"Will you consider my proposal?"
"That depends, Headmistress lady."
Minerva McGonagall sat in the headmaster/headmistress chair, leaning forward with her fingers interlocked on her desk.
"Sir, your experience with Dark magic will be ideal to influence Hogwarts students against it. This previous year our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher murdered our previous headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and fled immediately afterwards. We need someone to fill his post."
"I'll think about it, but this means I've gotta pick up my job in Japan and bring it here to England," said the teaching applicant.
"On no account are you to continue that job within the confines of this castle."
"All right, already. Just tell me who this brat is I gotta help stop Voldy-thingy."
"He is the only person to ever survive You-Know-Who's Killing Curse, and he was only a year old at the time. His name…is Harry Potter."
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE—PUT THAT INFERNAL STRIP OF WOOD OUT OF MY SIGHT THIS INSTANT!"
A portly man with a
bushy mustache bellowed at a scrawny, black-haired, green-eyed boy
who was brandishing a wand at the obstacle that was his
"What're you going to do, Vernon?" the boy sneered in anger as he dragged his trunk down the stairs. "I'm of age, now, so I can do any magic I want outside school. I could turn you into a pig if I wanted to, not that there's much of a difference."
Vernon Dursley began turning a fine shade of puce, yet he didn't dare attack a wizard, for that was what his nephew, Harry Potter, was.
Anger at Snivellus Snape and Draco Malfoy had worked its way out of him and onto the mirror in his wardrobe, the wood of his bedside table, and three panes in his window. If he wasn't careful it would soon work its way onto his uncle, aunt, and cousin.
A sudden pounding on the front door interrupted their row. Harry's aunt, Petunia Dursley, scurried forward to answer the door and invite in their unexpected visitor.
A young, handsome man with a furry creature of some sort on his shoulder stood framed in the doorway. He donned all black, and his dark purple hair hung close to his shoulders with a few strands down past his neck. His dark eyes accented his tan skin in the dying sunlight.
"Hey, are you guys the Dursleys?" the man asked.
"A friend of yours, Dudley?" Petunia inquired of his son.
"Yeah, right, like I would be caught dead with porky loser like that."
The accent and dialect with which he spoke was unfamiliar with the disputing family. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley glared at the stranger with suspicion.
"Who are you?" Vernon attempted to politely inquire him, but his annoyance stuck out very obviously.
"Don't tell me you tea-drinking stiffs haven't heard of me? Seen my police profile on the news?" the man asked them with annoyed disappointment. Unexpectedly, the guest closed his eyes and smiled, pressing his right pointer and middle fingers to his temple. Suddenly a swirl of black fumes surrounded the man. When they dissipated a young-looking teenager with wild, red hair and big, cute eyes stood in his place. The furry creature had not changed, but it was now smiling and grooming itself.
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. May I come in?" the boy asked with a cute, nervous smile, reaching behind his head to scratch it, closing his eyes.
Without waiting for an answer he strolled indoors, stroking the animal on his shoulder.
After a minutes silence, Uncle Vernon rounded on Harry once again.
"Enough effing w—"
"Vernon, the door's open," Petunia interrupted him.
"I'm sorry for the intrusion, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, but, uh, I think we arrived just in time," the boy apologized, glancing between aunt, uncle, son, and cousin. "Allow me to introduce ourselves."
"My name is Daisuke Niwa. The man you saw at the door was the Phantom Thief Dark. My clan's bloodline was born with a condition that is Dark. When the males born of our clan turn fourteen our DNA undergoes a change. We turn into the Phantom Thief. This change can only occur when we feel strong feelings for the one we love. If that person loves both of us in return then the changes will cease."
So he's basically similar to a wizard in a sense that he was born this way, Harry thought.
"DNA, ShmeeNA, you're still an abnormality, and I won't tolerate another under this roof," Uncle Vernon snarled.
The creature on Daisuke's shoulder began growling.
"It's okay, Wiz, he's not a threat."
"I won't take anymore effing emical swine in this household, either."
