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Disclaimer.
J.K Rowling went out one day so I took her characters out to play.
We ran around, they laughed with glee,
All this fun and she works for free!

A/N

This was my first fic, please read and review. Some of the ideas may seem old but I hope I've put a new spin on the story. This plot bunny has buzzed around for a while in my head. The story won't move fast but I want you to know the characters well and there is more than one sub story to tell. The story is now AU following HBP. The female lead may seem Mary Sue, but there is a reason that will become clear later. She is emotionally vulnerable though. I hope you like her.

Chapter 1: New Ideas.

It seemed the fate of every society that the youth would have the encumbrances of old prejudices foisted upon them, while the elders pulled the strings in an age-old game of one-up-man ship; hence the tale of Hogwarts and Harry Potter.

Dumbledore's Army had been practicing faithfully since the debacle involving the ministry imposed DADA teacher Dolores Umbridge. To put it simply, they were honing skills not being taught in class and the members were determined to become proficient in whatever spells, charms or hexes they could master in order to survive. There was no doubt in anyone's mind, that the lessons learned, eventually, would be put to practical use.

Headmaster Dumbledore had passively observed the DA, offering tacit approval. In fact, he had taken responsibility for their actions protecting them from the Umbridge woman and her sadistic punishment when they had been discovered. He admired the determination of his young charges. He also knew there were limits to what their magic could do against an army of adults who had be trained by a ruthless master and so had pondered long on how to bolster their weakness.

Decades before, Dumbledore had taken on Grindelwald and defeated him. The dark wizard had risen during what Muggles called, World War II, and had used the maelstrom to cover his own acts of brutality in an attempt to take over the Wizarding world.

Looking back, the old wizard remembered the bold and innovative manoeuvres undertaken by the Muggle military during this time. More than once, the Muggles had fought against magically enhanced enemies and triumphed through sheer determination and bloody mindedness. Dumbledore had come to realize that wizards tended to become complacent when they took their powers for granted. Moreover, the more powerful the wizard, the less likely they would be to get their hands dirty in actual fighting. These were weaknesses to exploit.

The challenge before Dumbledore and the Order, was how to empower the DA with the ability to use the enemy's weakness against them. To that end, the Headmaster came to a monumental decision. Hogwarts needed to hire a mercenary, with knowledge of military tactics, martial arts and stealth warfare. In addition, they had to be a teacher of Muggle studies - it's all the budget would allow for at the school. Somehow, Dumbledore doubted the governors would pass an expense for a Military Liaison, but they did need a new teacher.

With a plan in mind, Dumbledore summoned the closest thing he had to a military advisor on staff at the school. Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and inveterate bastard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Headmaster couldn't remember when the professor had laughed longer or harder in his presence.

"Oh Albus, you offer a diversion to an otherwise dismal day." sputtered Snape, while wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "What next? Will Minerva lead the Pipes and Drums before us going into battle with the Dark Lord? I'm sure she has connections with the Black Watch Regiment." His laughter was not mirrored on the Headmaster's face.

"Ahem." coughed Snape, realizing Dumbledore was not sharing in the levity.

"You can't be serious, Albus. Teach military tactics to mere children?" asked an incredulous Potions Master.

"Severus, when I fought Grindelwald, young men of the same age as our sixth and seventh years, were fighting and dying for causes they barely understood. Muggles have an amazing capacity for overcoming seemingly insurmountable difficulty. They accomplished Herculean tasks because they had training and discipline. They had confidence in themselves and their compatriots." Dumbledore stood and walked around his desk to sit beside his young colleague.

'Even today," Dumbledore pointed out, "young men and women, Muggles, are serving their country in the Armed Forces, defending their home against those who would seek to usurp their hard won freedoms."

Sitting back in the chair Dumbledore cast his final hook. "Surely you wouldn't deny our young people the advantages offered Muggle armies in terms of training simply because it's a Muggle concept, Severus. You yourself are a great proponent of discipline and order. It's the least we can do to help them in this cause."

Snape sat in his chair looking at his mentor. He wondered, not for the first time, whether the old man was a genius in disguise or stark raving mad.

