|
|
Post by johndawlish on Feb 6, 2012 12:16:35 GMT
  WHAT'S THE STORY
MORNING GLORY- - - - - - - -Today was the big day - the one that John had been waiting for since he left school and became an Auror. He was finally going to find out if his application to become the 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' Professor was successful. Packed with the bare minimum, John dressed in his light blue dress shirt and pressed black pants, trying to look smart but not too over the top. He had met Albus Dumbledore before, on many occasions, but today was something different. Trying to prep himself up for the occasion, John looked at himself in the mirror, his flat in London seeming emptier than usual as his reflection frowned back at him. Ah well, it could only get better from here. With a flick of his wand, his trunk of clothes shrank to the size of his coat pocket, and John was out the door to embark on his new adventure. - - - He stuck his head out of the train window as the Hogwarts Express chuffed along the railway line, getting closer to it's destination of Hogsmeade. He was so close now, but all John could do was hope that he had finally attained one of his dreams. The train finally pulled up and John was soon onto one of the carriages. Being an Auror for the last eight years meant that John had seen his fair share of death, and so, the mystery of the horseless carriages were no longer such a puzzle to him. As the carriage started to move, John looked over the creature in front of him, admiring it's many distorted features. The carriage finally pulled to a stop out the front steps of Hogwarts, and after taking a deep breath, John pushed open the front doors, where Albus Dumbledore was waiting for him in the Entrance Hall. "Albus," John smiled, his deep voice booming off the walls. "It is good to see you again." He held out his hand for Dumbledore to shake.
[/font] |
|
|
|
Post by rogerdavis on Feb 7, 2012 1:57:25 GMT
Albus sat in his office and sighed. After the unfortunate mental breakdown of Aldon Tanner at the end of last year, he was once more faced with the problem of finding a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Not only that, but it was two weeks into the year and he had yet to find one. Thus far, he and Filius had been sharing the load, but that was hardly a long-term solution. Already they were both starting to fall behind on their other duties, and the term had barely started. Looking down at the array of applications before him, Albus sorted through them, pushing to one side the usual set of candidates; charlatans, amateurs and liars the lot of them. He remembered most of their DaDA grades, which had been far lower than the OWLs and NEWTs listed on their applications. He was left with barely a handful of candidates; an older man who had studied the theory intensely but seemed quite lacking in practical application, his old friend Alastor Moody who might take the job if asked but was desperately needed elsewhere, and young John Dawlish, recently made an Auror. Making up his mind, Albus gathered up all the applications but Dawlish’s and shelved them in his DaDA archive before writing a response. Handing it to Fawkes, he watched with a small smile as the phoenix disappeared in a burst of flames with the letter, en route to John Dawlish’s house. - - - Waiting in the Entrance Hall in his best velvet smoking jacket, Albus considered his options for convincing Dawlish to take the job. Despite the fact that the man was interested, it was only fair to inform him of the Curse, and suitable candidates had changed their minds before upon being told of the temporal and dangerous nature of the job. He was shaken out of his thoughts as Dawlish stepped through the front door, and he took the man’s hand with a warm smile. ”John Dawlish. It seems only yesterday that you were a skinny little boy being Sorted into Ravenclaw. But forgive me, enough of embarrassing you with such reminiscences. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here and why you want this job?” He gave a rueful smile, ”I know, that was the point of the application, but humour me.”
[/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by johndawlish on Feb 7, 2012 2:35:51 GMT
WHAT'S THE STORY
MORNING GLORY- - - - - - - - John smiled widely as Albus remembered back to John's first days at Hogwarts, almost like they were yesterday. But, for the great man standing in front of him, the time that had passed would have been almost insignificant. "Yes, although the hat did take a while to decide where to put me!" He chuckled, remembering fondly. The hat, once placed upon John's head all those years ago, had a very difficult time choosing between the houses of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, as John showed strong qualities of each house and, according to the hat, would have done very well in each. His courage and bravery nearly earned him a place in Gryffindor, but his discipline and studious ways eventually placed him in Ravenclaw; a decision that John was ultimately happy with.
Typical Albus Dumbledore. John shook his head, letting his curly fringe fall out of his eyes. "Why I would like the job?" he mused out loud, holding his hands behind his back as he and Albus walked towards the Dungeons - towards where the Headmaster's office was. "There are many reasons, Albus," John said, putting on his professional face as he spoke diplomatically. "For one, if you remember correctly, I topped Defence Against the Dark Arts in my seventh year, earning an 'Outstanding' N.E.W.T," he started, thinking hard about how to phrase his answer. "And I suppose I want to give back to the school that gave so much to me." He turned to look at Dumbledore as the two of them paused outside the front of the great man's office.
