The following days Danny spent in rigorous preparations for the upcoming year. To the shock of the Headmaster and even McGonagall, the program for each year, for the entire year, was ready the following day after his arrival, in the evening. How he was so quick was beyond anyone, but the impression of him as a workaholic sort of stuck with him now. Still, the stern Transfiguration professor always appreciated diligence from her students, and she also took Danny's efforts as a good sign. Besides, in the duration of what was left of August he was showing himself to be a generally nice person to have around. Each time the professors went to have a meal, he was also there, always having a story to share. Few appreciated it, but those who did he had won over in the couple of weeks.

To everyone it was obvious how passionate he was about Astronomy. This led everyone to believe that that was one of the subjects he took during the American equivalent of N.E.W.T. — the final exam at Hogwarts taken during the last year. In fact, he asked Professor Sinistra, the one teaching the subject, if he could use their telescopes to observe the "Peak of the κ-Cygnid meteor shower." She gave her reluctant approval, but it was to happen under her supervision. She herself was intending to see it, so it wasn't much of a bother. The easiest way to get to someone's heart was to share interest, so Sinistra gained some sympathies towards him as well after several nights of observing the stellar events, so abundant in August.

Snape shunned the young man away from his little dungeon and forbade access to his classroom and office. Danny's comments about the dinginess of the place and wondrous synergy of the teacher and the classroom certainly had nothing to do with this. Still, he somehow managed to identify items without seeing labels, so there was obviously some knowledge within that raven head of his.

There was a run-in with Filch, the Caretaker, whose title was the opposite of what the old man actually was. The man actually mistook the young man for a wandering intruder and was about to carry him to the Headmaster, but Sir Nicholas's intervention quickly resolved the situation. Filch still believed the young man to be inadequate, and warned of keeping an eye on him. During lunch he liked to bring along his cat, Mrs. Norris, the feline that looked as threatening as its master. She was a couple of kilos of pure hatred towards everyone.

All in all, Danny seemed to blend into the collective well. And Dumbledore was pleased to hear that. He could only wonder how his teaching would go.

However, Danny felt that something was amiss. Every now and then he would stumble upon professors conversing and then briefly shutting up when they noticed him. Some professors left during the evenings despite the obvious fact that they lived here. And they certainly didn't go to Hogsmeade, because that's where Danny spent some of his own evenings. He could ask, he wanted to ask. But there was every sign that he was not going to get any answers. Everyone had the rights to keep secrets, himself included. His own project was a nice example of that.

On the last day of August Danny, just like the entire teaching staff, gathered in the Headmaster's office. Standing in front of his desk, Dumbledore gave them all a playful smile.

"Good morning to all of you, dearest friends. The beginning of the school year is upon us, and our halls will be teeming with life once again. As usual, some organisational matters. In the absence of Hagrid, Professor Grubbly-Plank shall assume his duties as usual," he pointed at an elderly witch who Danny had rarely seen before. "That also includes bringing in our first-years. There is nothing that should delay the usual procedures. Most of us know how it goes," Dumbledore said with a note of amusement as he glanced at Danny. He obviously waited to see the man's reaction tomorrow.

"The schedules are on the table as usual. Mr. Fenton, professors should have those, too."

Danny nodded as a list of paper flew into his hands. He immediately began examining it. It was a comfortable timetable, he could work with it. His teaching always began during the second period at the earliest, so he could have some extra shut-eye. A smirk crawled on his face as he turned his attention back to Dumbledore.

"There is also another thing. The Ministry seems very curious as to what is happening in our midst. Thus, the Minister has issued a decree. You've read the Prophet, I presume?"

"I've cancelled my subscription," Sprout said.

"I never bought one," Danny raised his hand, deciding to put two cents of his own.

"It's got a wonderful crossword section," Dumbledore smiled, "Keeps my mind quite entertained. But that's not it. To 'make sure that our falling teaching standards are up to the challenge' Cornelius has created the post of Hogwarts High Inquisitor."

Danny now raised an eyebrow.

"That's some weird title," he commented, "It's like they are sending someone to burn the kids on stakes."

"That is an ill omen," McGonagall seemed to agree. But she didn't look surprised at all.

"I fully agree, but we still have to show Hogwarts at its best. Ms. Umbridge will arrive tomorrow. Her duties will include visiting your lessons and giving an assessment of your perfomance. I'm afraid to say that she also has the right to dismiss teachers from her post as well."

Danny shifted uncomfortably. He barely got himself a spot here. Now there was someone who could ruin everything. Dumbledore seemed to notice the discomfort, and his look became heavier.

"You are right to worry, Mr. Fenton. You see, up until your arrival, Ms. Umbridge was the one Cornelius wanted to see at your position. You are the reason he has to resort to such unprecedented measures, risking to be seen as paranoid by those around him. Now, we do not blame you, of course. One way or another this would have definitely happened. However, you should stay on guard, because it is highly likely she will aim at you more often than at the others."

"Neat," Danny said sarcastically. "Well, can't have it all going my way. I'll do my best."

"That's a good spirit to have. I'm certain that as long as your teaching is adequate, she won't be able to sack you. This applies to everyone, of course."