"How are we to go about finding this.....mug.....ahem, person?" asked Snape.

"Oh, I'd thought about that," said Dumbledore, returning to sit behind his desk "I plan to put a help wanted advertisement on the...what's it called....Infernal net," smiled the old man.

Snape felt his eyebrow ascend to his hairline. "You mean the Internet."

"Yes, that's it Severus, the Internet. A brilliant idea don't you think?" Dumbledore beamed over his half moon glasses.

'That's it,' thought Snape, 'he's gone barmy; we have a raving lunatic as our leader'. To Dumbledore he replied, "Brilliant's not the word sir, it doesn't do justice to the idea."

Severus only hoped the old man wasn't using Legimens on him at that moment.
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The best time of day was immediately before the sun rose above the horizon; that moment, when the first pink beams of light shattered the blackness of a mid-ocean night. It was like witnessing the creation myth of the bible happening again, every morning. There was something pure, perfect and eternal about the experience; something personal, not to be shared with those who did not understand.

Not that it was likely any of her crewmates, outside of the Padre, would appreciate what the experience meant to her. Bad enough to be thought of as too 'Deep', too 'Introspective', for her own good by peers and superiors alike. Better, not be too 'Spiritual'. Fuck no! Don't contemplate your navel or make insightful comments. That makes you a freak. So, instead, she kept her feelings and thoughts to herself.

Levering herself up off the deck where she had been seated cross legged for the past half hour, Lieutenant Phaelan McKenzie, USN, made her way across to the hatch to climb back into the mini-city of the aircraft carrier. She had intended to hit the officer's mess for an early breakfast, before going for the pre-flight briefing.

"Hey, Deathangel!"

Her head swivelled to see who had used her aviator's call sign.

"Yo! McKenzie, CAG wants to see you ASAP in his office." She acknowledged her fellow pilot, Kevin Shue, with a wave of her hand and headed off to see her boss.

Making her way through the warren of gangways and decks, Phaelan ended up at the appointed place. Knocking at the entryway, she waited for permission to enter.

"In. Secure the hatch," came the terse command.

Phaelan stepped over the threshold into the broom closet sized cabin and closed the door behind her.

"Lt. Cmdr. Phaelan McKenzie reporting as ordered sir." She snapped a crisp salute and stood at attention, waiting for the Captain Air Group to recognize her.

"At ease, Miss McKenzie; take a seat," came the acknowledgement from her superior. Phaelan removed her cap and sat in the chair on her side of the desk.

The older man, Captain George Glover, had been her mentor for over two years now. He had been the one most aware of the inner turmoil she had experienced, since coming under his command. He looked at the young woman, who reminded him so much of his own daughter; he felt homesickness for a moment. He shook his head and reminded himself the female sailor in front of him was nothing like his daughter.

Phaelan McKenzie, in appearance, could best be described as compact. She stood 5'4" in stocking feet and weighed around 120 to 125 lbs. Not skinny by any means, but, beneath the loose fitting uniform, her body was made up of well-developed muscle. She was by most men's estimation 'Stacked'.

"Phaelan, I have here your orders, to be moved to reserve status. Like we'd discussed, you'll be in reserve for the next year before receiving terminal leave." The Captain pushed a folder of papers across the desk towards her.

"The terms of your change of status are outlined in the contract. You must report monthly to put in flight time, to keep you active for the flight line. Oh, and you need to keep up on the marksmanship as well." He sat back in his chair and observed the young woman before him. She looked blankly at the folder in front of her.

"Are you sure about this Phaelan? Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" The feelings of affection he had for his pilot were evident to anyone within earshot.

"You're giving up the chance to have a brilliant career. Your assessments are outstanding. All of your CO's give you glowing reports. You've gone out of your way to learn new skills. You've volunteered for assignments that many men have shied away from attempting. Shit, I would never have tried out for the SEAL's. But you did!"

Finally, in irritation, the CAG leaned across the desk and yelled, "What the hell do you want for your life?" He slammed his hand down on the top of his desk bringing Phaelan to her feet in front of him.

"I don't know!" she yelled back at her superior. She put her had over her mouth realizing the huge breach of etiquette she had just committed.

