtues was her ability to comfort. Perhaps she would have been better suited in life as an army nurse than a teacher. The only problem with that was probably she'd have blown herself up by the end of her first week--if one counts that as a problem.

Dumbledore smiled amid the tearstains. "Thank you, my dear. This is the only instance every five years I ever allow myself excessive alcoholic drink. So you needn't worry."

"You needn't either," Greta murmured softly. Her tone must have revealed her inner sadness to Dumbledore, even in his half-intoxicated state, and his eyes brightened in alarm.

"You…you getting along all right with the other teachers?" Albus sat up a bit.

"Well…" Greta tried to hide a tear. "They don't exactly like me…" She paused. "But that would be an understatement," she gasped, and she lowered her head as two fat tears trickled down her pale cheeks.

Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder. "They'll come to like you, never fear."

"But…it's like they have a plan…a…a conspiracy against me! And I mean, they really hate me! Professor Snape even looked as though he wanted to hit me! And all I did was upset a silly old cauldron of his!"

"They don't have a conspiracy. How could they? You haven't even met all of them yet, have you?"

"No, but…"

"But what?"

"Still, I could swear that they all totally despise me!"

Dumbledore mulled over this for a moment. "Now, I'm not you, so I couldn't say that it wouldn't seem that way. But give them some time, I'll guarantee that they'll get used to you."

Greta sighed. "Thank you, sir. I value your opinion."

Albus gave a smile. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Greta laughed. "Actually, no offense, but I don't."

"It's all very well." Albus sighed, and his hand raised to his collar to undo it a button. He found, however, that it had been already done for him.

"By the way," he added thoughtfully, "Not that it's of any importance, but how long were you in here?"

Greta looked at a magical clock on the wall. "I'd say half an hour, sir."

Albus drilled her with his eyes. "Did I say anything while I was asleep? Sometimes I have the tendency to say the oddest things." The twinkle in his eyes was restored.

Greta smiled. "No, nothing. You slept like a baby, if I do say so myself."

Albus laid his head against the pillow. "All right, if you're sure."

"…Yes."

At this point, Greta took it that she was no longer needed…or wanted, however you want to put it…and she stood.

"I'll see you tomorrow, of course, headmaster?"

"But of course; term does begin once the students arrive for dinner, after all."

Greta's hand was on the doorknob. "Goodnight then, headmaster."

"Goodnight Miss (yawn) Muhlenkamp."