Don't you hate it when you spend half an hour revising a chapter, only to forget to save and accidentally upload the unrevised version? Yeah so do I.

I though having Sherlock as a teacher would be really interesting and was a little disappointed when all I could find was a one-shot. So, I decided I'd write something up myself. I hope you enjoy!

This takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban. So, unfortunately I'll be displacing Lupin. But maybe I'll be able to squeeze him in somewhere.

"Sherlock. There's an owl on the mantelpiece." I say as I pour myself a cup of tea. This may not be the oddest thing to have ever appeared there, but it's definitely in the top five. The impatient way it taps it's talons unnerves me. It's bound to leave a scratch in the wood and how the hell am I going to explain that to Mrs. Hudson.

"John, your skills of observation are improving at an astounding rate." He condescends never looking up from whatever he was doing at the back of the fireplace. I would question that, but Sherlock's antics are currently eclipsed by the rather grumpy owl on the mantelpiece. The owl continues it's tapping.

"The owl looks like it's waiting for something."

"If this goes on, I might have to find a new profession." Sherlock stands, counting out a few foreign looking coins and dropping them into the pouch on the bird's foot.

"Y-you're paying the owl." It nods it's head in a polite bow and flies out the open window. Sherlock picks up the small green envelope which the owl was previously standing on.

Wait. Did the owl bring that in? Did the owl just deliver a letter? What is he bribing owls to do his bidding now? Did his homeless network prove inefficient?

"Perhaps teaching would be a better career path, now that you've obviously surpassed me in every way." He opens the letter, making me sound stupid while ignoring what I'm saying simultaneously. He takes a moment to scan over the letter, before tossing it onto the table with an amused scoff and sweeping out of the room.

I sit back in my chair and take another sip of tea. Of course he won't tell me why there are owls delivering letters to us. Why should he? It's not as if it's anything out of the ordinary. And of course he'll only answer my questions as he pleases. Because his majesty can't be bothered to explain things to a mere mortal. It's not as if I've saved his life or anything.

"John, pack your bags. We'll be leaving Baker street tomorrow." He said as he sweeps back into the room fully dressed a few moments later. He stares at me as if he supposed to follow his every command without the slightest explanation. I shot him the 'I'm not moving from this spot until you explain, you arrogant dick.' look and he shot me the 'silly mortal and your need to understand but inability to think' look. Sherlock shoved a sheet of pape- parchment? under my nose. I read over it as he goes on talking, getting more confused by the second.

"The position was only offered to me, but I'm sure I can convince them to put you into muggle studies... Or divination. Maybe astronomy. Something irrelevant like that. Whatever happens, we'll have to get you fitted for wizards robes." Sherlock rambles on as he dons his trademark coat and scarf. "I have to get Mycroft to do a quick kidnapping. He won't meet with me unless he thinks it's his idea, the fat bastard. I'll be back in an hour"

I give up on trying to understand what he had said, or even whatever the hell the letter in my hand meant. Instead I shot a wordless shout of general confusion at Sherlock before he shut the door.

"Oh, I guess I must've forgotten to tell you." Sherlock said darkly from the doorway, his back turned to me. He whirled around and walked towards me with that infuriating strut that makes him look like he doesn't have feet. When he reaches me, he clears his throat to increase the dramatic tension. "I'm a wizard, John."

Mr. Sherlock Holmes,

Due to a series of unfortunate circumstances, we at Hogwarts are in desperate need of a defense against the dark arts professor. While there were many other more qualified candidates, all of them refused the job in fear of the jinx on the position. This, coupled with the recent news that convicted murderer Sirius Black is on the loose and likely after our ever-so-popular student Harry Potter, has reduced the list to two. While I am firmly against the idea of having one such as yourself within five miles of small children, the other option was a werewolf.

I understand that you have been cut off from the wizarding world for many years, so I have taken the liberty to jot down the unfortunate fate of our previous defense against the dark arts professors.

Professor Systole- Disappeared at the end of her first year. Was never seen again.

Professor Greening- Had a mental break and was let go after having claimed that he had become a tree.

Professor Quirrel- Was possessed by Voldemort to do his bidding and was left to die once he proved useless.

Professor Lockhart- Lost his memory during an incident with a basilisk and is a permanent resident at St. Mungo's.

We will be awaiting your reply by owl.

Severus
Snape

P.S. I want to make it perfectly clear that you were my LAST choice for this position.

Yes, I did make up Professor Systole and Greening. Just two professors going mad or dying just wasn't ominous enough.

I'm thinking of making Snape and Sherlock old friends from Hogwarts. Not actual friends but the sort of situation where Sherlock would act friendly so he could cheat off of him. Like Sherlock and Molly.

This chapter has been revised. Nothing major, just grammar checking.