"Forgive me sir. I forget myself." She sat in the chair once more. "I really don't know what I want anymore. I do know that I can't continue to live the life I have in the Navy."

Looking at the wall behind the desk she tried to put into perspective what it was that brought her to this decision.

"All that you have said is true. There was not a moment I was prouder of than the day that I received my aviator's wings. I thought that this would fulfil all the dreams I had of adventure and of making a difference to the world." She fingered her cap in her hands.

"When the opportunity to tryout for the SEAL's was offered, I jumped at the chance, thinking I could advance the cause of women in the military." She snorted at the memory.

"I swear that marine sergeant laughed when I fell and broke my collarbone that last week. I never rang the bell though." Phaelan looked up to her captain's face at this, and he smiled recognizing her pride at never giving up.

"There are just some things I was asked to do - that I can't speak about - that have changed my perspective on the military, my country, the world....well, everything to tell the truth." She took a deep breath.

"It's time to rethink my priorities, time to decide what I think is important, in the face of all I've come to know and understand." Having said all this, Phaelan felt a burden lifted from her shoulders.

The CAG opened the folder and pointed at the page. "Just sign here, here and here." He reached over to the intercom, "Yeoman, step into my office."

"Just one question Lieutenant, why do you want to serve your reserve status in England?" he asked.

Phaelan looked up from the forms she had finished signing. "My father's family hailed from the UK and Europe. I thought I might get acquainted with the old country."

She put down the pen and continued. "I've also noticed some private schools there, that are willing to hire people who have no teaching credentials in particular. I thought that might make a change from your usual spit and polish of Navy Brass. What could be safer than teaching a bunch of rich kids at a country club of a school in the rolling hills of Britain?" She smiled at the thought of a comfortable job for a while.

The CAG stood up extending his hand to shake Phaelan's. "Good luck, Phaelan. I know you'll succeed in anything you choose. Keep in touch. I'll miss seeing you around."

"Thank you sir; for everything." Phaelan released his hand and stood back ready to leave.

"Your transport leaves at 16:00 hours today. Be ready to go. The Yeoman will have your papers ready before then. Carry On."

Phaelan came to attention and saluted. "Aye, aye sir." With a sharp about face, she marched out of the office.

Making her way up to the flight deck, Phaelan grabbed some ear protection, before stepping out into the morning sunshine.

"Hey McKenzie, what'd the old man want?" Phaelan looked over her shoulder to see her RIO Aaron Gouberstien watching the flight line with her.

"How's it hangin' Goober?" she greeted her friend, with a smile.

"Low and heavy, sugar. Want to help relieve a desperate man?" he answered with a suggestive wiggle of eyebrows.

"In your dreams lover boy or should I say; Red-light lieutenant." Phaelan laughed at the military way of deflecting unwanted advances. Some women may have found the banter heard around the mess between the sexes to be crude and tasteless but you didn't last long with a thin skin in the Navy. You had to be able to give as good as you got, whether male or female.

"So, seriously; what did CAG want?" Aaron asked.

"Let's go for coffee and talk," she suggested and led the way to the mess.

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It was unusual for Arthur Weasley to receive a summons to meet Albus Dumbledore in his office at the school. At least, unusual in the fact that it was not about one of his children's pranks gone awry. He wondered what it could be, as the request had been made openly through the Ministry and was therefore not Order business.

Remus Lupin was in the library at 12 Grimmauld Place when he heard a tapping at the window. He arose to find a Hogwarts owl with a note addressed to him attached to its leg. It obviously was not an emergency, requiring the Order to be activated or Albus would have used the floo to send a message. Opening the letter, he read:

Dear Remus,

In the upcoming year, Hogwarts will have an opening for a new professor of Muggle Studies. As we are looking at a change in the current curriculum for that subject, we must ensure the replacement professor will have sufficient qualifications to meet the requirements.

To that end, I am requesting Arthur Weasley, and yourself, to meet with me at Hogwarts tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock in the morning. Your unique skills as a judge of character, combined with Arthur's knowledge of Muggles, will enable us to better assemble a profile of the teacher we want.

I look forward to seeing you.