"But, Albus," John started in his deep voice. "I've heard rumours that the job is cursed." It was a mix between a statement and a question, but concern lined the smile lines around his eyes. John knew that Albus would have mentioned it anyway, but perhaps the two of them would talk about it once they made their way into his office. "I want you to know that no matter the curse, I see myself carrying out the job right until the very end."
[/justify][/font] |
|
|
|
Post by rogerdavis on Feb 7, 2012 3:41:15 GMT
Albus did remember how long John’s Sorting took; the skinny boy who had grown into the tall and imposing man before him had sat there for at least five minutes while the Sorting Hat deliberated where to put him. But in the end, Dumbledore thought the Hat had made the right decision. Dawlish had done well in Ravenclaw, very well indeed, which reminded him that Flitwick would probably want to catch up with the man before him sometime soon.
”I do remember your Defence Against the Dark Arts results, John, and how very proud Professor Flitwick and your family were. You should go visit Filius while you’re here, by the way. He’d like to catch up, especially if the two of you are to be colleagues.” He smiled to hear the next part, always glad when students felt that they’d gotten something out of school, but it quickly turned to a frown as he heard John voice his suspicions.
Stepping inside his office and gesturing the younger man inside, Albus let out a deep sigh, suddenly feeling every one of his near hundred years of age.
”I knew this would have to come up, but I hoped we could have kept this conversation confined to brighter and happier things for a while longer.” Dumbledore offered John a chair and gestured questioningly towards a bottle of Firewhiskey. ”Yes,” He said, turning to look back at Dawlish, ”There is a curse. Or at the very least, no one has yet lasted more than a year and proved that there is no curse.”
As he heard John’s next statement, Albus smiled, feeling prouder of his former student than he could ever have imagined. ”Your nobility and commitment are very welcome, John, but I would prefer not to have your death or worse on my hands. I have a theory – only a theory, mind – that if the teaching contract specifically sets a one year duration, then the curse should be averted.” Albus poured himself a firewhiskey, ”It’s not a guarantee by any means, but it may help, and if you’re not willing to take the job after hearing this, I fully understand.”
[/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by johndawlish on Feb 8, 2012 0:25:00 GMT
WHAT'S THE STORY
MORNING GLORY- - - - - - - -
John smiled widely. Old Filius Flitwick - it was heart-warming to know that John had not been forgotten during his absence from Hogwarts. He had missed seeing Flitwick greatly, as the two of them had spent many hours after class talking about duelling, charms and even at times, the Order of the Phoenix.
Was John hearing Dumbledore right? 'If he and Flitwick were to be colleagues?' Did this mean that he had, in fact, scored the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor? John's eyes lit up like wildfire, a burning curiosity to ask after his newfound home. But, with all the restraint he could muster, John remained silent. Dumbledore would tell him of the outcome of his application soon enough - he merely had to wait for it.
As the two friends walked up towards Dumbledore's desk, the topic of the curse had come full circle. John's suspicions had been addressed, and were in fact true. John nodded as Dumbledore offered him some Firewhisky, "Thank you, yes."
He sat in silence, musing over what this could mean for him. As Albus spoke, John concluded that a one year contract would suit him fine. "Albus," he started, clearing his voice. "This news of the curse is indeed disturbing, but by any means, I would be happy to accept the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor." He smiled up at his new headmaster, like a child looking in the window of a candy store. "So if your theory is right," he started, thanking Albus once again as he was passed a glass of firewhisky. "A one year contract would work best."
He thought back to the horror stories of other Professors leaving after their one year of service; some fully in tact, but others were carried away in matchboxes. "When would you have me start, Albus?" he asked, his eyes as bright as lights.
[/justify][/size][/font] |
|
|
|
Post by rogerdavis on Feb 11, 2012 5:17:48 GMT
Taking a sip of his Firewhiskey and letting the fiery liquid burn its way down his throat, Albus nodded. ”If my theory is correct John,” He said, taking a seat behind his desk and Conjuring a cushioned armchair for his new professor, ”And I have good reason to believe it is, then as you say, a one year contract should ensure that you are not ousted by death or disfigurement, and hopefully prevent any other adverse circumstances.”
Summoning a copy of the standard staff contract complete with waiver that he was nowadays forced to use for Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers from the other side of the room, Dumbledore picked up the Muggle ink pen he kept on his desk and started to amend the form in bright purple ink; filling in all sections required of the employer and setting the contract duration for one year only with no chance to renew.