With his mind heavier than he would show, Danny spent the remnant of the day. He didn't ponder on this too much. He defeated several gods back in the day. Compared to them, some bureaucrat was nothing. Their entire Ministry was nothing. Danny's finger traced the edge of a tiny cauldron. Its contents boiled, heated by a small alcohol burner beneath. He needed only a tiny fraction. A fraction of active ectoplasm. He needed to kickstart the dormant energies within. He had tried a lot of things, even his own ectoplasm-infused blood, but so far he had no success. The second ectoplasm left the body of a ghost, it was no longer active. If it was not a concentrated burst, but he didn't need explosions in his room. That's what he tried to do at the moment, what his recent experiments were all about.

"Ugh," he muttered, seeing no results. "Scratching the dittany out."

He flicked his finger and a quill scratched the plant from the list, moving on its own.

Absolutely incompatible. No reaction at all. Danny sighed, tapping on his chin. His parents were glaring at him from wherever they were. Not only because of his failures, but because he strayed so far from what they still considered science, and not magic. They never liked what their son was, tried to teach him that what his wand did was science. They were just that stubborn. Now Danny was trying to replicate their work without the lab equipment, but instead of bickers and multiple acids he utilised cauldrons and rat spleens. There was a methodology behind this, certainly. Potion making was a science to a degree. Or an art.

For a moment Danny considered trying to find Snape in the corridors of the castle, but neither was in the mood for that. Perhaps later. Besides, it was Fenton's legendary stubbornness that thwarted any idea of asking that guy for help.

The next day was extremely important. From the morning Danny remained at the tip of his toes. Early on he put the best clothes he had. Which, admittedly, wasn't much. He was one step away from being a vagabond, but he kept those for a proper situation. Professors weren't obliged to wear uniforms, as long as the outfits were decent. He wore a white half-sleeved shirt and black pants with a silvery trim at the seams, with accompanying black dress shoes and black gloves. He didn't have anything better to wear. That's why he was intending to parade near the professors during the day. If they pointed out that he was dressed too indecently, he would go to Dumbledore and beg for a small payment in advance. That would be quite embarrassing.

Going out of his room, Danny set out for the stroll. The professors he happened to encounter didn't seem to mind. That's how he spent most of his time in an attempt to unwind after another failure. He had got his bearing of the place just right. His ability to go through walls and fly allowed for quick mind-mapping of the place. Danny had no desire to meet the Inquisitor, so he jumped at the first opportunity he could get. When around noon Professor Grubbly-Plank set off for to prepare for the arrival of children, Danny asked to accompany the elderly witch. Something told the young man that his intentions were clear to her and all others who heard of his request. But Grubbly-Plank didn't address the matter, she was a nice old lady like that.

However, she could also see that he wasn't happy with this. Danny would prefer to continue his experiments while his schedule was still pretty free. He wouldn't have such luxury in the future, after all. So, sitting at the station was not something he particularly enjoyed. Luckily the old witch found something for him to do.

"Don't fall behind, boy," she instructed, and Danny kept up the pace with the surprisingly nimble lady.

"Uhm, Wilhelmina, you haven't said what we will be doing."

"Nothing extraordinary. To get kids to the school we need carriages. And to pull the carriages we need animals."

"So..."

"We need to feed them, you know. And prepare the carriages too."

They entered the Forbidden Forest. Wilhelmina soon realised that Minerva's story of the boy's strangeness were true. He was sneakier than most creatures she had encountered, and that said a lot. Even so, Danny seemed to realise his mistake of being the cause of concern. Thus, he caught up with the older professor and walked by her side. However, he soon came to a halt upon seeing just what was supposed to carry the students to Hogwarts. There was a herd of horse-like creatures, albeit to call them that would be a stretch. Their faces resembled a dragon, their skin, dark and so thin that the entire skeleton could be seen. From their backs sprouted wings — black, leathery, resembling those of bats.

"Wait... you are using thestrals for that?" Danny couldn't help but ask in surprise.

"Don't you worry, our herd here is a friendly bunch. You can see them, huh."

The young man looked away. "Yeah. For a while by now."

Ever since he was fourteen, in fact. Although seeing them on the merit of accepting his own death was certainly one way of going about it.

"Well, this makes it much easier," she obviously chose not to press. "Take off that rucksack and let's get to feeding. No more than one piece for each, no need to spoil them too much. Foals prefer rabbit meat, so if you see such a piece better give it to them."

Danny nodded at the instructions and approached the grim-looking beings. Despite their haunting appearances, their treatment of the newcomer was almost... cordial. When he dropped the meat before them, the thestrals' reaction was to take a piece and then nudge the young man slightly with their heads. They even seemed to accept his headpats. Thestrals always seemed to get bad reputation, they were a sign of bad omen due to them being seen only to those who had witnessed it. Which seemed like a very backwards logic to Danny's mind. After all, a grim omen after seeing death was not something all that foreboding. In fact, their appearance was merely a reaffirmation.

With their friendly behaviour it wasn't hard to get them to the carriages. The evening was clear on that day. The Creature Care professor also noted that the boy was... clumsy to an extent. It was understandable, really, it was probably his first time managing the steeds, even those as friendly as this herd. It was probably too early, but better this than making the new arrivals wait for hours. As he and Wilhelmina sat on one of the benches near the station, Danny supposed he could relax after a tiresome process. The first years, as he was told, were taken to Hogwarts by boats. Thestrals were reserved for older students. Still, the amount of carriages was no joke, so he was pretty tired. He closed his eyes, relaxed and leaned back in his seat. Until he was interrupted.