Regards

A. P. W. B. Dumbledore

Headmaster.

Therefore, the two wizards met at the gates to Hogwarts and headed in to meet Dumbledore. Walking towards the gargoyle entrance to the Headmaster's office, they met up with Snape and McGonagall who were on their way to the same meeting.

"Good Morning Minerva, Severus," beamed a smiling Arthur Weasley.

"Good Morning Arthur, Remus," replied Minerva..

'Weasley," Snape nodded at Arthur before turning to Remus with a sneer. "Lupin, nice to get out of your cage, hmm?".

"Nice to see you too, Severus, Minerva." Remus refused to rise to Snape's taunt, choosing to focus on the statue in front of them.

"Snickerdoodle," called Minerva and the gargoyle swung open to the stairs leading to Dumbledore's office. The four traipsed up the stairs to a twinkling greeting from the Headmaster.

"Welcome all," he greetedm "Let's order some tea and discuss my ideas for the new curriculum in Muggle studies. I'm sure you'll find it quite innovative. Wouldn't you say Severus?"

"Innovative. Yes, well, that's one way to put it," scowled Snape.

"You've heard the idea then, Severus?" queried McGonagall, "Pray, how would you describe it then?"

"Incredible." He snorted.

"Come now, Severus," said Dumbledore, "it has the virtue of never having been tried before."

"All right, Albus, let us in on your plan. You've tweaked my interest by annoying Severus with it. It can't all be bad," smiled Remus.

"Wait until you hear the plan," averred Snape.

A tea tray appeared on the side table between the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, would you play Mother and pour tea for us please?" requested Dumbledore, as he settled back into his chair, ready to regale his guests with his brilliant idea.

"So," he began, "it appears we will need new Professor of Muggle studies for the coming year, and to that end, I think we need to update our current curriculum, to better fit the modern world and our understanding of Muggles."

"It also offers an opportunity to bring on staff, someone eh....young, knowledgeable and conversant with modern, military history." Dumbledore looked over his spectacles at his audience.

They all looked back at him in confusion, save for Snape, who busied himself with his chocolate digestive biscuit and tea.

Remus was the first to speak. "What are you not saying, Albus?" he asked in a suspicious tone.

"This does have something to do with the order, doesn't it, Headmaster?" asked Arthur Weasley.

"Don't beat around the bush Headmaster, give them both barrels, you should pardon the expression," sneered Shape. "Wait till you here the next part.," he drawled, looking at the rest of the company.

"Thank you, Severus; you've made your feelings known." Dumbledore gave him a withering look, at which Snape cocked his head and raised his eyebrow.

"You all know what happened when Dolores Umbridge took over the DADA classes." Dumbledore became serious at this point. "I found it alarming that our senior students deemed it necessary to begin teaching themselves defensive spells and hexes without adult supervision. It's obvious that they felt threatened. Enough so that they would risk expulsion or worse, by conducting these training sessions in secret."

Arthur sat forward in his chair. "My understanding is that the Ministry agrees that the students need a good background in both recognizing and defending against the Dark Arts. I believe they are looking at finding another Auror for the position this year."

Yes, be that as it may my boy," answered Dumbledore, "whoever is given that position, will still be under Ministry scrutiny."

"What are you suggesting Albus? That we give covert lessons to a select group of pupils in advanced DADA?" McGonagall's Scots burr became a bit deeper indicating her concern.

"That's not a bad idea Minerva, but that's not all, is it Albus?" questioned Lupin, his senses picking up additional tension in the Headmaster.

Gryffindor twinkling or not, Dumbledore had a distinct Slytherin deviousness about him, as all present well knew.

Leaning forward with enthusiasm, Dumbledore set out his brilliant plan. "I want to hire someone with recent military experience. Not just marching around and saluting mind you; someone who has seen and participated in military sorties. I want to train our youth to be as efficient and self sufficient as any young soldier in the Muggle world today." He gave them time to absorb what he just said.

"Of course, whoever is chosen, must also be able to fit the bill as our Muggle Studies teacher. It wouldn't do to choose just a cutthroat assassin. This person will need to have legitimate credentials to be completely credible as a teacher." Dumbledore smiled at his trusted advisors in front of him.

