The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

Hogwarts, The Room of Hidden Things

September 11th​, 1972

Stroking the piece of goblin silver, Ebon inspected the ornamental diadem. It was this object that had been subtly attempting to latch onto his mind. It'd been rebuffed rather easily, although it then lingered within his classroom -newly hired teacher of DAtDA as he was - waiting and lingering to manipulate events to have him removed from his position. Tracking the damned thing was a bitch and a half, folded within space a dozen times over, leading him to an odd painting with a dancing troll in a tutu of all things. He brute forced his way into some memetic illusory room, which attempted to read his mind, but was rebuffed; becoming nothing more than a blank stone room covered in runes. He eventually figured the place out and allowed it to 'read his desire', transporting him to what was in effect, Hogwarts' lost and found.

There he found this damnable artifact that had him spend half morning hunting for it, and as he inspected the annoying origin of the curse, he chuffed.

'What mad fool would place their very soul in such a poorly defended artifact.' Oh, sure, the thing tried to get him to put it on and likely possess him, but his mental defenses invalidated the thing. There wasn't any means of defense or alarm that such an attempt had been rebuffed, speaking of arrogance in whoever's soul this was mental abilities. He'd read some obscure books he'd found in dusty bookstores across the isles about the local mental abilities. He didn't learn them, as his very nature as an Eldritch abomination in the shape of a man protected him from such things, and if he wanted someone's secrets, all he needed to do was tell them to open up.

'Perhaps I should incorporate mental defense in the NEWTs curriculum?' His students were going to utterly hate him in that class, as he was structuring it to become a truly horrific and taxing meat-grinder. Not only did they need to study for NEWTs, but they'd be slimming up with a few potion recipes he'd found, then hitting physical exercise disguised while being chased by fake monsters; forced to sling spells while running, and generally preforming in a 'Wizarding Bootcamp' on a time-crunch for however-long the period was. They'd also be required to join the Physical Conditioning Club, Hogwarts' very own Physical Education course, minus the health and sex shit. For detention held with him, he was thinking of hosting his very own Sexual Education courses, mortifying as they are for teenagers, held and taught by his ever-loyal House Elf, Bixby.

'How many Clubs can a student join?' He wondered, planning on starting another Club to fit even more time into the NEWTs course; this one more practical dueling, sparing, and fighting conjured monsters.

Bringing his attention back to the diadem, he decided he'd bring it to Dumbledore. His boss would likely want to know what to do with the thing. 'Hmm, wisdom boosting enchantments, intelligence ones too. Fascinating, but worthless for my mind.' He'd try and replicate them on a Dunce Hat and throw them on the dumbasses in his classes and see what happened.

Exiting the spatial folds of Hogwarts, which just sounded wrong when phrased that way, he made his way down to the Great Hall. Students from the carriages were already being corralled to their House seats, friends forming cliques and factions on their tables, which was ever so interesting to see. The upper-years separated themselves from lower-years, with Ebon wondering how this place functioned with teenage pregnancy possibly being something of note in these halls. Magic likely helped that, but it was still a worry. Shrugging and deciding it wasn't his problem, he found Albus and Minerva as they insisted he call them sitting together watching over the students.

His arrival in his ever-sleek outfit of a vest over a fine dress shirt, tie, and black slacks that fed into sharp and shinny dress-shoes that were enchanted to be as comfortable as he could make them drew eyes. He was only twenty-one, but he'd artificially aged himself by forcing himself to show signs of the five-o-clock shadow, which made him look a bit more mature. Most seventh-years were only twenty-one, some being older than that depending on when one was born.

Diadem in hand, he found his seat next to Albus, clearing his throat to draw his two superiors' attention. Albus blinked, "Ah, Ebon, we didn't see you. Excited for the year?" He asked.

Ebon snorted, "Yes. I would be more excited, but my last-minute preparations were interrupted by that damned curse. I had to spend all mourning scouring Hogwarts's spatial partitions to find the source of the damned thing." He waved the cursed diadem, drawing wide eyes from both Albus and Minerva. "This diadem-circlet, it has a foul little soul of some wanna-be Necromancer sealed within that tried influencing my mind. It was so arrogant in its mental abilities that it didn't even have any actual point-defenses in case they failed!" He scoffed, offering over to the gobsmacked Dumbledore.

"Erm, oh." The man didn't know what to say as the legendary diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw was placed in his hands by a miffed professor. "Many thanks, Ebon." He muttered.

"Don't mention it." He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he gazed over the students. Many seemed to stare at him, but he gave them no attention, instead licking his teeth. It'd been months since he'd eaten something.

Albus mentioned he had to go, his phoenix arriving and taking him elsewhere, Minerva giving him a serious nod, and leaving as Wainwright alerted her that the First Years were arriving. She got up, leaving him with Wainwright Jakobs, the Professor of Muggle Studies, Willow Akot, the Professor of Arithmancy, Baylor Mercanti, the Professor of Runic Languages, Jackson Blame, the Professor of Care of Magical Creatures, Mimsy Borogoves, the Professor of Divination, Fillius Flitwick, the Professor of Charms, and Horace Slughorn, the Potion Master.

Natural conversation started between the professors, which naturally included Ebon.

"My, first day at Hogwarts and already causing a muss." Fillius remarked, the half-goblin Charms Professor grinning up at Ebon.

"I guess breaking the curse so fast is a bit impressive." Ebon admitted.

Fillius snorted, "The curse is nothing compared to finding the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw."

Understanding sparked in Ebon's mind, "Ah, so it was a historical artefact I found." He nodded, "Some foolish Necromancer must've been attracted to its legend."

Fillius frowned, "I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning."

Ebon raised an eyebrow, "A Necromancer bound a fragment of his soul to the Diadem. It tried to possess me, but it was rebuffed by my mental defenses. Foul magic, to harm one's soul; painful, I'd imagine."

