The weeks went by quickly. Harry heard back from Ron and Hermione many times. Bill fully recovered in a matter of days and was staying with at the Burrow while he looked for a new job. Harry told them about his conversation with the boa constrictor but refrained from mentioning his scar. It wouldn't help matters much to mention that he knew that something was going to happen the night that Bill was hurt.

There had been another attack on the Gringotts branch in Bulgaria. Two of its employees were killed. Another group of men wearing black robes and masks carried out the attack. Unfortunately, as they had in Egypt, the assailants Disapparated before they could be captured and interrogated. Very little had leaked to the press about the investigations into the attacks. What had leaked was that the attackers had managed to break into two of the vaults in the two banks. What they had taken from the vault was anyone's guess. Ministries everywhere were trying to reassure people that there was no cause for alarm, but the biggest worry every shared was that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was rising in power yet again, although many European Ministries of Magic denied any claim of that happening. However, the attacks were still very serious, and the ministries had agreed to increase security in Gringotts banks to protect their employees and the possessions and various wealth held inside the vaults. The new security measures seemed to be doing the trick; three weeks had passed after they were set up and not a single bank had been attacked in that time. After so much time without any action, the wizard world fell into a state of agitation. No matter how much the Ministries wanted to deny it, there seemed to be a heavy state of foreboding in the air, as if they were merely caught in the calm before the storm.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were some of the few people that knew for a fact that Voldemort was gaining power. All three wondered what was going to happen when the rest of their world found out.

After a tense summer, the day before they were due to leave on the Hogwarts Express arrived. Harry had arranged to meet Hermione and Ron in Diagon Alley that day. Uncle Vernon drove him to the street where the Leaky Cauldron was located.

His Uncle stepped out of the car and looked around. "Where is this place, anyway?" he asked. He was still sputtering over the knowledge that any establishment in London would deem to name itself 'The Leaky Cauldron.' He said that it was "too unordinary, and don't people on the street ever notice how strange it is?"

Harry had refrained from mentioning the anti-muggle spells then, but it looked like he'd have to mention them now. "It's protected," he said. "Mug-er, I mean, most people can't see it."

Uncle Vernon huffed, climbed back into the car, and drove off. Harry was left to drag his trunk across the street to the Leaky Cauldron's front door.

Once he stepped inside, the bartender, Tom, spotted him and hurried over. "Mr. Potter!" he said in greeting. "Why, I haven't see you in two whole years! Will you be needed a room?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, but only for tonight." He still had some wizard money stored in his trunk. He handed over enough money to pay for his lodgings. Tom helped him carry his trunk up to his room. Harry quickly changed into his school robes before hurrying back down the stairs and out the back door. He was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione at Flourish and Blotts. He would be late if he didn't hurry.

In the empty, closed off area behind the bar, Harry took out his wand and tapped the bricks above the trashcans. Immediately, the bricks making up the wall moved aside, revealing a very busy Diagon Alley.

He hurried through the crowds of witches and wizards that were walking back and forth between the stores lining the alley. He couldn't help notice that as he zigzagged around store fronts that a few men, dressed in dark robes, seemed to be stationed here and there. He noticed that the clips holding their cloaks in place were red in color and had the same shape. He wondered if these were Aurors.

He spotted Ron and Hermione immediately upon entering Flourish and Blotts. "Harry!" Hermione called happily as the two made their way over.

"Hallo," he said in greeting, just as happy to see them. "How's Bill?"

"He's okay. He moved out of the Burrow yesterday. The Egyptian branch has been restored and he's gone back to work there. Mum wasn't too happy about it, but both Bill and Dad thought that the extra security would be enough to keep him safe."

"So the Aurors have finished their investigation?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, they haven't. So far they haven't released any information.

"Everyone thinks that Death Eaters attacked anyway," Ron said. "That's why all the Aurors are guarding Diagon Alley. Everyone's afraid of an attack on the Gringotts bank here."

So those were Aurors. This line of thought distracted Harry when Hermione handed over a few books. He recognized them from the school list he held. "Thanks," he said, smiling at her.