Arthur recovered first. "Is it your intention to turn our children into some kind of...of Compactor group Headmaster?" His voice betrayed his anxiety, bordering on anger.

"I think you mean Commando group, Arthur," Snape interjected. "I don't believe our Headmaster intends to turn Hogwarts into a military training ground."

"No indeed, Arthur. My intention is to give our young people skills not taught in DADA; such skills as, teamwork, strategy, self-defence skills. I want to let them grow in the knowledge that they are capable of so much more than they might first think."

Dumbledore looked around the silent group in front of him. "And lastly, I want them to have discipline. Not the stuff of detentions and cancelled privileges. They need the true discipline, of making hard choices and sacrifices. They don't have the luxury of learning how to make decisions based on life experience. Some of these young people may not live long enough to have any life experience. Let me give them as much ability as I can, so that they can live and curse us all for making their lives more difficult. Give them the tools to survive."

This was the Dumbledore they all admired and followed. This was the leader with vision.

Putting down his cup, Lupin was the first to speak. "Alright, Albus, what do you need us to do."

"Splendid!" said the Headmaster. "What I thought we would do, is create a position vacant listing to be advertised in the Muggle manner. I have it on good authority that all Muggles look for jobs on the World Wide Web."

"They use spiders for advertising in the Muggle world these days?" asked an incredulous Minerva.

"No, no Minerva," answered Arthur, "The Web is a communication tool, rather like a combination of fellytones and tellyvisions"

"Yes, quite," said the Headmaster. "To that end, we will draft a posting to be advertised at the appropriate place on the Infernal net"

"Internet." interjected Snape

"And Arthur, you will find someone to write this on the computer thing." Dumbledore loved it when a plan came together and his twinkling became positively blinding today.

Severus Snape saw his life become a lot more difficult. And yes, that was definitely a migraine coming on. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"Severus," he looked up to see McGonagall's concerned look. "Don't be so upset. This shouldn't make things any harder than they are today for you."

"You have no idea, Minerva," he replied, "You have no idea."

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Phaelan finished packing her gear and looked around the cabin she shared with Lt. Cmdr. Alicia Ali. She had shared the quarters with Alicia since coming aboard, but had not but a nodding acquaintance with her roommate. They did not have the same duty stations or shifts and only saw each other in passing. Phaelan briefly made her goodbyes, leaving a note on her roomies bed. She hoped whoever took over her bunk would be a better companion to Alicia.

After stopping by the Yeoman's office, Phaelan made her way to the Officers Mess to kill time until her flight took off. She thought she would catch a quick lunch, not knowing when her travel plans would allow a time for a meal in the next 48 hours. She walked down the corridor leading to the mess, going over in her mind the conversation she had with her RIO.

Earlier...

Phaelan sat at the table with her RIO,, and explained what she had decided to do with her life and future.

"So, you're really going kid." Aaron looked at his friend and pilot, who was 6 months younger than he was, with such sad puppy dog eyes that Phaelan couldn't help but laugh.

"Shit, Goober, you'd think I had a terminal disease or something." Phaelan reached over and rubbed the short crew cut on her crewmates' head. "I've just decided that my life is not here, Aaron." Phaelan tried to explain her decision without actually saying anything. "I need to move on to greener grass, clean slate and all those clichés." She knew she was making no sense, but she no longer cared.

"Fuck, Deathangel, what kind of shit-for-brains aviator are they going to assign my ass to now?" exclaimed the young hotspur in front of her.

"Sweetie, just remember you're protecting their ass. They're just driving and pointing the guns. Whoever it is had better treat you right or I'll come back and kick their butt." Phaelan reached across and squeezed his arm. "You'll do fine."

She stood up to leave. "Gotta' pack. See you before I leave, OK?"

Now...

Phaelan requested a rating to move her gear to the loading area of the deck. She included her guitar, with instructions to treat it carefully. Taking one last look around, she picked up her small personal kit and made her way to the flight deck.

"And where did you think you were going, Lieutenant McKenzie?"