"Fine, we just came for a guy named Harry Potter. Is that you?" Daisuke inquired, turning to Harry.
"Yeah, but I'm telling you now I'm not going back to Hogwarts."
"Relax, we're not here to force you to do anything," Daisuke assured him. "Headmistress McGonagall has instructed us to assist in whatever plans you have."
"I don't need help, I have Ron and Hermione," Harry retorted, getting annoyed to a fine point.
"Daisuke laughed nervously. "Well, uh, just send me an owl if you need anything. I'll, uh, just be going now." The redhead backed away nervously and exited.
"HEY YOU LITTLE THIEF COME BACK WITH THAT STARRY NIGHT, THAT COST A FORTUNE!" Uncle Vernon bellowed after him following a short pause.
Harry found this diversion as an opportunity to escape.
Remember the stupid three D's, Harry thought, concentrating on the Burrow.
Harry was absent to experience Dudley and Aunt Petunia's screams of horror and Uncle Vernon waddling back to help, still furious at the theft of Van Gogh's expensive painting.
He was present, however, to hear Ron's grunt of pain and Hermione's almost-stifled yelp.
"Harry-when-did-you-pass-your-Apparition-Test-no-one-could-have-taken-you-to-the-Ministry-everyone's-tied-up!" Hermione whispered extremely fast.
"I didn't, but having an Apparition license doesn't really matter to me now," Harry replied coolly. "Besides, I'm kind of used to it now."
"'Used to it?' You're lucky you weren't splinched and that you're already seventeen!" Hermione argued.
"Bloody hell, Harry, you landed right on my stomach, that bloody hurt, you bloody--"
"Ron, what are you and Hermione doing up there?"
"Hide," Hermione whispered urgently, attempting to shove Harry under the bed.
"The trunk, Hermione, hide the trunk," Harry ordered in a murmur.
"Shrink it, Ron, it's Minivolius," Hermione coerced Ron.
Hastily muttering the spell, Ron shoved the miniaturized trunk in his pocket.
"Why couldn't you've done it?" Ron demanded right before Mrs. Weasley knocked on Ron's door and entered uninvited.
"You're making a racket up here, you two, and just because you're seeing each other is no excuse."
Harry abruptly attempted to sit up, but his head hit the wood railings.
"What was that, Ron?"
"Um, must have been your imagination, Mum," Ron attempted to cover up.
"Oh, no, I heard something under that bed, and I'm going to get rid of it."
"Mrs. Weasley, if I may, is it okay if we try to get rid of whatever's under there ourselves? If it's a Dark creature we could use the experience," Hermione all but implored.
Harry could see in his mind's eye Mrs. Weasley half-glaring, half-measuring with those constantly-mood-changing eyes.
"Oh, all right, I know how much of a magical creature activist you are, Hermione."
Footsteps crossed the wood floor and the click of a shutting door, along with footsteps descending the attic stairs told Harry he had managed to fly under Mrs. Weasley's radar. He inched out from under the bed and stared at his two best friends who were presently blushing and staring at the floor.
"Well, somehow you managed to leave that tiny detail out of your otherwise-lengthy letters."
"We didn't know how to tell you, Harry, otherwise we would have," Hermione defended, still keeping all her concentration on the floor.
"Honestly, mate, we thought you might go dynamite on us and explode."
A short silence followed Ron's timid confession.
Ron broke the pause by demanding, "Why couldn't you've shrunk it, anyway, Hermione?"
"Ron, you know I don't turn seventeen until late August, why are you even asking?" Hermione snapped.
Harry interrupted, "For boyfriend and girlfriend you still haven't kept your arguments to a minimum."
"Has he received your message, Professor Mousy?" Professor McGonagall inquired of Dark, now leaning against a pillar in Minerva's office.
"Yup, and I managed to collect a salary for my errand, Miss Minerva, ma'am," Dark replied coolly.
Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared, but she remembered that her requirement was to not steal in Hogwarts, so she kept quiet.
The office's doorknocker sounded, announcing a second visitor.