"Hem, hem."

It was a very girlish cough, an attempt to call attention. Danny opened his eyes and was immediately assaulted by the barrage of pink. Pink puffy cardigan, pink handbag which didn't seem like you can fit anything at all in it. For a moment Danny thought that she was the owner of that cafe for couples back in Hogsmeade. Such presumption was caused by the oh so similar colour scheme. It was a lady that now celebrated jubilees and not birthdays, if he was to guess her age from the appearance. Her wrinkles, her expression of a frog that had caught a very delicious fly, all made her look like said amphibian. Danny rarely felt negative emotions towards a person he just met, but she didn't look like good news at all.

"Can we help you?" Grubbly-Plank asked.

"Yes, indeed," the lady responded in a sugary voice. "You are from Hogwarts, am I correct?" She asked, not giving Danny a second look.

The older professor nodded. "That's right. And you are?"

"Dolores Jane Umbridge. I was recently appointed as the High Inquisitor. Certainly you've heard."

A snort and a snicker finally made her pay attention to another person in their midst.

"I fail to see what's so amusing here," she kept the smile, but, from the tone of her voice, she didn't like this one bit.

"Well," Danny rolled his eyes. "When the words 'High Inquisitor' are used, a person with your sense of fashion is not something that comes to mind. I certainly expected someone else. Not to offend of course."

"Is this your helper?" Umbridge asked Wilhelmina. "He surely could use some manners."

"He is actually a professor."

The guest's eyes widened a bit. "It appears Cornelius chose just the time for me to intervene. This is simply inexcusable."

"I'm still standing here," Danny said. "And so far you are being the bigger piece..."

"Daniel, I think we've lost one of the thestrals on our way here. Would you kindly count them all?"

He knew what the fellow professor was trying to do. To give him an excuse to leave without ruining his chances at the very start. As long as he didn't have to cross paths with her until the dinner. To think he had stumbled upon her by trying to avoid.

-Linebreak-

The four long tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, still a reflection of the sky above it. The candles floated in midair, and in their flickering light was basked the entirety of the vast room, every nook, cranny, ghost and eager students. The chatter, the shouting of greetings of long-separated friends made the Hall simmer with life like a cauldron left on fire. And as he passed the rows of students, Harry Potter noticed people putting their heads together to whisper; he gritted his teeth and tried to act as though he neither noticed nor cared.

He knew the cause of those whispers. Over the course of summer he suddenly stopped being the Boy Who Lived and quickly morphed into an attention-seeking puppet of the power-seeking Headmaster. He had his own reasons to be angry with Dumbledore — all the secrets and lies the old wizard fed him for the entirety of summer, but the Headmaster was most certainly not using him for some unknown goal. Lord Voldemort came back to life, and he had to live with that fact, all alone, during several months of summer break. And all those rumours circulating around him, their apotheosis of ignorance, was seen during the trial at Wizengamot. That certainly made the news too, giving even more meat to the vultures.

Luna, their newest Ravenclaw acquittance, quietly drifted away from him and his friends to join her housemates. The moment they reached Gryffindor's table, Ginny Weasley sat alongside her own friends, one year younger than Harry; he, his friends Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom found seats together about halfway down the table between Sir Nicholas and Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, the last two of whom gave Harry airy, overly-friendly greetings that made him quite sure they had stopped talking about him a split second before. He had more important things to worry about, however: he was looking over the students' heads to the staff table that ran along the top wall of the Hall. However, soon, his redheaded friend nudged him.

"Ehm, Harry. Is it only me or is there a student sitting near Snape?"

Ron's remark made not only him, but Hermione as well look at the table and seek the one he had mentioned. And to their surprise, there was indeed a young, raven-haired man sitting by the professor. He seemed to be chatting with Severus about something, albeit the man in dark robes was reluctant to respond. Furthermore, every fibre of his being told the teens that that conversation was an unwanted one. From the movement of his lips they could see that his answers were concise and did not seem to satisfy another man.

"Yes. It is not just you," Harry responded. "What gives?"

"I don't know," Hermione uttered a sentence that was unbecoming of her. "But he is obviously not a student. I've never seen him before."

"Well, you ain't the most sociable person around, 'Mione," Ron shrugged, earning himself a brisk glare. "You can't know everyone around."

"I am a prefect, too, Ronald, for your information."

"Guys," Harry broke them out of their little argument. "Hagrid isn't there."

His friends once again followed his gaze, immediately noticing the lack of one half-giant.

"He can't have left," said Ron, sounding slightly anxious.

"Of course he hasn't," declared Harry without a shadow of a doubt.

"You don't think he's ... hurt, or anything, do you?" said Hermione uneasily.

"No," came a firm response.

"But where is he, then?"

Harry leaned forward, trying to not let any extra ears to hear. "Maybe he's not back yet. You know, from his mission, the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore."

"Yeah ... yeah, that'll be it," said Ron, sounding reassured, but Hermione bit her lip, looking up and down the staff table as though hoping for some conclusive explanation of Hagrid's absence. "You think that guy is his replacement for a time?"

"No," said Hermione absent-mindedly. "Grubbly-Plank is there, too. Besides, he is way too young to teach. Who's that?" she asked, pointing towards the middle of the staff table.