"I heard that Professor (whoever-taught-Muggle-Studies-teacher - was his/her name ever mentioned in books?) quit," Ron said. "That's why we need to get all these new books. The new teacher added them to the book list. At least they're not too expensive."

"I wonder who the new teacher is," Hermione wondered.

"That would be me."

The three fifth-years turned towards the voice. A man dressed in muggle clothes stood there. He looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties, and had short, unruffled brown hair, chocolate-colored eyes, and a straight nose. He smiled at them. "I'm Professor Adam Pierson. I overheard some of your conversation; I hope you don't mind…"

"Oh, no, not at all," Hermione said with a slightly girlish smile. She stepped forward hastily and held out her hand. "I’m Hermione Granger."

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. It looked like Hermione had fallen for another teacher. Both remembered the last time that had happened, with Guildery Lockhart. They hoped Professor Pierson wouldn't turn out to be like him.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Granger. And you two might be?"

"Harry Potter, sir."

"Ron Weasley."

"The three of you will be attending Hogwarts?" They nodded. "What year?"

"It's our fifth year, Professor," Hermione answered. "Are you the new Muggle Studies teacher?" she asked with interest intermingled with a little disappointment. She'd dropped the class in their third year and was probably hoping that she'd signed up for it again.

"Yes, but I will also be teaching a new course, Defense Class. All students will be acquired to take it."

"Will that be like Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry asked.

Professor Pierson shook his head. "No. You will learn basic moves from fighting styles that Muggles use to defend themselves. In a way, it will be an extension of Muggle Studies."

"Harry! So glad you could make it," said a familiar voice. Harry turned to see Mr. Weasley approach. Mr. Weasley had spoken. Arthur Weasley smiled at Harry before turning his attention to Professor Pierson. "Hallo. I don't believe we've had the pleasure. I'm Arthur Weasley, and you are?"

"Professor Adam Pierson," he responded, and they shook hands.

"Will you be teaching at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I will. I'll be the Defense and Muggle Studies teacher."

"Muggle Studies, you say?" Mr. Weasley asked. His eyes lit with excitement; he absolutely loved everything about muggle life.

Harry exchanged a glanced with Ron and braced himself for the horde of questions that were soon to follow. Mr. Weasley opened his mouth, clearly ready to ask the first question of many, when he paused and frowned. "You look awfully familiar, although I don't think we've ever met before." His eyes widened. "Wait a minute - you look a lot like Benjamin Jamison. You're him, aren't you? No, of course you aren't; you're old enough to be his son. Are you his son?"

Professor Pierson's eyes seemed to widen in slight surprise before his face relaxed into a smile. "No, but I am related to him. I'm afraid we're rather distant cousins. Everyone's always mistaking me for him, but there you are."

Harry frowned. He didn't know why, but he somehow felt that the professor was lying. He glanced at the others, but none of them seemed to feel the same.

Mr. Weasley looked disappointed. "Well, the resemblance certainly is uncanny. Back to muggles, then. I don't suppose you can tell me how traffic lights work?"

"Dad, we'd better go," Ron said. "Mum, Ginny, Fred, and George will be wondering where we are."

"Oh. Right. Well, I wish you luck, Professor Pierson."

"Thank you."

Mr. Weasley led the way out the store while Harry and Ron had to tug Hermione out of the store. "I can't wait for Defense Class. It sounds like a good idea to know how to defend ourselves without our wands," she said a little louder than necessary, probably in the hopes of their new teacher overhearing them for a second time.

"You just want to ogle Professor Pierson," Ron said, sounding a little sulky about it.

Methos watched the three fifth-years leave the bookstore with an eyebrow raised. A smile tug at the corner of his lips. So those were the three that Dumbledore had written him about. Methos hadn't realized it when he'd butted into the conversation, of course; at the time, he figured he might as well say hi to a few students while he was in Diagon Alley.

