Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, shook her head and looked at the paper sadly.
Position Vacant, it read in a bold, flowing script.
Do you want a rewarding job?
Believe you may enjoy the challenge and satisfaction of teaching?
Know how to defend yourself against the Dark Arts?
Then this job is for you!
We require the services of a person experienced in battling the Dark Arts to prepare our students for life after they leave school.
Friendly, easy going environment looking for hardworking, loyal member
No prior teaching experience required
Magnificent grounds set amongst the spectacular scenery of the north
Great package including
Luxury Accommodation (choice of tower or dungeon setting)
All Meals prepared by the largest conglomerate of house elves in the world
All housekeeping and domestic duties including Cleaning and Laundry
Outstanding Holiday allowance
Rewarding work with excursion trips guaranteed
Generous Salary and Benefits including Private Hospital.
Bonus: Double pay for your second year!
Join our team at the most renowned magic school in the world, and start making a difference today.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Come to our open day for an interview
Minerva let out a sigh, dropped the paper on her desk, and leaned back in her chair. On the walls around her, paintings of past headmasters were shaking their heads in disbelief.
It had come down to this. With one week to go before the school was due to reopen, albeit with reduced numbers, and they still hadn’t found a Defence against the Dark Arts teacher.
It had been a battle to get the school to reopen this year at all. One of the biggest arguments Minerva had used to sway the governors was that the children needed somewhere to learn how to defend themselves. If she was forced to back down on that promise, there was a real chance that the school would be shut down.
It was not as if a huge effort to find a new DADA teacher had not been made. Many of the old teachers had been contacted, but none felt like returning to a Hogwarts bereft of Albus Dumbledore. Minerva didn't think she really wanted to have one of these ancient crones constantly reminding her that "Things were different when Dumbledore was in charge" anyway.
Kingsley Shacklebot had been interested, but he was having so much fun protecting the Muggle Prime Minister that he couldn’t tear himself away.
“You should see them,” he laughed to Minerva only a few days before. “The whole parliament of Muggles spends most of their time finding ways to get out of the few duties they have, or they work really hard covering up the things they have messed up! Honestly, I have never seen anything so funny in my life.”
The decision to put the advert in the Daily Prophet, inviting practically anybody to come in and try for the job, had not been an easy one. She had no choice; they had to find somebody.
A knock on the door to the study shook her from contemplation of the advert.
“Come in,” she called sitting up and adjusting her hair.
The door opened to admit a bushy haired, teenage girl. Hermione Granger had volunteered to help out with the interviews by taking the role of receptionist, and Minerva had been very grateful for the assistance.
“The first, er, applicant is ready, Professor,” said Hermione with a trademark worried look on her face.
“Thank you, Hermione. Please, send them in.”
Hermione appeared to be about to say something, but changed her mind and withdrew, closing the door behind her.
Minerva sat even straighter in the chair and mentally reviewed the speech and questions she had prepared. It was important that she go through the correct motions, even if at the end of the day she was forced to accept a less than perfect applicant.
The door opened and a very unexpected person entered.
Argus Filch was a squib. That is, he was born to wizarding parents, but didn’t himself have any magical ability at all. He had been caretaker at Hogwarts for a very long time, and Minerva could not imagine what he was doing here.
“Can I help you, Argus?” she asked.
“Yes miss, I’m here about the job,” he replied. For a change his mouth wasn’t curled into its normal sneer.
Minerva was at a loss for words and almost let her mouth drop open.
“How… How can you.. Er..” she stumbled, uncharacteristically at a loss for the right words.
“How can I teach when I can’t cast magic?” he offered helpfully.
Minerva nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.
“I’ve been watching magic very closely for years now,” he answered, “and I’ve been dealing with students for almost as long. I know how to make the filthy little animals behave!”
Minerva suddenly felt very uncomfortable. She thought she could see where this was going.
“I figure, so long as they have got their books, and somebody to make sure they do their homework, that is all they need,” he said trying to sound reasonable. ”Don’t worry, Professor,” he said seeing the worry on her face. “I will make them work!” he snarled.
Minerva had flashbacks of another DADA teacher who had refused to allow any students to practice what they had read. Dolores Umbridge held views very similar to Filch, and her appointment turned out to be almost the biggest disaster the school had ever seen. Filch had admired Umbridge, and her brutal disregard for the students, almost to the point of loving her. It appeared that he had taken the example to heart and was inspired to try and emulate her. That was something Minerva would rather close the school down than allow.
