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The Eldest

Chapter 2

Albus Dumbledore had a problem. Or several if he was honest.

It had come to his attention that Voldemort was sending what Dumbledore supposed were his daughters to Hogwarts to befriend Harry Potter but every time it had backfired. Now he had to reject all transfer students for fear that Voldemort was up to his old tricks, continuing to attempt a plan that just would not work. Luckily Dumbledore had escaped the last year with his life intact, but he was slowly dying anyway, his hand shrivelling up like an old prune, slowly but surely, so all that had happened was a delay in the dying process. At least now he had enough time to continue putting Harry through hell in order to fight battles that he could probably fight, or at least, older experienced people. Who needs a childhood anyway? Maybe he needed to pay Trelawney to make another prophecy, arrange for Severus to hear it again, and then set some other events into motion, because quite frankly, he was tired.

He now also had the added pressure of having to interview for a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. The Board of Governors had received too many complaints from parents to allow Severus Snape to carry on. Defence was supposed to be a fun class and they did not want it to drop in popularity. Snape had been sulking in his dungeons ever since Dumbledore gently broke the news to him.

Arranging his lemon drops, Dumbledore prepared for his latest, and only, interviewee. Word had spread that the job was cursed, and well, though Snape had not died, he had certainly not lasted longer than a year.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said, putting on his best twinkle face.

In stepped a tall woman, in her mid-twenties if Dumbledore was correct, dressed in smart robes. This was the most normal Defence teacher he had ever seen. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, and her hazel eyes shone with what Dumbledore considered was hope. He had no doubt she would be a hit with the male population of Hogwarts, and would most likely come to warm the female half.

"I am grateful you could come Miss..."

"Jenkins," the woman smiled, shaking his hand. He was transfixed for a moment, certain he had seen her face before. That confident smile, the smile of someone with a purpose. "Eleanor Jenkins. Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to see me Headmaster."

"Please take a seat, and a sherbet lemon if you would like."

"No thank you. I don't have much of a sweet tooth."

Eleanor Jenkins had declined politely, though she resisted the urge to throw the lemon drops in his face. Not only was the Headmaster probably damaging his student's teeth, they were most likely laced with a Calming Draught. And besides, Eleanor, like her father, hated all sweet things.

"So Miss Jenkins, do tell me what brings you here to Hogwarts?"

"Curiosity," Eleanor replied. "I have heard that no Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher has lasted longer than a year, and I want to see if that's really true."

"What makes you think you can last?"

"If there is a curse on the job, as the Defence teacher surely it is my job to defend myself against such Dark Arts?"

"And why Miss Jenkins, should I give you the job?"

"Because I am confident Headmaster that I am the only applicant."

Dumbledore looked over his half-moon glasses, surveying the young woman before him with twinkling curiosity. She smiled back at him, unmoved by his scrutinising gaze. After all, she was very much used to worse than this old man who was attempting to unashamedly search through her mind. She had carefully placed memories of her time at Westminster Witches Academy at the forefront, as well as what she had for lunch. After what seemed like ages, he was satisfied and smiled.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

Dumbledore now had 99 problems but at least this bitch wasn't one of them.