He'd already been to Gringotts where he'd had several francs, euros, and American dollars converted into enough Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts to last him all year. He knew that he could have easily taken money out of one of his vaults in that very bank, but decided against it. If he intended to play the part of the only Muggle professor at Hogwarts, then he would act the part down to the very last detail.

Miss Granger's crush on him had been unexpected but not too much of a shock. It was too bad she wasn't a few years older; he wasn't in the habit of dating underage kids. Oh, all right, he was, but he had to do better than that if he was going to keep that job at Hogwarts for more than a week.

He strolled down Diagon Alley without any clear destination in mind. He passed by a Quidditch store where a group of young witches and wizards were huddled in front of a display of the latest broomstick model. It was something called a Phoenix 500. He'd heard that it was the latest competition for the Firebolt, one of "the best brooms in existence." The Firebolt had its own group of fans at the other shop window.

As he strolled on by them, the Buzz blossomed in his brain. He froze and turned completely around.

Diagon Alley was as crowded as it always got during the week before school, but there was no mistaking the identity of the other Immortal. She was a little taller than he was and had short, bleached hair. It was the first time he'd ever seen her in witch's robes.

She made her way over to him with a smile. "Amanda," he said in greeting.

"Adam!" she gave him a peck on the cheek. "I didn't know you knew about the wizard world."

"Same here. So what brings you to Diagon Alley?"

"Oh, a few odds and ends. With all these attacks on Gringotts vaults I thought I'd just make sure that my own possessions would not be harmed."

Knowing Amanda, her 'possessions' would probably be priceless artifacts that she didn't get honestly.

"I'm on my way to Mr. Olivander's now," she said. "I promised that the next time I'd stop by I'd give him a little blood."

"'A little blood?' Don't tell me that you're helping him make wands."

Amanda shrugged. "There's no harm in it, Adam."

Methos wasn't so sure. Blood could be used for a lot of things besides wands.

Amanda regarded the packages that Methos held in his arms. "I called Duncan yesterday."

"Did you now?"

"Yes. He said that you were going to teach at an English boarding school, but you wouldn’t tell him which one." She raised an eyebrow. "That school wouldn't happen to be Hogwarts, would it?"

"Actually, yes, it would. I'm going to teach Muggle Studies and Defense."

"Marvelous. Look, I have to go. I might see you at Hogwarts later if I come to visit Albus; he owes me a cup of tea."

With that, she was gone.

The Sorting Ceremony went smoothly. Harry glanced up and down the Gryffindor table. He chatted with Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom and others while his stomach rumbled. As he glanced around, he couldn’t help but noticing two of the new Gryffindor first years, a boy and a girl. They looked like they could have been twins; he knew that they were siblings. He thought that their names were Melanie and Blake Mincent-Darmian.

They were staring at him.

They held his gaze when he looked at them. Blake nodded at Harry in greeting. A second later, Melanie copied him. Only then did they turn away from him. Harry felt his brow furrow in confusion. What had that been about? he wondered. He studied the two for a moment. Melanie had soft blonde hair that extended almost ramrod straight down her back, while Blake's blonde hair was cut short on top of his head. Their eyes were their most startling features - Harry wasn't sure, but he could have sworn that they were red.

Professor Minerva McGonogall stood up at the Faculty Table. The movement broke through Harry's thoughts and he glanced up in time to see the professor tap her glass with her fork. The entire hall quieted. "Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

Albus Dumbledore stood up and smiled. "Welcome! It is a pleasure to see all of you. At the same time, it is regretful that some people that should have been here can not, I hope that this year will be year without any more unpleasant surprises."

Dumbledore paused. The students, and the faculty, whispered amongst themselves. Their faces were solemn. Harry, just like the rest of the people in that hall, thought of Cedric Diggory, the seventh year Hufflepuff Quidditch Seeker who was killed last spring, and felt a pang in his chest. Even after all this time, he still felt guilt over Cedric's death.

After a moment, Dumbledore continued. "I have a few start-of-term announcements I wish to make. First of all, the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden to all students. Secondly, may I introduce our newest faculty members. Professor Jared Mansfield will be filling in for Professor Hagrid in Care of Magical Creatures."