“Mr Filch,” she began, “the problem is, since you are already the school’s caretaker, I can’t expect you to also be the DADA teacher, can I?”
Filch shuffled nervously and let out a loud sniff. He had taken on a decidedly downcast expression at her reaction to his statement.
“There will be fewer students this year…” he said hopefully.
“I am sorry, Mr Filch, but you are far too valuable to the school in your present role. Can you imagine how hard it would be for me to find someone to replace you in the short time we have before school starts?”
Filch perked up at that statement and almost smiled as he left, a sight that generally did not make people feel very comfortable.
Once the door closed behind him, Minerva slumped back in her chair. That had been a close one. Had she upset him, she very well may have been looking for a new caretaker as well, and that was not something she wished to contemplate.
The next applicant was even less suitable than Filch.
Peeves the poltergeist floated in and insisted that he knew all the curses and hexes ever invented, since all of them had been used on him at one time or another. He had also been at the school longer than anybody except a couple of the ghosts, and had so far avoided many repeated attempts to eject him, making him most likely to be able to last longer than the one year that the position seemed to have as a limit.
When Minerva refused to give him the position, he threw a raging “hissy fit”, swept the contents of her desk off onto the floor, knocked several paintings of previous headmasters off the wall, then flew out of the room screaming rude words.
She suspected that he had only really applied to annoy Filch, and had probably followed him up here in the first place, although he had certainly taken a liking to the idea of calling himself "Professor Peeves".
Mundungus Fletcher came to apply for the job, but ended up trying to steal a set of silver scales from a small side bench near the door. An image from a children’s story entered Minerva’s mind, as she gave Mundungus the arbitrary speech, and it refused to leave her.
The story involved a very disreputable man, who trained children to steal for him; a scenario Mundungus may have already thought of, if some of his replies were anything to go by.
Minerva also didn’t like the way his eyes kept darting to the cabinet where she kept a three hundred year old bottle of brandy, as if he could smell its fine, warm aroma through the closed door. What was worse was that he had now started her thinking about how pleasant a small nip of that bottle would taste once today was over. It was very distracting, to say the least.
A hag and a vampire both applied, citing Dumbledore’s willingness to overlook ‘minor faults’ like theirs. While it was true that the previous headmaster had hired a man harbouring the spirit of Voldemort, a werewolf, a Centaur and two Death Eaters, the circumstances had been very different.
Besides, Minerva didn’t like the hungry look these new applicants had in their eyes whenever the children were mentioned. Teaching students how to defend themselves by having them constantly under the threat of attack was not how she wanted the subject taught this year, no matter how well that approach worked for Harry Potter!
Two of Hogwarts’ resident ghosts also applied, but, as Minerva pointed out to them, since they could not hold chalk or turn the pages of a book, it would be quite difficult for them to conduct their duties without assistance that she was too short staffed to offer.
Then there was also fact that one of them had been beheaded (well almost beheaded she conceded), and the other had been murdered; Not a good advertisement for their defensive skills.
They counter-argued that their long experience in Hogwarts gave them more knowledge and loyalty than anybody and, since they were already dead, it was impossible for them to suffer the fate of a few of the previous DADA teachers. That made it more likely that they would be back for the second year.
While it was true Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, was a ghost, he had been teaching his subject for so long that he knew the textbooks by heart, line and page. He even somehow managed to take some of his notes with him into the afterlife and only required minimal help.
Still, it was nearing the end of the day and Minerva had to admit the ghosts, especially Sir Nick, were the front-runners for the job.
Dobby the House-elf also applied for the position.
“Dobby be making sure nobody hurts Harry Potter’s friends Mrs Professor,” he said to a disbelieving McGonagall.
“Dobby, even though you are a free elf, you can’t actually use a wand or do human magic can you?” she asked kindly.
Dobby thought about it and answered with the same enthusiasm he always showed when he thought he was doing the right thing.
“No missus. We house-elves have our own magic,” he explained.
“But you can’t actually teach it to humans, can you?”
“No,” he admitted sheepishly, twisting the small beanie he held in his hands.
“Then you can’t actually teach, can you?”
“No,” he said as tears filled his eyes. “But Dobby doesn’t want Hogwarts to close Mrs.” he said in a strangled sob. “Dobby be liking it here, even without… even without Dumbydore!” he wailed, looking at the painting of Dumbledore on the wall. The painting looked back and chuckled kindly.
