Bertie was nervous, sitting across from the Headmistress in her office.

It had been years since he had spoken to the famous Minerva McGonagall. He remembered her dearly as his transfigurations professor at Hogwarts, and now he was in for an interview about that very same position. He was young, and he worried that his age would be used against him. But then again, many professors these days were younger. It was rumored that all the positions at Hogwarts were cursed, despite the fact that the DADA position’s curse was supposedly eradicated the day Voldemort was.

As much as he loved being an auror, it was wearing on him. It was difficult to be positive when so many cases went unsolved, when dark wizards and criminals escaped so easily. When so many people died and got hurt. Bertie was feeling, simply put, burned out. He loved doing good for his community, but it was time for a change.  He could help his community in a good way—by educating young minds.

If he didn’t get the job? Then Bertie would take it as a sign from whatever higher power there was that he needed to continue his work as an auror.

The headmistress sat delicately upon the ancient high-backed chair within the office, eyes peering over her spectacles to appraise the man sat before her. The desk separating the two was cluttered with parcels, pamphlets, and parchment. Qualifications of various witches and wizards were interspersed with complaints from parents and somewhere near the corner hid a tin of biscuits.

Minerva had been loathe to even offer the man before her an interview. Aurors, on a whole, were made of too stern of stuff to make adequate teachers... Though people often had a way of defying all prejudices, and Minerva had a feeling this was one of those times. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr. Hughes," said she, removing her glasses and setting them gently on the desk.

"Care for a biscuit?" She asked as she scrambled through a pile of parchment for Adelebert's credentials. "Ah, here we are. So, why give up the dashing life of an auror for a boring old job here at Hogwarts?"

He shifted and sat up straight, trying to keep from slouching or hunching over, which he was used to doing when sitting alone or hovering over a case file. She welcomed him, and he suddenly felt like he was in his first year—showing up to his first class with her, completely scared and vulnerable like many students were on their first day.

“Thank you.” Bertie bowed his head politely, “It’s been a long time.” And it had. He hadn’t seen the headmistress since he graduated and went straight into auror training. He shook his head,  he was too nervous to eat a biscuit right about now.

And here was the first question. Why did he want to leave the auror forces?

“It’s… Fine. Being an auror is fine. I like it well enough, but I don’t feel like it’s my calling.” Adelebert said earnestly, “I love doing good for the community as a whole, but seeing so many people get hurt and die wears down on you after awhile.”  He cleared his throat,”And it’s—I… What better way to help the community than by starting young. You know? Educating people, helping them learn and grow, before they become jaded adults.” Or criminals. “It’s just.. I feel like it suits me.”

Minerva smiled wearily as the man before her started to speak. First he spurned her hospitality by refusing her food, and then he stumbled over the question as if he’d never sat an interview – which, Minerva noted, he probably hadn’t.  At least, she assumed, not any that weren’t forced at wandpoint of which he was the interviewer and his interviewee had little choice in the matter.

Truthfully, this wasn’t even her worst interview by far. Not two days previous she had a witch excuse herself from the interview to use her personal privy to vomit, and before that a man continued to question her expertise in the field, which was always a bad move. She paused, looking over the parchment before her and nodded her head thoughtfully at the man across from her.

She grabbed a spare bit of parchment from her desk and grabbed a quill, scribbling a couple notes upon its surface. “And, as I’m sure you’re well aware, you’d be the third instructor in transfiguration in this term alone, not to mention the years previous. How would you fill the gaps in education that have inevitably been caused by such a turntable of instructors? Particularly in the case of our OWL and NEWT students, how do you believe you’d manage to ensure the students were ready to take on, and pass, such prestigious exams?”

“Well—I would honestly start with something that the students should know how to do at their level, just to see where everybody is at.” Adelebert replied. “After that, it’s identifying who is having a difficult time, and who isn’t. Some students can handle the gaps perfectly well and are quick learners. Others need some more guidance and support. I suppose I’d just change my teaching method in whichever way suits each individual student in one-on-one settings.” He took a deep breath. The more he spoke, the less nervous he got.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t doing very well. Bertie wasn’t always the most confident of people, and feeling scrutinized and judged by someone who once was (and would be if he got this job) an authority figure was not exactly relaxing.

“I’d offer tutoring sessions too—if students are struggling. It’ll help them catch up, if they are behind in their studies. My method of teaching will be much more hands on-- yes, they should still learn from their textbooks... But you can't just learn how to transfigure objects by reading. You need to practice, and put the words in the text into action.”

Minerva nodded thoughtfully at the interviewee and scribbled a few notes on her parchment. It was, in Minerva’s opinion, a solid and well thought answer. As the interview progressed, it was obvious that Adelebert had simply been nervous, but his philosophy on teaching was sound. “And one last question before we begin the practical portion of the interview; discipline at Hogwarts is a part of everyday life. Students are constantly pushing boundaries, breaking rules, wreaking havoc on the castle, hexing each other… how do you find you’ll deal with such behaviors, with the knowledge that use of magic against students as punishment is strictly forbidden?”

”A horrid rule, I’d say,” A portrait of heads past muttered, “Back in my day, we hexed students left and right for breaking the rules,”

“That’s quite enough,” Minerva replied in a firm voice, shooting the portrait a look full of acid before returning her gaze to Adelebert. The headmistress of Hogwarts placed her quill back in the inkpot and replaced it with her wand, which she pointed directly toward the fire roaring in the grate. A kettle floated into the flames and filled itself with hot water. No reason not to enjoy a cup of tea while Mr. Hughes was being questioned.