A man on Dumbledore's right stood up and waved, smiling as the hall applauded him. Harry had noticed that Hagrid was missing from his usual place on Professor Dumbledore's left. He wondered how long Professor Mansfield would be filling in for him.

Professor Mansfield sat down and Dumbledore motioned for Professor Pierson to stand. "Our other new faculty member is Professor Adam Pierson, who will be replacing Professor (whoever) in Muggle Studies. He will also be teaching a new class, Defense Class, which is a required course for all students."

Polite applause broke out for him as well. Harry didn't know why, but his gaze returned to the Mincent-Darmians. The eleven-year-olds were trading alarmed glances, which only increased Harry's curiosity. As if she felt his eyes on them, Melanie turned and met his gaze again. She smiled at him.

/How many times do I have to tell you,/ Blake projected to his twin sister Melanie as they left the Great Hall, /to stop staring at Harry Potter before you actually listen to me?/ One of the Gryffindor Prefects was leading the First Years to the Gryffindor dormitories. The two half-psychics were stuck in the middle of the group and found telepathic conversation to be desirable over spoken conversation when it came to what they were talking about.

Melanie, however, didn't answer. Blake knew that her mental shields weren't up and knew that she was ignoring him. /Fine,/ he growled, irritated at the fact that his sister was ignoring him and seemed to have fallen for the Boy Who Lived.

/Oh, cheer up, Blake./ Her mental voice was disgustingly cheerful. /We're the first Darmians ever to be in Hogwarts!/

Blake smiled and shrugged. /Yeah, but we're also not the first Mincents to be enrolled here./ Melanie just shrugged.

The Mincents had been a wizard family for three generations. The Darmians, however, were Muggles, making Melanie and Blake half-and-half. Their Muggle relatives were anything but normal, however. Darmians everywhere had red eyes, for one thing. They also had abilities that not even wizards possessed. Every Darmian could teleport, cast illusions, or speak mind-to-mind, like Melanie and Blake were currently doing. There were other powers that Darmians possessed individually; some would have Visions and others would have telekinesis. They had managed to keep these abilities secret for thousands of years.

Besides telepathy, illusions, and teleportation, Melanie and Blake both possessed a couple more powers. Blake had Visions and pyrokinesis, the ability to heat any substance with his mind. Melanie's extra powers were telekinesis and Locating. The Locator power gave her the ability to find anyone's mind in a heart beat, or would if she weren't on the Hogwarts grounds. The wards and spells protecting Hogwarts prevented either of them from teleporting off of the grounds or communicating telepathically with, or Locating, anyone not on the Hogwarts grounds.

The group reached the common room, and the sixth-year Prefect was now telling them the house rules. Melanie groaned inwardly. /This place has so many rules for first-years. Blake, how are we supposed to talk to anyone about your Vision?/

Blake pondered this for a moment. /We'll use illusions to get to places after curfew, but we shouldn't need that to talk to Harry Potter./

/So you think we should talk to him? /Melanie asked, relieved.

/Yes./

/What about the Professor? There's something off about him./

/Yeah, I noticed it too. We'll have to figure it out later./

Harry, Hermione, and Ron had History of Magic on the first day of school, was immediately followed lunch. Professor Binns, their only teacher who happened to be a ghost, droned on about facts as usual as if he, too, found them as interesting as watching paint dry. Harry felt himself fall into the usual state of half-consciousness that Professor Binns' droning voice always caused. Many students had to shake themselves awake as they left the classroom and headed for Defense Class.

"I hope whatever we do in Defense Class will be enough to wake me up," Ron said.

Defense Class was located on the top floor of the South Tower, and they would take it with the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin fifth-years. When they entered the classroom, Harry glanced around in interest. He'd never been in that room before. Four tall, thin stained glass windows in house colors lined one wall. Although light filtered through them, the torches set in metal brackets high in the walls on either side provided the real illumination. Tapestries, hung between each torch, depicted scenes of witches and wizards locked in combat. Some used wands, some used swords of all shapes and sizes, and others used their bare hands. On the fourth wall was a huge array of weapons, containing everything from battle-axes to crossbows to swords.