Minerva appreciated his sentiment, but it took another ten minutes to get him to leave the office so that the next applicant could come in, and then it was Winky the alcoholic House-elf Dobby had ‘rescued’ after her previous master threw her out for disobedience!
"I'll teach what it, HIC, what it really means to face the Dark Arts," she sloshed. "Worked for Dark wizards for years I did HIC. Kept all their, HIC, nasty secrets I did. Now I'll tell everyone, I tell them all HIC!"
Although Minerva was tempted to hear just what nasty secrets Winky was willing to tell, she really didn't have the time for it today. Another ten minutes were wasted getting Dobby to take Winky away.
Nine applicants down, half a day gone, and Minerva’s short list was a ghost and a petty thief! This was continuing to be her worst nightmare since becoming headmaster.
The next applicant was Cornelius Fudge, former Minister of Magic.
Minerva listened politely as he droned on and on about how good a DADA teacher he would make, but in her mind she had already decided against him.
“Mr Fudge,” she said, interrupting him. “Might I remind you that far from having been ‘working as hard as any wizard’ to ‘turn back the black tide of darkness’, you were in fact the person most responsible for allowing he-who-must-be-named to rebuild his power base?”
Cornelius sat stonily quiet, no longer smiling in his usual false, reassuring manner.
“And did you not also try to oust the former headmaster by abusing your power at the Ministry to interfere with the running of this school?” she asked.
“Well you see..” he began to answer.
"Was it not also you who verbally attacked and slandered the student who was unfortunate enough to witness Voldemort's return and fought for his very life to bring us a warning?"
"But, Minerva.." Fudge started, but Minerva was having none of it.
"If I recall correctly," she continued, almost yelling now. "You also were the one that appointed that incompetent, bloated, frog monster, Dolores Umbridge, who routinely tortured the students here during detention and even attacked and hospitalised me. Were you not?"
"Well technically..." said Fudge, still trying to interrupt the torrent of her words.
"And now you expect me to believe that you want to dedicate yourself to helping the students and faculty of Hogwarts in battling the very forces you spent all that time and energy trying to deny existed?" she asked, her voice raising to the high pitch that every student recognised as her ultimate expression of scepticism.
"I wouldn't go as far as to say dedicate.." valiantly put in Fudge, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“No, I think I know why you are really here,” Minerva said, her piercing glaze locking onto the squirming man sitting in front of her. “You wish to rebuild your popularity and power by brainwashing the current generation of students with lies and misinformation!”
She held up her hand to forestall protest.
“Furthermore, I don’t think I would ever have your full support or cooperation, and I would have to be constantly looking out that you did not try to undermine my authority and attempt to take away my position.”
“I am sorry, Mr Fudge, but you are entirely unsuitable. Good day.”
Fudge angrily stormed out of the office, muttering to himself, while several of the portraits applauded, and Minerva felt quite happy for the first time that day.
The next applicant made the wrong impression without having to utter a single word.
With bubblegum pink hair, and dressed in clothes that looked they had been found in a Muggle poor box, Tonks did not inspire Minerva with confidence.
Then she accidentally slammed the door shut, breaking the frame of one of the head master portraits, tripped over the interview chair, collided with the desk sending several bundles of parchments flying into the air, and finally spent most of the interview demonstrating all of the various noses she was able to conjure with her metamorphic skills.
Not a very impressive interview at all.
When the Weasley Twins, Fred and George came in, Minerva was sorely tempted to let them have the job, despite their obvious intention to use the students to test many of their new ‘anti-dark-arts’ products (some of which had very interesting side effects for both defendant and aggressor). They had wanted to share the position between them and claimed the students did not even have to know there were two teachers. Many of their arguments had been very persuasive.
“We know the school really well,” said George enthusiastically.
“We know all of the things students do that teachers don’t know about,” added Fred.
“Like the hidden spyholes.”
“And the secret passages.”
“And the best places to hide things.”
“And how to sneak out at night.”
“And to get back in again.”
“And where to find the answers to pop quizzes before they are held.”
“Not to mention...”
“Enough!” interrupted Minerva, suddenly worried they would tell her something she really didn’t want to know.