Phaelan turned to see her wingman, Lt. Cmdr Shue, standing glaring at her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You got a problem Shue?" she asked.

"Yeah, I've got a problem with someone trying to sneak away with out a word of goodbye to her crewmates. I've got a problem with my wingman not telling me I'm gonna get a newbie to cover my six."

Her former messmates and flight crew stood behind Shue, quietly listening to the exchange, and Phaelan became aware of their stares.

"You know what really pisses me off though?" the taller man looked down belligerently at the shorter woman. "It really pisses me off you would leave...." he turned to a rating behind him and pulled out a gift, "And not take something to remember your friends by."

The CAG suddenly appeared and a voice called out "Attention!" The entire crew became silent and snapped to attention.

"As you were," called the senior officer.

"So, McKenzie, was it your intention to sneak away like a thief in the night?" asked the Boss.

"No sir. I just didn't expect anyone else to know, exactly." Phaelan didn't quite know what to make of what was happening.

"Well, you'd better do something to warrant this attention, Miss McKenzie." CAG stepped back.

Phaelan began to say goodbye. "I've decided, after some very long thought and many discussions with quite a few people, to take some time away from active duty. It's not been an easy decision, but I think it's for the best." She felt tears coming and that would simply not be acceptable for Deathangel.

"I'll miss you all very much. I've been honoured to serve with you. Make sure to watch each other's six."

"Lieutenant, your orders came through faster than anticipated. Your Mess had no notice, prior to today, that you would be leaving indefinitely. Nevertheless, they did manage in their usual, underhanded way, to come up with a keepsake to remind you of your time with us. Open your presentation."

She smiled and opened the present. The gift was wrapped in paper featuring Rudolph the Red nosed Reindeer.

"It was that or Baby Shower paper," called Goober.

Surrounded by an official Navy issue frame, was a picture portrait of the flight she had served with this past year. She realized they must have done this while she had been packing and that the processing of the picture had been done in the photo labs onboard, PDQ (Pretty Damn Quick).

Phaelan hadn't realized the feelings she had engendered among her crewmates until now and the understanding was almost overwhelming. She looked back at them, and let the tears that had threatened before now fall.

"Be safe; don't do anything stupid to get yourselves hurt but most of all....look after each other. If you don't look out for your friends, what hope is there for the rest of the world? Thank you. I'll keep you in my prayers."

She ran out to the flight deck to board the STAL plane, which would take her to her new life. In an hour or so, she would be leaving the security she had known for 9 years, if you included her time at the naval academy, and she was suddenly afraid.

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It had taken several hours and more than a few arguments but the Ad Hoc hiring committee of Hogwarts had finally authored an advertisement for the vacancy of Muggle Studies teacher.

"Positions Vacant - Teacher - Private Institution.

'An exclusive, specialty, preparatory school has a current opening for a teacher of Modern History and Social Studies. The position will entail the instruction of a co-ed student body, between the ages of 11 & 18 years of age, in the recent history of the U.K, Western Europe and North America. In addition, the incumbent will be required to provide instruction regarding the social customs and morals of 20th Century culture in our global society.

In order to fulfil staffing requirements, the incumbent must also be qualified in physical fitness, martial arts and should have recent (within the past 2 years) active military experience. Employment would commence as soon as possible.

Please forward a C.V. to the e-mail address below, citing all relevant experience and credentials to attention, Professor R. Lupin. Please use the word 'Hogwarts' in the subject line'.

"Do you know how you're going to get this onto a computer, Arthur? asked Minerva McGonagall.

"Yes, Minerva, I do actually," replied Arthur Weasley who was at first reticent to agree to this idea, "Hermione Granger's parents have become friends of a sort with Molly and me since Ron and her first year. I'm sure if I ask, Mr. Granger will be happy to help."

Mr. Weasley turned to the Headmaster and asked, "Albus, for the e-mail address, you usually have to pick something you can identify easily with. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Oh, I'm not sure Arthur. How about something utterly non-Muggle like Quidditch?" answered Dumbledore.

Since both parties were clueless as to the nuances of an e-mail address, the first e-mail address for Hogwarts became 'quidditchballs3@hotmail.com. No one said wizards were tasteful.