"Ah, that must be our second addition to staff. You may enter, Miss Hawkins," Professor McGonagall invited the newcomer.
In stepped the youngest-looking applicant to the Potions post Minerva had ever seen, not to mention the first female in years.
"You're an American Auror, are you not?" she inquired.
"Yes, I qualified last month, passing all my tests with flying colors. I applied for this post the next week. Be warned, there's a chance that I'll often be called away for an assignment in America at very irregular times," the woman warned.
"If I may, Professor, you didn't state your first name in your application. May I ask why? We teachers usually acknowledge each other by our first names.
"Exactly. I didn't give it. Only my family and very close friends know my first name, and I intend to keep it that way. You can just call me Hawkins."
The American's gaze wandered around the room at the various silver instruments the headmistress hadn't had the heart to dispose of. Her eyes came to a stop on Dark and began to glisten.
"And who might you be?"
"I can't believe it! My infamy is restricted to Japan! I gotta get around more often! Oh, well. My fine, fine lady, I am Dark, the infamous Phantom Thief from Japan," Dark replied, turning on the charm.
"Hmmm. I am torn between the consideration of divulging my first name to a thief such as you," Professor Hawkins commented, smiling flirtatiously.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, bringing back the attention of the two new teachers. "If I may, Dark and Hawkins, I request any infatuations between the two of you to be kept to a minimum."
"Fine, whatever," Dark snapped. Once again the black fumes enveloped his body, transforming him back into Daisuke.
"Professor McGonagall, will we be sleeping in a dormitory or the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's quarters?" Daisuke inquired.
"That is entirely up to you. However, I would suggest you remain in the teacher's quarters, seeing as experiencing you wandering off at your teaching times would alert other boys and girls in your dormitory."
Daisuke's brow suddenly became furrowed as he closed his eyes in frustration. Professor McGonagall was not concerned, for she knew such arguments with Dark in Daisuke's mind were frequent. Hawkins, however, had never seen such behavior in fourteen-year-old boys.
"Look, if that bothers you so much then just cool it, don't blow a fuse in here," she grumbled.
Minerva hid a slight smile under her hand and instead stared down at a scroll she had found in one of her desk drawers. Albus Dumbledore's loopy script was scribbled all over it in an explanation of how his successor was to handle Harry Potter's probable absence from Hogwarts in case of a dilemma or emergency.
"Don't lose heart, Minerva," said Professor Dumbledore's portrait from the wall. "Harry will have greater aid this year than I could ever have hoped for."
"For a boy of seventeen to actually search for Lord Vol…Vol…Voldemort isn't only a fool's cause, it is suicide," Minerva voiced, not even attempting to hide the concern she felt for the teenager's sake.
"My dear Minerva, I'm afraid the only comfort I can give you is that young Harry has seen his way through a magnanimity of grueling tasks that he should not have had to endure at an age such as this. Plus there will also be a trustworthy group of people aiding him, doubtless including Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, not to mention our young Mr. Dark and his tamer, Mr. Niwa."
"Someone call me?"
Daisuke had apparently arisen from his disagreement with Dark, for he was staring around the office attempting to discover who had said his name.
"Just as a reference, Mr. Niwa," Professor McGonagall assured him.
"Please, Professor, heh, um, just call me Daisuke."
"Likewise, you should address me as Minerva."
"Uh, o-okay, then Pro—I mean, Minerva," Daisuke stuttered. "We've decided to be sorted along with Riku, my girlfriend."
"So be it, Daisuke," Professor McGonagall agreed. "Now all we have to do is wait…wait for the September the first, which will bring with it the Hogwarts Express, loaded with a new, rejuvenated legacy of Hogwarts students."
"Admirable, suspenseful sentiments, Minerva. Actually makes me anxious to teach these teenagers," Hawkins commented.
I SWEAR, THERE WILL BE A SECOND CHAPTER SOON, SO DON'T KILL ME; IT'S A WORK IN PROGRESS! -- I bet you think I'm insane, now, but then, who wouldn't be, writing a fanfiction with both Harry Potter and DNAngel. Hee hee hee.