Albus Dumbledore was at a crossroad. This year, the Ministry, and Hogwarts by extension, was playing host to the Tri-Wizard tournament. Eternal Glory, and a singular payment of one thousand galleons; alongside a chance for Witches and Wizards of some of the best schools in Europe to collaborate and share the spirit of international magical cooperation.

Or rather, that was how The Minister had wished to sell it to the board. Albus had been around long enough to know that there was more to this than cooperation. The Minister's ratings had been falling for half a decade, and this was his attempt to stall and impress. Unfortunately, he'd also retained Alastor Moody as a new bodyguard, at the suggestion of Lucius Malfoy, near the same time that Albus had wished to offer him the position of Defense Teacher.

Moody had done his best to assuage worries, assuring Albus that it'd be best to watch from afar where he could keep both eyes open. The irony was not lost on Albus, nor was the fact that he was suddenly without a defense teacher.

All of which had brought him to his current state, the rejection of yet another sub par defense instructor.

"Apologies Miss... Everhart," he offered, his eyes twinkling over the edge of his spectacles. "While you don't quite meet the qualifications this year, I do encourage you to apply again next year. We have no shortage of need for competent Defense teachers," he smiled genially, watching the Witch dab her teary eyes, and retreat from his office.

A weary sigh escaped him, twenty possible professors, and now twenty rejections. The act had weighed on both his soul and his patience. Albus took no joy in his rejections, just as he took no pleasure in spending an entire day interviewing said candidates.

"Perhaps Miss Everhart wouldn't have been such a terrible option after all, Fawkes?" The Phoenix trilled in agreement, the song lifting his mood. "Perhaps..."

Two sharp raps emanated from his door, before falling silent. Curious, he hadn't summoned anyone... though as they said, some of the best gifts were a surprise.

"Come in."

The door swung open, and the man who entered was, as Susan Bones had often mentioned, dressed so muggle! He was tall and lithe, dressed in a black shirt and blue jeans, complete with a tight green headband securing his dark hair. His face was a mess of scars, and a pair of emerald serpent tattoos twisted down the strangers arms. The man grasped his waist, tightening a deep green coat that was lazily tied around him.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, brother," he grinned deeply. American, definitely American. Or perhaps... a tinge of something else among the flamboyant accent.

"Apologies, I wasn't expecting another guest today Mr...?"

The man waved his hand, "Names slow us down! You're welcome to call me Drifter. Or Wander! Whatever strikes your fancy." The grin never left his face, maddeningly striking.

"Drifter then," Dumbledore replied, clapping his hands together. "I take it you've come to apply for the position of Professor? I admit, I didn't see your name among the twenty candidates selected..."

Once again he waver off the Headmasters worries, "Let's just call me lucky twenty one then, eh? I heard that you were looking for a new Dark Arts professor, and I just HAD to get my shot in!"

Albus coughed genially, "DEFENSE against the Dark Arts, yes," he stressed. The stranger shrugged, as if one could not be differentiated from the other.

A slim piece of parchment, a letter, appeared in his palm. Said letter slid across the table, settling in front of Albus. "Let's just call this my resume. Everything you need to know."

Albus tapped the parchment softly, as if he were unsure if it actually existed. Cursory sensor charms denoted the paper as safe, but one could never be too careful.

The letter spoke of much, a great deal of which gave Albus pause. This man was... interesting. Interesting indeed.

"If you were going to assume a professorship here, you'd certainly need a more concrete name," Albus chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

The Drifter ran a hand over his dark stubble, the grin never having left. "Heh, the kids can call me Pev... P. Professor P."

Yes, an interesting young fellow indeed.

Howdy there! I'd like to play the newest Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry- Mr.P!

Definitely a story heavy plot, and I'd deeply appreciate someone who had a depth of knowledge about the Fandom itself. Canon characters are also appreciated, but not COMPLETELY necessary! Literate folks to the front of the line!

Anyhow, if you managed to get through all of this, I'd love to chat with you, and hope that we can build ourselves something delightful!