Teaching Postion

Teaching Position
An Anita Blake/Harry Potter cross-over
By: calikocat
Word Count: 1,161 (not counting all this drivel up top)

Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton is the creator of Anita Blake, and JK Rowling is the creator of Harry Potter. I’m only borrowing the characters for a bit…don’t worry, they won’t be too traumatized when I let them go. ^^

Author’s Notes: I was washing my face when I was struck with an idea so outrageous that I nearly snorted water up my nose. Anita Blake, Headmistress of Hogwarts. Yeah, I can’t really see it happening but it was just so funny at the time. Instead I came up with this snapshot of McGonagall coming to Anita about a teaching position. Enjoy.

XXX

God was laughing at me. He didn’t hate me, but he sure got a kick out of tormenting me. That was the only reason this could be happening. My mind couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation, so my humor decided to raise its twisted and senile head. God was laughing at me, rolling on the clouds and choking on his damned giggles. I flipped off the heavens mentally and gave the elderly woman, no witch, my attention once more.

“You want to run that by me again? Without changing into a house cat this time; Bert doesn’t like animal hair getting all over the office. He goes ballistic when my Leopards and Wolves drop by.” There I went again, throwing my sarcasm at want-to-be clients. Bert was going to kill me; this woman had paid the initial fee to talk to me.

The old woman glared at me, not that I could blame her, with tired eyes. “Really Ms. Blake, I was only adding some proof to my story, you needn’t be rude. I know you didn’t grow up around my kind of magic, but it does exist. Do I need to transfigure your desk into a pig? Perhaps I should levitate that lovely rug by the window?”

Now who was being snippy? Any more proof like that and I was going to go for my gun. “No, I don’t need another demonstration.” I sat back in my chair a little, looking at her odd robes and the pointed hat she wore. With her narrow and aged face she looked like a stern Mother Goose, and I barely kept the smirk off my face.

“Will you at least think about it Ms. Blake? The position at our school needs to be filled, and over all the profiles I’ve gone over, you would do well as an instructor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

I reached up to rub my eyes, hoping to head off the headache I knew was coming. “Ms. McGonagall, I can’t stay away from St. Louis for almost an entire year; too many people depend on me.”

“It’s not as if the city will fall apart is it?” Her tone of voice made me want to snarl.

“Actually, that just might happen…tell me what you now about me, I’ll fill in the gaps, maybe you’ll understand then.”

She took a breath. “You are a United States Federal Marshal due to being a Vampire Executioner. Your magic is purely that of a Necromancer, and while it is seen as evil it would be a great asset to us. As an instructor you would have much to teach, having survived as you have. You are up to date with things concerning all types of preternatural creatures—Stop looking at me like that Ms. Blake, I know you are a human servant to this City’s Master, but HogWarts is a Neutral territory. While you are there you wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes.”

I held my hand up. “It’s not just that Ms. McGonagall. I’m Nimir-ra to the local Wereleopard Pard, Lupa and Bolverk to the Werewolf Pack, and part of two triumvirates. One is with the Master and the Ulfric; the other with one of my Leopards and my Vampire. Not to mention I’m a succubus.”

A quiet gasp came from her thin lips. “A succubus?”

“Yes, and I need to feed the ardeur rather frequently. My job here at Animator’s Inc. is the least of my worries. I’m tied down in so many ways. And even if I could leave for an extended period of time, I’d have to find a cemetery. I can’t ignore my Necromancy, or else I’ll start raising the dead on accident. Magical build up is never pretty with me.” I tried to look apologetic as I spoke, but it was awfully hard since I wasn’t feeling that way.

Ms McGonagall stared at me for a long while, I could practically hear the gears grinding in her brain; the look of concentration on her face was that great. Trying to find a way to get me across the ocean, she seemed to really want me for this job; I thought she was crazy.

It was stupid really; I was the executioner, why did this woman want me to teach a class to a bunch of kids? I was practically one of the things that went bump in the night and she’d even admitted that her world feared any type of death magic.

“Ms. Blake?” I jumped a bit, shaken from my own thoughts.

“Yes?”

“If you were allowed to bring a few people with you, to feed this ardeur, and to return to St. Louis periodically by Port Key would you consider it?”

I was too shocked to say much to that, so I grabbed at the unfamiliar words. “Port Key?”

I must have looked as shocked as I felt because all of a sudden there was gleam in her tired eyes that hadn’t been there before; conniving old woman. “Yes, a magically charmed object that can transport a person to just about anywhere on the globe.”

Though the idea sounded better than flying I shook my head. “I can’t do it. The ardeur needs to be fed daily or else my Leopard and Vampire are at risk. And the feedings need to be spread out; I can’t feed off of the same person each time. And I don’t do anyone under twenty.”

The Headmistress looked so unhappy right then that I could hardly stand to look at her, but I managed to hold her gaze as best I could. “How many people would you need to bring with you?”

“What?” Didn’t she know when to quit?

“You’ve more or less said that you can’t travel alone, because you are a succubus, I can understand that. But the castle is large and I can think of no one more suited for this position. Even in my world Ms. Blake you are well known in certain circles for your dealings with vampires. You—“

“That’s enough.”

“But—“

“You need to leave now.” I stood; an attempt to reinforce my statement. “I’m not leaving St. Louis; you need to find someone else to teach your class Ms. McGonagall. I’m a Necromancer and the Executioner, I’m sure the parents of your students wouldn’t want someone like me teaching at your school.”

“Ms. Blake.”

“Goodbye Ms. McGonagall.”

The old witch sighed heavily. “I would like you to at least think about it. Perhaps you should get the Master’s input.” She stood and nodded her head at me, and then with a loud crack like hollow thunder she was gone.

In the following silence I gathered my things, her parting words running through my head. I’d talk to Jean Claude alright, and he’d agree with me that the whole thing was not only crazy, but suicidal as hell. He would just be able to say it prettier than I ever could.

XXX