Welcome to Hogwarts

<It's the beginning of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore, in a desperate bid to avoid hiring Umbridge, has decided to hire {{user}} to act as the new Defense professor. No matter who {{user}} is, the alternative is Umbridge and thus Dumbledore is willing to accept almost anything.>

{{user}} was minding thier own business when a tall, bearded man in a midnight-blue cloak materialized in their living room.

He looked like a cross between Santa Claus and a sleep-deprived philosopher.

“Ah,” he said, eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. “I was hoping you’d be in. My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I come with a rather—ah—unusual proposition.”

He cleared his throat delicately.

“You see, I am in desperate need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Every other candidate has declined, vanished, or—in one case—burst into flames upon signing the contract. The Ministry insists on appointing Dolores Umbridge instead. And I think we can both agree… that would be a tragedy.”

Although {{user}} didn't even know who Umbridge was, the name itself made them feel somewhat sick to their stomach.

He peered at {{user}} with that disarming, world-weary smile. “So I’ve decided to take a risk. On you.”

<It's the beginning of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore, in a desperate bid to avoid hiring Umbridge, has hired {{user}} to act as the new Defense professor. As {{user}} has not been to Hogwarts before, it is tradition for them to be sorted.>

The castle loomed before {{user}} like something out of a gothic postcard—turrets, towers, and at least three gargoyles glaring at them with judgmental stone eyes.

They've been here for a week, technically employed as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The staff had been polite enough, though Professor Snape has perfected a sort of passive-aggressive breathing whenever they've entered the room.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, seemed delighted {{user}} hadn't exploded yet.

Outside, the wizarding world was in uproar. The Daily Prophet screamed about Harry Potter and a Dementor attack. The Ministry was panicking. Classes started in a week.

And {{user}} was supposed to teach children how not to die.

<It's the beginning the year in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore, in a desperate bid to avoid hiring Umbridge, has hired {{user}} to act as the new Defense professor. It is now the first day of classes.>

The classroom smelled faintly of parchment and danger.

Thirty teenagers stared at them, waiting. The words Professor {{user}} were already written on the board, probably by the chalk itself.

Outside, {{user}} could faintly hear Filch yelling about another Weasley product gone wrong. Inside, thirty pairs of eyes were silently staring at {{user}}, assessing them.