au_hogwarts | (no subject)

It's late on a September school night - students should all be doing homework now, really. The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor certainly is. She's marking papers in her classroom, and occasionally batting away an errant pixie.

She's new to the school this year - this month - but she's been told that legend has it a batch of Cornish Pixies were released in this room around 1992 and nobody's ever managed to exterminate them properly. Legend has it, too, that they've evolved and become ever more intelligent, due to the high levels of magic in the air around Hogwarts.

Legend has an awful lot of things. Professor Brown is still making up her mind on whether or not any of them are real.

Teaching is kind of a new gig, and Hogwarts isn't very clear on what, exactly, the expectations for this Defence class are. So her first paper for the sixth-years is along the lines of: "This is what's attacking you. How do you defend? Give three options and three possible escape routes."

Her students' responses to that are -- apparently kind of entertaining, judging by the occasional hint of muffled laughter audible even from the corridor.

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"Y'know, I can hear you laughing from the corridor, right?"

Professor Ross, in her second year teaching History of Magic, wanders into the room from outside, grinning wildly.

It's a particularly disturbing look when coupled with her two enchanted false eyes that spin around unrelated to each other.

"Are your students that funny?"

Professor Brown looks up, quickly making her face perfectly straight. Very, Very Solemn.

"I'm not laughing. Why would I be laughing? I totally don't think kids' serious, heartfelt essays are funny in the slightest. Oh God, I'm a terrible person."

"Hey, you can be as terrible a person as y'like, as long as you're not a terrible teacher."

Professor Ross grins and finds herself an empty seat at a desk. "Hey, you mind if I pop my eyes out? These things are murder."

"Go for it." Steph pushes her stack of papers aside and leans back in her chair, an impressive array of cracks issuing from her back. "They really that uncomfortable? I always thought it'd be handy to have one of those things."

Leah leans her head back so her fcae is turned towards the ceiling, and after a couple of wet popping sounds, there are two small balls floating in the air above her, where they spin gently, occasionally focusing on something in the classroom.

"Everyone says that, but I don't see anyone in a rush to get 'em, y'know?"

Rubbing at her empty sockets, she chuckles. "It's like wearing shoes he entire time, y'know? Only shoes that only come in one size, and have two inch heels."

Steph flexes her feet, wincing in sympathy.

"The students tell me you can see through anything, though - and spot if there's someone invisible around." She grins. "I don't know if it's true -- and you're welcome not to tell me, if you don't like to talk about it. The kids just sound so awed."

Leah grins.

"Yeah, they've been really helpful in building up a proper scary reputation. Can you do me a favour? Deny everything you hear about me. No matter how sure you are that it's true."

Steph laughs. "No problems. In a way to reassure them, or just to terrify them?"

"Can you pretend it's the former in a way that implies the latter?" Leah asks. "It's a hard task, I know."

"Oh, I like your style." Steph grins, and offers a solemn pinky to promise. "I'll make sure they live in fear of you, don't worry. 'No, no, Professor Ross is completely human; why would you ask that, child? How foolish.'"

A floating eye rotates around until it fixes on the finger, and Leah, grinning, takes it in her own.

"It's Leah, by the by."

Steph grins at her. "Steph. Pleasure to meet you properly."

"You too," Leah says. "Welcome to life on this side of the desks."

She breaks off for a second, grabs her wand and points it over her shoulder. "IMMOBILUS!"

And one of those imps drops to the floor.
The very best thing about having flying eyes? Triangulation.

"Nice." Steph grins appreciatively. "Those things are somewhat less entertaining after two weeks of them."

"They were entertaining as fuck when I was a student in this classroom," Leah says. "The perfect way to distract a teacher you didn't like."

Beat.

"Don't let it happen to you."

"Oh, I keep them way too busy for that." Steph grins. "I've banned textbooks from the room. They can study the theory in their own time - I want them practicing where I can see 'em, and that means in class."

Mildly, "I would never do any of the reading for your class."

She's grinning approval though. "I like your methods, though - Oh, and I may wanna see what you've got planned for Second Years. They're doing the War in History, and there's a ton of potential overlap."

Steph grins at her, cheerful. "I'll start assessing their theory homework next month. First month I just want to make sure I know where they're all at on their feet, you know?

"I still can't believe the War is history to these kids. It's not like I was even that old during it, but it still feels like it was last year."

"Before my time," Leah says mildly. "I had my own share of problems in the Muggle world to deal with."

Steph looks thoughtful. "I've never spent that much time in the Muggle world. Is it all that much different?"

Well, she's been undercover there. But that was different.

Leah scratches the back of her head. "Well, you don't really notice Wizarding Wars, there. Not if you're a kid with a life or your own to worry about."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Steph nods, thoughtful. "We were in England for most of the last year of the War - not the best idea my parents ever had, really."

"Well, parents can be morons," Leah says lightly.

She doesn't know from experience. She's talking about Sokka and Jo's parents.

Stephanie's smile is small and bitter, briefly.

"You're telling me."