Signing his name at the bottom with a grand flourish, Albus waved the paper around until it dried before handing it over to John and offering him the pen. ”When would I have you start, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, raising a questioning eyebrow, ”Well, today being Saturday, I think it possible that I might be able to find you the curriculums written by the last few Professors in your role and you might then be able to begin composing your own and you might possibly be able to begin teaching on Monday, but that’s all speculation really.”
Eyes gleaming with mischief, Dumbledore surveyed John from over the top of his half-moon glasses, doing his best to smother a smile. Trying to look as innocent as possible, Albus asked; ”When would you like to start?”, before gazing expectantly across the table, straightfaced as possible, waiting for both a (hopefully humorous) reaction and an answer. He remembered John Dawlish as being a rather good-natured boy with a fine sense of humour, but that kind of thing did not necessarily improve with age.
[/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by johndawlish on Feb 14, 2012 9:07:54 GMT
WHAT'S THE STORY
MORNING GLORY- - - - - - - - John had to laugh. If Albus' theory was correct? If there was one thing John was sure of, it was Albus Dumbledore and his uncanny ability to always predict the future. John sat on the conjured cushion with a smile on his face. "Albus, I believe that a one year contract will suit me just fine." He could hardly believe his luck - he was now a working Professor at Hogwarts! His parents would be so proud.
As John took a long, drawn out sip from his firewhisky, he peered over the staff contract that had been placed in front of him. He frowned as he read - not because he was unhappy, but it was a natural contortion for his face to make as he concentrated. He picked up the pen that Albus had offered and signed his name - small, scrawled writing - at the bottom of the page. Done and dusted, he was now officially a Professor.
"Monday sounds wonderful, Albus." John said in his deep voice, smiling like a kid at Christmas. "Curriculums would be much appreciated, but if needs be, I can write my own. I've had many years on the workforce as an Auror - I'm not as accomplished as Moody, but I could still probably teach a seminar and hold my own."
"I hope I'm teaching the first years though," John said with a cough as the last of the firewhisky was drained from his glass. "I'd like to be able to show off on my first day somewhat."
The only things left to do now were to find the Curriculums and settle down into his new office - and, living quarters. John made a mental note to see Flitwick later, and introduce himself to the other members of staff. He longed to see Horace Slughorn again; John always loved being apart of the Slug Club.
[/justify] [ ooc: sorry it's so bad. muse = bleh. ][/size][/font] |
|
|
|
Post by rogerdavis on Feb 24, 2012 1:59:35 GMT
Albus smiled as he watched John sign the contract. The sheer enthusiasm John had for this job was enlivening, and it was his attitude more than anything else which had convinced Albus that he had made exactly the right choice.
”Then Monday it will be.” Albus raised his glass in a toast, ”To your new job!” Draining the Firewhiskey in a single gulp, he chuckled softly. ”No need to be so modest, my boy. From what I’ve heard from Alastor, you are a more than accomplished Auror and I have every confidence that you will excel.”
With a wave of his wand, Albus Summoned the pile of curriculums he kept in his bookcase and pushed the six-inch high pile across the table for John to inspect, before pulling out the class schedule. Peering through his glasses at the timetable and poking it with his wand to get it to display the First Years, Albus squinted at the too-small text.
”Looks like you’ll be getting your wish and then some, John. Both of the First Year doubles are on a Monday before lunch, so you’ll get your chance to make an impression.”
Getting up from behind his desk and coming around to stand beside John, Albus smiled, proud at how the studious little First Year he remembered had grown up and offered John his hand.
”Good luck John. I have every confidence that you will do incredibly well.”
[ooc – shall we start to wrap things up, d’you think?] |
|
|
|
Post by johndawlish on Feb 24, 2012 6:29:41 GMT
WHAT'S THE STORY
MORNING GLORY- - - - - - - -
As John's glass chinked with the side of Albus', John couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. Overwhelmed, disorganised, optimistic.. But it was all going to be for a good cause. As he took the last sip of the burning hot liquid, John made a mental note to see Flitwick later and catch up. He was so looking forward to seeing his old friend.
John smiled, humbled at Albus' kind words. Unable to think of anything to say, he watched as a stack of papers hovered towards him - no doubtedly the curriculums that Albus had been talking about. John leaned over to inspect them, confirming his theory, and with a wave of his wand he shrunk the notes to lie flat in his breifcase. He would look over them later tonight once he had the chance.
"Thank you, Albus,"
[/color] John said as he rose out of his chair, shaking the hand of the accomplished wizard in front of him. "I'm sure I'll be see you again soon."[/color] With a small thanks and another goodbye, John left Albus' office with a map in hand, ready to find the office he would now be calling home.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify] [ ooc: sounds good. I'll move it to the archives! ][/size][/font] |
|