And her finger just so happened to land in the centre, right near Dumbledore. At one Dolores Umbridge.

In the meantime, Danny was too busy to notice the witch talking to Dumbledore. He found pestering Snape much more enticing.

"I'm telling you, Severus, those were green glowing octopuses!" He told the annoyed wizard who had no ability to leave the Feast.

"Your stories get less and less original as they go," a comment followed.

"Is that supposed to be my fault? Alright. Alright, I got it. You have no appreciation for my wondrous adventures. I actually wanted to ask you for something."

The feeling of dread rose in the Potion master's stomach.

"No."

"You haven't even listened!"

"Should have thought twice before emitting all that white noise."

Danny pouted. "You are mean, Severus. I wanted to ask... for your help in my project that, at the moment, demands certain knowledge."

"That you seldom have."

"Harsh, but... true. You are a potions professor. Certainly you have the expertise."

"I do and I see no reason to educate someone who is supposed to teach himself."

"I'm not teaching the potions, right? I have a reason for you, Severus. We can advance the alchemic science! I'm positive nobody ever tried to accomplish what I want to do."

"What is the purpose? Is that potion you are making of any use, even?"

"Well, it is not a potion per say, rather making one ingredient into a new one, namely ectoplasm."

"Ectoplasm," Snape huffed, "It is completely pointless. It is an otherworldly substance. By definition it does not interact with what we have."

"My parents somehow managed it, Severus. I may not have their tools, but I know for a fact that there is a way around it. That's why I want to strike a deal with you."

"Not now," Severus declared, leaving no room for arguments.

Danny wasn't sure if an opportune moment would ever come, but he didn't have time or opportunity to rebut the attempt at closing the discussion. For before he could say anything, the doors of the Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall went inside, leading a line of scared-looking eleven-year olds. She carried a worn-out hat in her hands, and Danny raised a confused eyebrow. The local rituals seemed rather bizarre. He was about to ask the man he loved to pester, but once the witch approached a stool that was in front of the staff table, she summoned a scroll and decided to explain it all, to the quiet gratitude of the half-ghost, even if it was an explanation directed to the oblivious kids.

"When I say your name, sit right here and I shall place the hat on your head. When it declares to what house you belong, join your housemates at the table."

That also brought up another question. Danny turned to Severus, and he was not escaping from that one. Or so he thought, the young man hadn't expected the hat to begin singing. It was so sudden that Fenton didn't even know how to react to this. However, as he listened to the lyrics, he got the odd feeling that it wasn't normal for it to give a veiled warning. From the faces of the older students, from their whispers, the fragments of which reached his sensitive ears even through the applause, Danny could guess that that song was a part of an entirely new album.

As Minerva began calling out the names of the newest arrivals, Danny diverted his attention back to the Potions professor.

"How does the hat decide it?" He asked.

"It is a powerful Legilimency artefact," Severus said, not expecting to hear a continuation.

"Really? You dig into the heads of small kids? That sounds... morally dubious."

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted, startling the young man.

"It is the tradition," Snape gave a small glare, as if his previous expression was not antipathetic enough. "They are too young to hold some skeletons in the closet. And the hat does not divulge anything."

Honestly, he was surprised that the boy knew of Legilimency. However he was unsure if the young professor knew the ways of resisting it. If so, it was another mystery to add to the man who was more than he let on.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Danny leaned back in his seat, hearing his stomach grumble. He wanted to get to the good part where they stuffed their stomachs. Slowly the line of new students thinned, and once the girl named "Zeller, Rose" was Sorted into Hufflepuff as well, Danny saw the old Headmaster rise to his feet, as Minerva marched away with the hat and the stool.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Danny joined in with the appreciative laugh, as the table before him filled up with all sorts of food, so much of it that Danny feared that the joints of the table would give up. Smiling at the Headmaster eagerly throwing his beard behind shoulder so as not to get hair in his dinner, the young professor began eating as well. He was not blind, he saw the glances of students thrown his way. To some extent, he took pleasure from this situation. He felt like an exemplary student that was praised by the teacher and used as an example of what one should be like. He never got that feeling before. He was by no means a bad student during his years at Ilvermony or muggle school before that, he was just... average. At the moment it felt like it was more than just earning money and finishing his work. Now he was given a chance to show how much he had changed since then.

Danny decided to finally leave Severus alone, and the latter was certainly happy with the arrangement. As happy as he could be, that is. Danny turned to his left side, and began an enticing dialogue about the coming eclipse with Professor Sinistra. There wasn't much substance to it, with them too busy eating. The feast was not endless, however, and eventually, when everyone was stuffed, Dumbledore decided to speak again. Danny didn't really want to listen. He wanted to sleep.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door. We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Fenton, our new Defence Against Dark Arts teacher."

A round of confused, hesitant applause followed. Still, Danny gave his nod and a small smile. They would come around, he could understand their surprise.

"And also, we are ought to introduce Miss Umbridge, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. I'm certain that..."

"Hem, hem."

Without asking, without a warning Umbridge stood up, and it was obvious to everyone that she intended to give a speech of her own. Danny was quite certain that that's not how things went around here. It was rude, uncalled for, and she could at least wait until Dumbledore was finished. Still, the Headmaster didn't seem to mind, he simply went back to his seat, his eyes curiously eyeing the newcomer. He showed every bit of desire to hear her speak.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish. Danny held an instinctive rush of negative emotions just hearing her speak.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

Danny saw none of that in the Hall. And he would know, he had what amounted to the first row.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends! The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching..."