There was no sign of Professor Pierson. The Slytherins had barely arrived when he stepped into the room. Professor Pierson had changed out of the wizard robes he'd worn to breakfast and into jeans and a muscle shirt. "Good afternoon," he said. "Welcome to Defense Class. Will everyone please form a circle."

There was some shuffling as one hundred and forty-two students formed a long oval extending from the wall with the swords to the wall with the windows.

Professor Pierson's voice echoed throughout the large room. "Over the course of the term, I hope to teach all of you how to defend yourselves without magic. Your wands will not be needed in this class. They must stay out of sight or I will confiscate them until the end of class."

There was murmur of surprise amongst the fifth-years, but no one spoke up.

"Okay, then. Today we will begin discussing the names and uses of the weapons hanging on the wall. We will start with this sword." He walked around the oval, giving each student a clear view of the sword. A single sparkling emerald was set into the end of the hilt. The rest of the hilt was wrapped in light brown leather. The blade itself looked to be at least three feet in length. Both sides looked to be extremely sharp.

"This is an Ivanhoe," Professor Pierson said.

"An Ivanhoe?" Draco Malfoy scoffed from the Slytherin part of the oval. "What kind of sword is that?" He said it just loud enough that it carried over to Harry's ears. He glanced at Ron and Hermione. Ron was glaring at Malfoy while Hermione looked worriedly in Professor Pierson's direction. The professor gave no indication that he'd heard Malfoy's comment.

Harry glared at him as well. He remembered hearing about the Death Eater attacks. He knew that Draco's father had taken part in those attacks and hated him for it. Harry remembered how Draco had insulted Cedric Diggory's memory last year. He wondered why Dumbledore even let him enroll again this year. Dumbledore knew as well as Harry did that Lucius Malfoy was still a Death Eater.

"I've got a rapier at home myself," Draco said, raising his wife. "It's a family heirloom. It's make of stronger stuff than that puny thing."

Professor Pierson turned around and regarded Draco with narrowed eyes. Gone was the friendly expression he'd been adopting in the class so far. Malfoy seemed to become paler than ever before.

A thin, predatory smile crept onto the professor's face. "And your name would be…?"

"Draco Malfoy," Draco answered.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you kindly get that block of wood in the corner? Thank you."

Malfoy looked nervous as he detached himself from the oval and brought the block of wood over to Professor Pierson. He instructed Malfoy to set it on the ground before telling the teenager to step away several feet to his left.

"This sword," Professor Pierson said, addressing the class, "is my own personal weapon. It is sharp enough to cut through most solid objects with one blow."

He gazed steadily at Malfoy while he said this last part. Malfoy seemed to pale even more. Harry found he couldn't really blame him; the professor's expression was not a pleasant one.

"Let me demonstrate." Professor Pierson raised the blame high above his head and brought it swinging down. Everyone gasped as the blade cut through the thick block of wood with only one swipe.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Pierson said in a dismissive tone. Malfoy hurriedly rejoined the Slytherins. "I hope to teach all of you how to use a blade. Now, many of the weapons hung in this room, which are the weapons we will be using, are very blunt and are unlikely to cause any serious harm to any of you. Even so, we will be taking all safety measures to avoid unnecessary injuries."

"However, we will not be using weapons of any kind until next semester. This semester, we will be focusing on hand-to-hand combat. We will be focusing mainly on defensive moves, but you will learn some offensive moves as well. I am pointing out the weapons today to emphasize a very important point: none of you are to touch any of these weapons unless I give my permission. Although they are blunt, there is the likelihood that one of them will be sharp enough to cause serious injuries. Also, this Ivanhoe is my personal sword. If I find anyone playing with it, fifty points will be taken from that student's house and he or she will be given a detention. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," everyone murmured. At least, everyone but Malfoy, who still looked pretty spooked.

The professor somehow could tell that Malfoy hadn't spoken. The professor directed another narrowed, dangerous look at him. "Is that understood, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, sir."