Truth be told, the two boys were the best candidates she had so far. If they had not been so intent on mischief and mayhem, they would have made fine students. It was only when she reminded herself that they had not actually graduated that she shook her head and sent them on their way.
“Bugger,” said Fred as they left the office. “We could really have had some fun.”
"Never mind," said George. "Remember, we can still sell to the students, since we are not their teacher."
Fred brightened considerably at that prospect, and they headed off down the hallway discussing which product would be best to aggressively market as 'Filch busters'.
Aberforth Dumbledore, former Order of the Phoenix member, proprietor of the Hog's Head pub, and brother to the late, previous headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was another surprise applicant.
He had never come across to Minerva as particularly bright, or clean, or honest for that matter, and she suspected he was applying because it was ‘expected of him’. He was not the worst applicant, even if he could not read, but there was a rather a dark cloud hanging over him regarding his unusual fascination with goats. It had, on at least one occasion, lead to his prosecution for practicing inappropriate charms on them, and Minerva suspected it may have been the real reason Albus had never openly associated with him.
Almost completely exhausted, Minerva looked up from her notes at the latest person to enter the room. By now she would not have been too surprised if the giant squid had climbed up from the lake to present its credentials.
Bill Weasley was a fine looking man, despite the horrific scars on his face. Months before, Bill had been savaged by a werewolf in human form while he was bravely defending Hogwarts from a Death Eater attack. No amount of healing, magical or otherwise, could remove those cursed marks. They added a rugged brutality to an otherwise boyish face, and the effect was quite startling, especially when taken with his impeccable dress sense and personal style.
“Bill!” exclaimed Minerva overjoyed. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you!”
At last she had someone who was suited to the position.
Bill had been a top student in his year. He did not have the mischievous, mayhem causing nature of his twin brothers, or the stiff, self-centred righteousness of his other brother Percy. He was an excellent balance between the serious and the fun loving, without the odd quirks of his father, but with the deep moral beliefs that tended to separate the Weasleys from most other ancient, pure blood families. His relative youth was no barrier in a position that often required immense stores of energy. Facing a classroom full of teenagers throwing curses at each other was not a job made for someone with a weak heart, or slow reflexes.
“I just wanted to-” Bill began, holding out a rolled up parchment. Minerva cut him off, negligently waving away his outstretched hand.
“You’re hired!” she said.
“But I just-” he began again, and again was interrupted.
“I’ll not take no for an answer,” Minerva said testily. “You are by far the best qualified applicant today and I have no need to see your resume. Nor do I desire to interview anybody else. As far as I am concerned, the position of DADA teacher is no longer vacant.”
Bill stood apparently stunned, the parchment still held in his outstretched hand.
“Now I know you will have heard the position is cursed,” continued Minerva, not waiting for a comment. “As a curse breaker for Gringotts bank, I am sure you will be able to take the second year double pay bonus; a fine sum to help when starting a new family eh?” she added with a knowing smile.
Bill was due to get married very soon. That was, after all, probably the reason he was applying for the position. He was undoubtedly looking for a more stable, less dangerous job, which would allow him to spend more time with his new bride than the demanding overseas Gringotts job permitted.
Bill’s mouth was moving but no words were coming out.
“You will not have forgotten how Hogwarts is run, since it is not that many years ago that you were here as a student yourself, so there’s no need for us to go through the formalities,” she continued, hurriedly signing a parchment and then holding it out to him.
“Take this, it is your contract. If there is anything in there you don’t like, come and see me and we will work it out. Now run along and be sure to be back on the 1st of September. We won’t have nearly as many students this year, but we may also be missing a few teachers. Congratulations Professor Weasley”
Dismissed, Bill wordlessly took the parchment and left the office.
Minerva finally relaxed. She felt a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Idly she looked at the cabinet containing the brandy. Now she just had to pick a new head for Gryfindor house!
“Ungrateful Brat!” said the painting of Phineas Nigellus, startling Minerva out of her contemplation. “Didn’t even say thank you!”
Downstairs, Bill walked back to Fleur with a bemused look on his cruelly scarred, but still handsome face.
“'Vell, ’vat did she say?” asked his fiancé, looking at the two parchments Bill was carrying. “Did she accept invitation to zee ‘vedding or not?
Bill looked around at the ancient hallway they were standing in. It suddenly looked very different to when he had walked through it on his way in shortly before.
“Kind of,” he said, smiling to himself. “Kind of.”
Finite