Fillius' lips thinned, "Indeed," then he shook his head, "Let's move along from such dreadful topics. I've heard some fantastical rumors about you, a Mastery in Charms included!"

Ebon laughed, "I'm sure you have a far greater depth of mastery than I. In truth, if there was a Mastery of Arithmancy, then I'd only need one!" He chuckled, drawing the attention of one Willow Akot.

"I've been trying to get it recognized for my entire tenure here at Hogwarts." The elderly woman bitterly remarked, "Never happened."

Ebon frowned, "A shame. It's the foundation everything else is built off."

She snorted, "Indeed, but Masteries need to be flashy, or have magical effects." She scoffed, her eyes holding her disdain. "One of these days I'll stop kicking in my grave…" She muttered, fading out of conversation as she lost herself in her mind.

Fillius whispered up to him, "Williow is a bit…old." He said softly, "She's a hundred and ninety-three years old, and has been teaching at Hogwarts for fifty-three years. Twenty in 1799, before she retired, only to pick it back up after the first Great War."

"Dedicated." Ebon muttered.

"Couldn't say it better." Fillius nodded.

The doors to the Great Hall opened, letting in a deluge of fourteen-year-olds that were then shortly sorted. Ebon stayed quiet and allowed the events to play out. As the feast began, Ebon helped himself to a small meal to save his shrunken stomach from the chore of digestion, eating only a small plate. He and Fillius spoke about charms and their classes for the most part, but their conversation was soon broken up as Minerva tapped her spoon against her glass; the sound cutting through all the noise in the Great Hall. Without notice, Albus had snuck his way back to his position on the great table and was ready for the beginning of the year speech.

Albus stood, his robes of a more subtle hue than he was sued to, his elderly gaze casting itself over the assorted students as they paid attention to their Headmaster. "Very best of Evenings to you all." He started, quiet for a moment as the students quieted.

"First off, in celebratory, if poor news, we must bid our esteemed Professor Willow Akot good day. At the age of a hundred-and-ninety-three, she has deigned to retire after fifty-three years of service, after one last year. Please, give your applause." The Great Hall erupted in thankful applause, her students truly loving the woman as gasps and voices of concern rang out for the woman. Including one brown haired student that looked pained to see her go within the house of Slytherin.

"Next, let me introduce the newest member of our staff. Ebon Chaoskampf." Albus gestured his way to the table, and Ebon stood gracefully, smoothing his vest as he did so and gave a smile and wave to the crowd of students. "Professor Ebon is new to our nation, hailing from North America. He has taken up the position as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. It is also with great jubilation that we have successfully removed the Curse from the position, with hopes of Professor Chaoskampf becoming a longstanding member of our staff."

An uncertain and hesitant, but strong applause came from the crowd of students; scrutiny upon him, Ebon simply smiled.

"You will have noticed the altered book lists that have been requested to attend Defense Against the Dark Arts. If you have forgotten or do not have the funds to purchase those books, please speak to Professor Chaoskampf. It is also of my notice that he has a few words to say." Albus sat down, giving the stage to Ebon.

Ebon had stayed standing, knowing this was coming, and had his gaze roam the room for a moment. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, largely in due part to the Curse afflicting the position, has failed to hold a stable professor that could established a consistent curriculum for the class. In endeavors to better remedy this situation, the establishment of a new extracurricular club has been established. Supervised and led by myself, this Club is named Physical Conditioning. Attendance at this Club and graded performance within it is required for the DADA NEWTs. Others wishing to attend must be prepared for physical activity, with non-negotiable dress codes adhering to standards of decency, but with physical activity and the weather conditions kept in mind. If you are struggling to find clothing options, whether this be pants, shirts, undergarments, and or shoes, simply ask. Those not attending DADA NEWTs will not be graded, but lacking effort will result in your expulsion." He waited a moment for the raging whispers to die down.

"In conversation with Professor Flitwick, we have plans to establish a Dueling Club, shared bipartisan between us in supervision and support, with differing lessons taken dependent on who is supervising. If you are interested in this, showing your support by talking to like-minded individuals and bringing a petition to our attention will assist with the foundation of this club. If this Club is established, DADA NEWT students will be required to attend and show satisfactory results." Once more, whispers raged throughout the Great Hall.

"My classroom is open all hours of the day, twenty-four-seven, as by a nuance of a botched ritual; I no longer sleep." Without pause he rolled his eyes and stated, "No, I am not a vampire, or a magical creature. Thank you for your concern for my health." He stated dryly. "Of course, I do not encourage staying up or roaming the halls after curfew, but if you are for some reason up at such a time and in need of something for any reason; know my door is open." He let that sit for a moment, "Furthermore, for those Seventh Years looking for Apprenticeships under a Master for the following schools of Alchemy, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, or Charms; the opportunity is there, my time is much, but my patience is few and my requirements strict."

Everyone from fourth year and up snapped to utter attention at that utterly insane pedigree, and the offer to Apprentice while within Hogwarts, and possibly after while still being within the school. It was an utterly insane opportunity, with competitive lions, ambitious snakes, hardworking badgers, and studious ravens all hungering for such an opportunity.

"Any further questions will not be fielded during classes, and instead questions can be fielded after classes." He glared at the students, "Provided you are not late to others. Showing patience is a sign of maturity, and perhaps I would look kinder upon students who display such." Many swallowed, with the Professors by him shaking their heads with amusement. "That is all, Headmaster." Ebon bowed and sat down.

Albus chortled as he stood, "A most riveting speech by our newest staff member. It emboldens me to see the future generations filled with such fire." He roved his gaze throughout the houses, "Now, off to bed, pip-pip." He waved.

…