The Great Hall was bustling this morning, each table full of delicious breakfast foods. First years were easily identified, they were herded into lines to wait for their schedules. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor first years were easily identified by their lack of robes or socks.

"Should I follow the first years," I asked quietly.

"Of course not," Amy answered, "You're a seventh year and get first dibs at breakfast." We sat down and filled our plates with warm potatoes, pancakes, waffles, fruit, bacon, sausage and eggs, reveling in each delicious bite. Each of us had just finished vacuuming the meal from our plates before the seventh years were acknowledged for their schedules. The line dragged slowly along, each student given their schedule by Professor Lawrence.

"Hetter, Christine," I stated, masking the quaver in my voice.

"Hope you have some time to sleep Miss Hetter," Professor Lawrence warned, "Also I need to talk to you about an issue on your schedule before classes begin." I shuffled away awkwardly to let the other students receive their parchments from the Headmistress. I looked down at my piece and perused my schedule for the coming year.

Ancient Runes (Enriched): Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:15 to 10:45 (Walker)

Arithmancy(Advanced): Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 11 to 12:30 (Vector)

Charms (Advanced): Wednesday and Fridays from 2 to 3:45 (Flitwick)

Defense Against the Dark Arts: TBD

Practical Herbology: Tuesdays and Thursdays from 1 to 2:30 (Longbottom)

History of Magic: Tuesday and Friday 4 to 6:30 (Binns)

Potions (Advanced): Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays: 11 to 12 (Double every other Thursday from 11 to 1)

Transfiguration (Enriched): Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays from 8 to 9 (Lawrence)

This schedule didn't seem too daunting after my past few years at Islewood, but I would definitely need to find a lopsided balance between work and play. I compared mine to Lisa, and except for Herbology ours were identical.

"Most of your classes will be with other Gryffindors and Ravenclaws with the occasional Hufflepuff, mostly in Herbology, and you'll probably only see Slytherins in DADA."

"I'm sorry," I interrupt, "What is DADA?"

"You don't have Defense Against the Dark Arts back in the States?"

"We extensively study the dark arts and how to protect ourselves from unfriendly spells and whatnot, but all within our other core classes," I told her, "Is that why Professor Lawrence needs to speak to me?"

"Probably," Lisa replied, "She doesn't bite though."

"Agh, there is no professor listed for Seventh year DADA, we probably have some guest or something."

"Miss Hetter," Professor Lawrence called. I turned around and accepted the audience with the Headmistress.

"Back at your old school I am under the impression that there was no specialized teaching against the Dark Arts."

"To make sure that you're comfortable here, the Professors and I are going to give you a sort of placement exam," she began, "Please follow me." I followed her to the exit of the Great Hall. Professor Artiste took over handing out schedules to the rest of the cranky seventh years. We turned right and climbed three flights of stairs and came upon a door that read "3C."

"I will be joining you shortly," Professor Lawrence stated. I opened the door to a dimly lit room.

"Hello?"

Diffindo!

Expelliarmus! A wand fell to the ground and I immediately crouched at the ready to defend another attack.

Accio wand a shockingly familiar voice whispered. The sound of a door and lock opening peaked my hearing. All of a sudden I saw a small projection of myself sailing in the air on a broom. The miniature me climbed and climbed until it was at the top of the ceiling. At this moment I knew I was dealing with a boggart, showing me my biggest fears, heights. My scream pierced the room and my miniature plummeted.

Riddikulus! The image was promptly replaced with a large blue rubber duck.

"How would I go about torturing you, in the most unforgivable way," the stranger bellowed.

"The Cruciartus curse," I answered. After my nerves calmed, I knew this was not a hostile stranger, and each part of this my placement exam.

"Control your mind?"

"The Imperius Curse."

"Kill you?"

"The killing curse."

"Can you produce a patronus?" I thought long and hard about a wonderfully happy memory. The Patronus charm was hinted briefly upon during my sophomore year, and I took it upon myself to master it. I focused hard on the evening of Junior prom, spending the night smiling amongst my friends without a care in the world.

Expecto Patronum! My penguin burst from the tip of my wand and waddled through the air. The milky white animal slid on its belly down the slightly winding staircase that led to a door. I began to climb the staircase when a large boulder was conjured and came crashing into my path.

Reducto! The obstruction exploded and its pieces scattered across the classroom. A jet of light passed my face, but I heard no incantation.

Nonverbal spells I thought. I sent a jelly legs jinx in the direction of the last attack, and immediately blocked the bright blue light sent by an expulsion charm.

LEVICORPUS!

Wingardium Leviosa! At this final skirmish both my proctor and I were suspended in the air. As I struggled and hung by my feet I could see the figure of a man not far off from me.

"Maybe it would be best to end this before one of us injures the other," he declared. With this calmer and less agitated I put a voice to a face and soon my prediction was validated. Mr. Potter looked at me with a crooked smile, levitating just a few inches off of the ground.

"If you wanted to know you," he continued, "You easily place into my seventh year class." I was lowered to a proper position and shook hands with the man I spent the last fifteen minutes trying to attack.

"It's remarkable that you've learned all of that without formal Defense Against the Dark Arts training," Mr. Potter told me as we left the classroom, "But then again, most of the spells I learned, were not in that classroom."

We chatted about houses and how for this year he was a guest professor for the seventh years' Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"My magical education was very thorough here," he elaborate, "But the one aspect of Defense Against the Dark Arts that was always lacking was practicality and truthfulness."

"Does your son know you're his professor for the year?"

"Of course not, if he had known he'd be so embarrassed and tell me not to come." With this jest he turned the corner and vanished. I reached into my robe and pulled out my schedule, figuring my best bet was to head off to Transfiguration and hoping my schedule was fixed by my professors.