She gave a glance towards the youngest professor, but quickly continued, the rest of her speech vanishing within a metaphorical fog. Danny listened to her go on and on, but the meaning of her words was lost to him for the larger part. She obviously had no experience with crowds and how speeches were meant to be delivered. He looked at her, but his eyes were glassy — his mind was currently elsewhere. His boredom was probably ill-concealed, because under the table he received a knee kick by Professor Snape that got Danny out of his dull stupor.

"...because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

Danny didn't like that part at all. He heard the underlying message directed at him as well. She thought little of him, so he would be only glad to indulge him. Danny took a small sip of pumpkin juice, his eyes never leaving Umbridge as she went back to the table. Dumbledore stood up again, thanked Umbridge for her speech, which, to Danny's mind worked as a perfect lullaby, he himself continued to elaborate on some scholarly affairs. The young professor was hooked on the prospect of seeing Quidditch matches, and his expression brightened up just a bit. And then he saw stares once again. The fact that he saw Nicholas conversing with some students at the same time made the young man raise his eyebrow.

"Blimey, the guy's look is giving me creeps," Ron muttered.

"You are exaggerating, Ron," responded Hermione, "Why is he looking at us, though?"

"Well, I am a celebrity, don't you know?" Harry gave a sarcastic remark. "Is he really our teacher?"

"You heard Dumbledore. How could he let someone so young to teach?" The bushy-haired girl voiced her slight frustration, "We have O.W.L.s this year!"

"Maybe the Ministry told him?" Harry offered, "That Umbridge woman obviously is here to control everything. This may be one of the ways to do it."

"I don't think so," Hermione shook her head. "He doesn't seem to like her as well."

"Why not both?" Asked Ron, "They might work there, but not like each other."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Sir Nicholas said, "Daniel is a wonderful young man. Sanguine, too. And he is extremely proficient, I assure you."

"How do you know all this, Nick?" Questioned Ron.

Despite his past, insulting attempts at speaking through the filled mouth, Nick decided to indulge the red-headed prefect, not noticing that not only the trio was listening, but almost everyone nearby.

"He's been staying here for almost month," The ghost answered smoothly, "We had a lot of chances to talk and interact. He just came here one day and asked for a job. I don't know how he did it, but the Headmaster and Professor Flitwick were greatly impressed. You are in good hands, I assure you."

"That sounds shady," muttered Ron.

"Don't let him hear you say that," pointed out Harry, looking at the professor in question, making their eyes cross. Professor Fenton only smirked and tilted his head.

"I hope you are right, Sir Nicholas," Hermione said, "This is the worst time for us to have an incompetent DADA teacher. Especially with... you know."

With Voldemort lurking around, that's what she meant to say. People needed to know how to protect themselves, they had to. How could someone so young be a professor of such a subject? Guess he would have to wait until the first DADA lesson began.

The following day for the trio was, how to put it, an exhausting one. The first subject was the History of Magic. One would think that learning about the rebellions of goblins and wars with giants was enticing, but the teacher, a ghost under the name of Professor Binns, managed to make even the most intriguing story into a sleep-inducing tool Umbridge would be envious of. He was always sleepy, his voice was drowsy and it was to be expected. He burned alive in the fireplace once he fell asleep near it. And as such, since these echos of human lives were an exact, unchanging copy of the being at the time of death, this behaviour never changed, the lessons remained the same. It was hard for Harry and Ron to pass, and it was entirely the courtesy of their diligent friend, reluctant and scolding as she was.

Next, were the potions. This went without any changes on Snape's part. Potions master stated clearly that after that year, shall a student take an O.W.L. in his subject and not achieve the highest grade, they would be bidding their farewells. His pleasure at the prospect was not hidden at all. In the end, the usual treatment of Potter from the teacher was to be observed. Harry failed to brew the Draught of Peace, 'a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation'. And as a result, he received a lot of humiliating scolding targeting him in particular.

Ron and Hermione joined Harry in the Great Hall. The ceiling had turned an even murkier grey during the morning. Rain was lashing the high windows.

"That was really unfair," said Hermione in an attempt to console her friend, sitting down next to Harry and helping herself to shepherd's pie. "Your potion wasn't nearly as bad as Goyle's; when he put it in his flagon the whole thing shattered and set his robes on fire."

"Yeah, well," said Harry, glowering at his plate, "since when has Snape ever been fair to me?"

Neither of the others answered; all three of them knew that Snape and Harry's mutual enmity had been absolute from the moment Harry had set foot in Hogwarts.

"I did think he might be a bit better this year," said Hermione in a disappointed voice. "I mean ... you know ..." she looked around carefully; there were half a dozen empty seats on either side of them and nobody was passing the table " ... now he's in the Order and everything."

"Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots," said Ron sagely. "Anyway, I've always thought Dumbledore was cracked to trust Snape. Where's the evidence he ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?"

"I think Dumbledore's probably got plenty of evidence, even if he doesn't share it with you, Ron," snapped Hermione.

Harry had enough of their pointless arguments. Snapping at their friends to cut it out, he left the Great Hall without eating properly.

