Here To Stay
HP and DC Comics Crossover
Summary: Hogwarts gets a new DADA teacher, but this one is here to stay.
I got this prompt from a headcanon from the amazing @arkhamsdarkestknight This wonderful person allowed me to expand on the idea. Thank you so much!
The class was in an uproar, feeling the freedom of having a teacher be late on the first day of classes. Another year, and another Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher that wouldn’t last. Magic paper airplanes soared over the heads of student, while some tried to read and others chatted with their desk partners. As the chatting got louder, the other students raised their voices to be heard, so the volume was steadily getting louder and louder. It hadn’t been even ten minutes after the start of class, when the doors burst open and a tall blonde figure walked in.
The class fell silent, staring at the strange man who walked to the front of the room in long strides. His dark red tie hung loosely, the top button of his shirt undone. His long tan trench coat billowed behind him, almost looking like a superhero cape. A lit cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the smoke curling into the air.
He got to the front of the room, placing a small glass on the table. It was filled with what looked to be firewhiskey, but most students were too busy whispering about the scruffy looking teacher to notice.
“Merlin’s beard, is that our new teacher?” A girl from Gryffindor whispered to the Slytherin next to her. The Slytherin, to busy staring at the teacher to respond, only nodded her head. While most of the girls were fawning over the blonde, the boys were busy making theories on why he was late.
“Maybe he was busy fighting a dragon!” A Gryffindor boy exclaimed to his friend, looking at the burn bottom of the man’s trench coat. He didn’t know that it had actually been caused by a particularly nasty demon, and it wouldn’t be till the got to chapter 47 of that years book, would he find out.
John Constantine looked around at the chatty young students, dreading the years he would have to teach here. He wondered why he had accepted the job from the old headmaster, when he could be off drinking in a bar somewhere nice. With a sigh, he dropped his cigarette onto the ground, pressing his shoe on it and putting it out. He clapped his hands, gaining the attention of the two houses of third years.
“So, You’re stuck with me for four years, so I am gonna lay down some rules right now.” His gruff accent echoed against the walls, no other noise present in the room.
“Any students three minutes late or more, will get detention, and students over five minutes late will be locked out of the classroom and forced to take make-up classes during break hours. There will be NO talking unless prompted to. And last, I don’t care how your last teacher did things. I’m teaching this class my way and there will be no arguments. Understand?” The students nodded, fear in their eyes at the hard gaze he was sending them.
“Good. My name is Constantine, and I will be your Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher for the next four years of your schooling here.” At the end of his sentence, a timid hand raised from the back of the class. A scared third year Slytherin boy was practically shaking as he looked to the the new teacher. Constantine nodded to the boy, simultaneously pulling a new cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a snap of his fingers. A few of the students jumped, looking on in awe.
“That’s actually not true, Professor.” Constantine raised an eyebrow, motioning to the boy.
“And what part of what I just said is false Mr...?”
“Damian sir. I don’t know if you know sir, but your teaching position in cursed sir. No teacher lasts longer than a year in your spot, whether it be due to injury, altercations with their work ability...or....death, sir.” The boys voice quivered, as Constantine glanced down at the floor with a smirk. A curse, eh? That was a new one. A cursed teaching job. He looked back up, motioning to the boy.
“A question for you then, Mr Damian. Do I look like any of the other teachers you’ve seen?” The boy shook his head, looking Constantine up and down, staring longer at the lit cigarette.
“Than tell me one more thing. Do you think I will honestly end up like your other teachers?” This time, the whole class nodded, no doubt in their minds at the question. John almost couldn’t believe that a whole school held the assumption that he would be gone in a year. Normally, he would have quit the spot after this year, going back to helping the Justice League like he was before he arrived that day, but now he couldn’t just leave this. The opportunity to break a curse. I mean, that’s what his job was right? Fighting off the evil demons or ending curses.
“Well then, we’ll just have to see then, won’t we. Now, Turn to chapter one. I believe we have some unforgivable curses to go over.”
Four Years Later
The same class of students sat before Constantine, four years after his first day there. His favorite student, the Slytherin boy Damian, sat in the desk closest to him, tearing through the questions on his N.E.W.T.S test. All of the students now sat at their desks for possibly the last time in their lives, taking the most important test of their whole school year.
A glass of Firewhiskey rested in Constantine’s hand, a cigarette in the other. He looked down at all of the students, remembering their shocked faces the second year he hand come to teach at the school. From that point on, every student in the school had held a sort of silent respect for the chain-smoking, constantly drunk, demonologist. Most of the teachers knew he was the favorite, the cool teacher who hunted evil things in his spare time. Most first years looked up to him like a god, while most of the seventh years knew how human he truly was, and how dangerous his class really ended up being.
There had been a few incidents of children ending up in the infirmary, or having to be sent home for a few months due to trauma, but there was no doubt in everyone's mind that John Constantine was a miracle.
The small egg timer went off on the desk behind him, signalling the end of the testing period. The students turned their papers over, waiting for John to collect them. He chanted a small spell under his breath, having the papers float up to his own desk, then looked on to all of the students.
“That’s it for today, class dismissed.” Most of the students got up, packing their stuff and practically sprinting to the door. It was the last class of the day, and they were all geared up to get to dinner. Damian, remained in the class, walking up to the Blonde teacher. He had grown over the four years, now almost as tall as John. Reaching into his robe pocket he pulled out a small gift box, placing it on the desk in front of Constantine.
“Here. The class got this for you, as a thank you. Have a good year Professor.” Turning away, Damian walked out of the classroom, leaving Constantine to relax. He stared at the small black box, debating on whether or not to open it. He had known a couple of his students to be troublemakers, and didn’t trust it to not explode in his face with a jinx. Hesitantly he grabbed it, pulling the lid off and staring at the object inside.
A small card rested on the top, all the names of the students in this class signed onto it. Pulling the card out and resting it on his desk, he stared down at the small silver lighter that rested on navy blue packaging. Inscribed on it, was an etching in fancy cursive writing.
‘To The Greatest DADA Teacher, Who Proved Us All Wrong’
Constantine chuckled, looking back to the card, which had the same fancy cursive writing on the back.
‘We thought you could use a lighter since your always lighting those Cigarettes with your fingers. Have a nice year Professor, and try not to die.’