Perhaps, after meeting again in Divination class, he regretted not eating that pie. Because his friends conceded, but his stomach was just as empty. Divination was, just as expected, a pile of rubbish to everyone who wasn't Trelawney herself. The lady predicted Harry's death more times than he dared to count. She didn't give as much care to the exams, probably realising deep inside that nobody in their right mind would sit an exam on her subject of all things. Still, the professor decided to prepare the kids for the subject. And thus ordered to keep a sleep diary for the whole month. It didn't seem hard, but the hustle was more than it was worth. Already, and Ron didn't fail to mention the fact, they got a ton of homework from each subject so far, be it a lengthy essay on giant wars or moonstone. Their only hope were the upcoming couple of lessons with the biggest unknown of this year.

The DADA classroom remained unchanged. The professor in question was absent, but both the Slytherins and Gryffindors took their seats. The timing was tight, and the lesson was supposed to begin soon after they sat. Some believed that the professor would be late, but, to disprove their words, the sound of the closed door rang across the room. His timing was perfect. Professor Fenton, dressed in the same shirt and pants as yesterday, went to the front of the class. He wasn't noticed immediately by everyone, but his call made the class go a bit quieter. The new teacher was an enigma, so they didn't know how harsh the discipline would be.

"Alright, settle down, people!" He said, turning to face the students, a small smile on his face. "I know that the beginning of this year is exciting for you all, but you will have the time to talk afterwards. You already know who I am, but even so, I am Daniel Fenton, your professor for this year. I am twenty, if anyone is curious. But don't be discouraged, for I assure you, my knowledge is plentiful enough. I sincerely hope that our work will be fruitful. As you all have been told the importance of this year, I will probably have little to say that will be new to you about it. As you know, this year you will be taking the Ordinary Wizarding level exam..."

He lightly moved his finger as he talked, and everyone could see the letters on the blackboard being written by a floating piece of chalk. From the faces of some students he could obviously see surprise. But he didn't stop his small talk to address it.

"The standards for the subject have been rather... inconsistent," he said, making the kids fear the repetition of yesterday's lecture as he paced around the room slowly. "It was bound to leave gaps and white spots in your education, and I severely doubt that the person checking your results will be kinder due to that reason. However! I recommend you not to think that the exam will result in your decapitation. Of course it won't. It is just an exam, and with proper studying you will ace them with no problems. It's not the end of the world. This subject is more than letters in a book that you, hopefully, bought as was instructed. No, the main exam of this subject is your future life. Because the creatures you can meet may just want to kill you, be it a Grindylow or a Death Eater."

Harry could feel most of the class stiffen. He himself was surprised at how easily the professor talked about the followers of the Dark Lord. His friends probably had the same reaction.

"So, expect this, students," He stopped near the desk, "We will go over the material that you have already seen and may encounter in your exam. Not only that, but this is also the year during which you shall continue your path to becoming someone capable of protecting yourselves. That's pretty much it."

Upon giving another look around the room, his smile turned into a smirk. "Now, however, you won't be needing wands for the next half an hour. Please take out your quills."

The students looked at each other and at the teacher questionably. The dour mood was present in the air, for in their minds an order to put away the wands was a sentence to boredom. Harry took his quill and ink, while the professor lazily moved his palm, and pieces of parchment slowly flew from his table and before each student. The colours seemed to drain from everyone's faces upon reading what was there. Ron's face especially. Hermione's hand shot up at an instant, and the professor noticed.

"Yes, miss..."

"Granger," she said. "Professor, don't you think it is too early for a test? It is our first lesson."

Many students seemed to agree, some nodded.

"A valid question," Professor Fenton responded with a note of amusement and put his gloved hands inside his pockets. "Now, I see the dread in your eyes. The purpose of this test is to determine what are the aforementioned gaps for each one of you. Whether they can be resolved by simple reading to refresh the memory or by deep extra studying we shall see in the future. Don't worry, the results here are not going to harm your grades in any way. This should serve as a guideline to you and me, nothing else. If you get a good result, I may just add a couple of points to your house, too," he winked, "You have thirty minutes, please, begin."

Harry looked down at his parchment, surprisingly calm. That's not what he would like to do, nor what he had expected to. Ron was already seemingly fuming, but he was still writing the answers where he could. Harry examined the questions closer.

'Name the places where imps choose to nest in'

'Draw the wand movement required for Homorphus Charm'

'State the way of weakening Kappas'

There was about twenty questions in total. The professor wasn't kidding when he mentioned white spots. Those were the topics covered during the previous years, and to say that Harry didn't have difficulties was a lie. The questions from the last year did not evaporate from his mind completely, so he did write something. Professor Lupin, from his third year, was a proficient man, so the topics covered back then also found their reflection in his answers. But the first and second... that was the swamp Harry dedicated most of his time towards. Harry also took time glancing around. Hermione's parchment looked ready to get set on fire from the quill movements. Ron was chewing on his. Neville in the back of the class looked ready to faint. Malfoy, surprisingly, seemed to be in not so bad position. Not wishing to lag behind, Harry looked back to his paper and continued his attempts.

"Alright, everyone," Professor Fenton clasped his hands and got attention. "Time's up. Just put away your quills and let the parchment rest on the tables."

Harry's test floated right under his quill and floated to the teacher's desk. The Professor then coughed and continued to talk.

"Splendid. Can't wait to start the paperwork," he commented. "Our schedule should be like this. From now on we shall dedicate our first lesson of Monday to revising the material. The second we will devote to the entirely new information. Yes?" He saw a raised hand.

"Dean Thomas. Does that mean we get two separate homeworks?" The dark-skinned boy asked with concern.

The professor chuckled. "The revision is once a week. The new material is taught twice. Revision depends mostly on how well you do personally. And, of course, the amount of work will largely vary with your desire to partake in the O.W.L.s. Or lack thereof. However, until I check your tests, you can rest easier. Any other questions concerning the program? No? Very well. Then let us get to the good part," he smiled warmly as his ice-blue eyes seemed to spark.

"What do you kids reckon to be the most common spell in the field we are currently studying?"

Several hands shot up in the air. The professor seemed to be inviting students to speak with his gaze and gestures.

"Knockback jinx?"

"A bit simplistic. And also rudimentary."

"Petrificus Totalus."

"You'll die before you pronounce it."

"Expelliarmus."

The professor raised his finger, looking at Harry with a smile.

"Now that is closer to the truth, Mr. Potter. It is correct that the spell is indispensable in many cases, because even giants have clubs that can be taken away. Can you name the inventor?"

Harry faltered and reddened a bit. He didn't know. It was his most common fighting spell, and yet he didn't know such details.

"I don't know, sir," he admitted.

"Well, maybe someone else, then?" The professor asked. "Ms. Granger."

"It is actually unknown who created it. Some speculate that it was created in Madagascar in the XI century. Some think Merlin invented it, but most believe that the inventor is Elizabeth Smudgling."

"Madagascar seems far-fetched, don't you agree?"

"Well, the natives probably didn't speak latin," Hermione thought aloud.

"Indeed. Nonetheless, it is the historians' fault, not yours. Two points to Gryffindor. You kids have studied the spell in your second year, if I am not mistaken."

"Studied is a strong word, sir," Seamus Finnigan said. "Lockhart was a joke."

"Really now?" The professor raised an eyebrow. "And what happened?"

"After Professor Snape beat him with this single spell, he was so frustrated that he was reluctant to teach it."

Fenton whistled. "I will need to ask Severus about it. If such is the case, those who know how to use the spell, please raise your hands."

Around half of the students raised their hands, and Fenton's lips thinned.

"That's rather... disheartening. Even more reason to begin our practice from smaller things. Any volunteers to help me with the demonstration?"

Something urged Harry to do just that. To use his most polished spell and possibly get points for that? Sign him up. Harry raised his own hand, and the professor noticed him.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Very good. Come stand here," Fenton gestured at the large space between his desk and those of students'. As Harry slowly got up, the professor continued. "I think we should also take a practitioner from another house for the sake of balance..." he searched for volunteers amongst the snakes. "And you are..."

"Zabini."

"Wonderful!" The professor said jovially.

Harry gave a glance to Malfoy. Their own memory of the duelling club back in their second year was still fresh in their minds. It gave the teen some pleasure seeing his rival so reluctant to come out. Although Harry himself was not sure what was going on within the professor's mind.

"Now what I am asking from you is to demonstrate the use of the spell on each other. Yes?"

"Isn't it the teacher's job to give demonstration?"

Despite the rude undertones of Parkinson's question, Fenton decided to indulge her.

"Indeed. But our situation is not traditional either," he said, taking a step back and letting two students face each other. "Alright, who goes first?"

"Expelliarmus!" Zabini shouted, effectively disarming Harry. His wand jumped out of his hand and rolled under Neville's table. The Gryffindor tried to dig it out from there. Harry glared at the dark-skinned Slytherin, while the professor coughed.

"That is a violation of duelling ethics, Mr. Zabini," he commented sternly. "However, this is an exemplary casting and a good experience for you, Mr. Potter, and everyone present. Always be ready for the attack. In a real fight all dirty methods count."

Harry nodded begrudgingly and took the wand from Neville. At the professor's nod, the teen casted a spell of his own. And despite's Zabini's strongly clutched hand, the wand slipped out as if covered in oil, flying across the room.

"Splendid," Fenton clasped his hands. "Now, notice this, students. The accent is placed on the second syllable 'Pel'. Mr. Potter, could you picture the hand movements on the blackboard?"

Harry nodded and approached it, picking up a piece of chalk. The writings from before had been long since wiped with a piece of cloth. The teen pictured the movement — a spiral and a straight diagonal line preceding it. Harry looked at the teacher, who gave an enthusiastic nod.

"Good. You may take your seats, gentlemen," and as the children returned to their seats, the professor kept speaking. "Aside from being utilised for disarming, Expelliarmus can effectively defend you from Dark Charms directly. Obviously it won't protect you from the Killing Curse, but you will be safe from minor and moderate ones, if your aim is adequate..."

Harry saw Hermione vigorously taking notes from the young man's lecture. As did some others. Not wishing to lag behind, he also took notes, albeit with less enthusiasm. He had some first-hand experience, he knew that part. And so did the teacher, from the seems. With him being so youthful, he left Harry impressed at how much Fenton knew about a spell as simple as this. After several torturous classes, this one was a welcomed outlet. In such way they slowly crawled towards the end of the lesson. Between his explanations, he also called out the students who already could cast the spell and evaluated them. When the professor looked at the clocks, he smiled.

"Well, the first class is about to end. Your homework for this week shall be as follows..." He took a list. "We need every student of this class to be capable of using this spell. And so as not to spend too much time on this, we will assign every knowledgeable student to the less successful one."

Neville seemed nervous, Harry noted. Yes, the professor decided to take it upon himself to assign partners. Fenton's smirk was a herald of the bomb about to be dropped.

"Did I mention that you are helping a student from the other house?"

The class fell absolutely silent, before a wave of confusion and outrage rolled over the class. The professor first waited for the noise to die down, but it didn't. Harry himself was appalled by the prospect of having to help a snake. Heaven forbid him from having to help Draco's henchmen. Finally, Fenton sighed and coughed.

"QUIET!" He exclaimed.

The sudden booming voice forced everyone to fall silent. Despite losing his composure for a moment, the professor soon returned to his usual behaviour. He rubbed his temples and continued.

"The word is final, everyone. Now allow me to explain the workings further, based on example. A Gryffindor assigned to a Slytherin. Shall the latter succeed, both houses get points, and the one being taught earns more. Shall the latter fail, I will take away the points equally. And even that equal number is bigger than what one may earn, so don't even think of attempting sabotage. These instructions are at the bottom of the list. Feel free to copy those, I will leave it at the door of my office later. If you need to practice, seek me out and I will observe your attempts. We don't need traumas and detentions for unsanctioned use of spells. Now, come take a look at the list and take a break. You have time before the second lesson."

As he finished, the bell chose to ring. Giving everyone a nod, the professor went back to his office. The pandemonium was unleashed, as every student wished to see who they were paired up with. And thus, they created a huge crowd in front of the desk, pushing each other away. Harry chose to stay aside and let the crowd disperse a bit. Hermione was of the same mind, while Ron actively partook in the entire mess. One after another, the teens emerged from the crowd, disgruntled, scared or frustrated.

"Well, that was... something," commented Harry, more into the air.

Ron emerged from the crowd as well, looking pissed as all hell.

"That crazy git!" He raised his voice and landed back in the seat.

"It's so bad?" Asked Harry.

"Goyle, Harry. I have to help out Goyle of all people. Do you realise how screwed we are?! It's as if our git professor decided to make the entire class hate him!"

"And me?" Harry inquired, afraid to hear a response.

"Crabbe."

The dark foreshadowing of Harry's seemed to be to the point. And his mood took a nose-dive that very instant.

"What even is the point?" He muttered.

"Well..." Hermione started. "You heard the hat. It wants every house to work together. Perhaps Professor Fenton took it to heart and tries to bring everyone together."

"This is bollocks," responded Ron. "Ain't no way I am working with them. Hermione, their parents are Death Eaters!" He whispered.

"But the professor doesn't know that. You heard how he talks, he is not even from Britain."

"'Mione, he assigned you to Parkinson."

Hermione remained silent for a while. "We ARE doomed."

Her declaration was so unbecoming of her that both of her friends were taken aback.

"He obviously doesn't know how things are done here," Said Ron. "But... he is a good teach. Maybe."

Harry nodded, "Yeah. He probably knows the stuff. Certainly better than Quirell."

"The same guy that had You-Know-Who in the back of his head? Like, literally?"

The trio chuckled.

"He is odd, though," pointed out Hermione.

"Well yeah, he dumped teaching the biggest dumdums on us."

"He did not just walk away and told us this. Remember how the practice should be done? Don't go to the courtyard and just tell Goyle to try the spell. You both will get kicked out of school."

"If it shows Goyle out..."

Hermione's glare was enough to stop Ron before he could finish his blasphemous thought. Then she saw pale Neville landing nearby.

"Neville?"

"Malfoy is going to assist," he answered the obvious question, and the trio's faces turned horrified.

"Neville, you should go talk to the professor. Malfoy will be the death of you."

"I know," the clumsy boy mumbled.

"It isn't so bad, is it?"

Everyone jumped out of their seats at the sudden voice. They looked in direction of the sound, and saw that the professor was standing there, confusion on his face.

"P-professor!" Neville yelped.

"How... long were you standing there?" Asked Ron fearfully.

In response he only got a smirk. "No, I didn't hear you call me git," he said innocently. And now the redhead paled. "I remember when I had to nurture a bag of flour alongside the lady that wanted to murder me. Muggle studies. Don't ask."

"Ehm... why are you bringing that up, sir?"

"I'm saying that it cannot be that bad."

"You are mistaken, Professor," said Harry, "Neville and Malfoy are the worst combination there is."

Fenton sighed, "We'll talk about it after the lesson. It's your last one for today, right?"

Upon receiving nods, he gave one of his own. "Okay, then. Stay after class if you wish to discuss it."

The professor strolled to the front of the class again.

"Blimey. How did he sneak up on us so easily? I haven't heard anything. It's like he apparated."

"You can't apparate in Hogwarts. And it is also very loud."

"I can't believe that guy," Ron shook his head and sat at his spot.

The class went into motion, as the students slowly began sitting at their desks. Harry could see the professor dismissing everyone and telling them to take their seats. Fenton sat on the desk and waited, and very soon the bell rang again. He immediately hopped off and began speaking after the ringing came to an end.

"Very well, students. Let us go straight into action without further ado. The first subject we shall cover..."

"Hem, hem."