"Come on, Regina. You have to give me something," Daniel pleads as he scurries after her.

Regina continues down the stairs, rolling her eyes at his desperation. "I offered to help you last night, but you said you didn't have time to study. Something more important come up?"

She doesn't have to turn around to know he's grinning sheepishly.

"Well, Robin found some old quidditch bludgers in the shed and we were trying to transfigure them into attack toads to put in Grump's office and-"

Regina raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "That doesn't have anything to do with Potions, does it?"

Daniel smirks and lets out an exasperated sigh. "We didn't succeed, if it makes you feel any better."

"Make me feel better? I'm not the one about to fail out of Potions right before the OWLs. And I'm not the one who wasted valuable study time on a prank that didn't even work," Regina admonishes. "You should be the one who doesn't feel better."

"Well, I certainly don't feel better considering my best friend in this world and all the worlds yet to be discovered won't help me at least have a decent shot at passing the Potions exam this afternoon."

Regina rolls her eyes. "I offered to help and you-"

"Regina," Daniel interrupts, reaching out and touching her elbow. Regina's skin tingles at the contact. "Please. I'm desperate. I'm an idiot and foolish, but I am begging you, please. I can't fail this exam. I'll flunk out of Hogwarts if I do."

Against her better judgement, Regina's resolve starts to dwindle and then crumbles completely when his thumb begins to swirl circles on the skin of her arm. She exhales harshly, at least managing to maintain an air of annoyance, and reaches into her bag. "Here," she says, handing over her Potions textbook. "I already studied, and my notes are in the back. I don't know how much good they'll do you since the exam is in… two hours, but you're welcome to try."

Daniel's smile explodes brightly as he takes the book. "You're the best," he says, ducking in and kissing her cheek. Regina's heart stops and then surges. "I owe you one." He turns and starts running back up the stairs, no doubt looking for Robin so they can both benefit from her goodwill.

"I'll just add that to your tab!" Regina calls after him.

"You know I'll pay you back eventually!" he shouts back, already disappearing around the corner.

Regina laughs quietly to herself and shakes her head. Her cheek is burning from where he kissed her and she is foolish. So foolish to go weak at the knees from a hand on her arm and a completely innocent peck on the cheek. She shakes her head and adjusts her bag on her shoulder. She has a Potions exam in two hours. She needs to focus. But as she continues down the stairs, her cheek still burns and her knees aren't as steady as they were five minutes ago.


Professor Emma Swan is not tidy. At least, not by Regina's standards. In Regina's classroom, everything has a place and a label and Dumbledore help her if there is one speck of dust on anything. Emma's classroom… not so much. An 'organized mess' is what Emma has taken to calling it, but to Regina, it's still, well, a mess. She's offered her help, on numerous occasions, to at least sort through all the clutter, but Emma turns her down every time. Unfortunate for Regina, really, since whenever she goes into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, she starts to itch.

Today would be no different.

First years are, evidently, even less tidy than Professor Swan (which is a feat in and of itself). Whatever they were doing in class today- and Dumbledore knows what they were doing in class today- has made the room look as if a tornado swept through it. Or more accurately, a hurricane.

"What in Dumbledore's name happened here?" Regina asks, stepping over one of many puddles littering the floor. Water seems to be dripping from pretty much everywhere.

Emma pops up from behind her desk, blonde hair wet and dripping. She blows out an exasperated breath and shrugs off her damp robes, tossing them carelessly on the chair behind her. She's left in jeans and a black tank- a tad inappropriate for school in Regina's opinion, but it's very Emma.

"First years," she explains, bending over at the waist and then flipping back up, getting her wet hair off her face and neck. "You know that grindylow I have in a tank?"

"Uh… sure?"

"Yeah, well, I brought it out to show them, just to show them, we weren't even going to be doing anything with it, and one of your Gryffindors- muggleborn, I'm guessing- had a full on panic attack. Screaming and throwing random spells everywhere, one of which managed to hit the tank at just the right spot and send water all over my classroom, in case you hadn't noticed the flood." Emma shakes her head as she pulls her wand out of her discarded robes. "Honestly, I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave."

"What happened to all your students?"

"I told them to get the fuck out so I can clean this up."

"I take it you didn't say it that way?"

"Some credit, Mills. Give it to me. I'm not completely unprofessional."

Regina smiles even as she rolls her eyes. "What happened to the grindylow?"

Emma shrugs. "Got out before I could wrangle it. I had no idea those things could flop around that fast out of water. So if you see a grindylow mucking about, it's mine."

"Noted," Regina says, gathering her robes in her hand as she steps over another puddle. "Do you want some help cleaning this up?"

"Nah, I got it," Emma replies, holding up her wand and her free hand. She slowly turns about the room as white magic ripples from her wand, evaporating every drop of water from every surface and returning things to their rightful- cluttered- places.

"You couldn't have organized some things in the meantime?" Regina sighs, closing the remaining distance between her and Emma's desk.

"Why would I do that when I know where everything is?" Emma answers, tucking her wand into the back pocket of her jeans. She picks up her newly dried robes and tugs them back on, evidently unbothered by the wrinkles at the hem. Emma is much more showy in her Gryffindor pride than Regina, often donning robes of vibrant red and gold in various patterns and designs. Today, she's sporting solid crimson with a wide gold band around the edges and a medallion of the Gryffindor lion. A comment about Santa Claus is on the tip of Regina's tongue, but she holds it back.

"Right," Regina says. "So since you have this under control now, do you need me to stay or-?"

Emma reaches for a stack of papers on her desk. "Could you stay for a minute? Have a seat."

"I'm fine standing, thanks."

Emma nods absently as her eyes flick back and forth over the paper on the top of the stack. Whatever it says is apparently exasperating because she rolls her eyes and flips it face down on her desk. "Right. So. How terribly attached are you to your Potions position?"

Regina furrows her brow. "Why?" she asks suspiciously.

Emma is silent for a moment longer as she reads another paper and, finding that one just as annoying, flips it over with a huff. She then pushes the entire stack back where it came from with an irritated frown. Whatever is so frustrating can apparently wait. She adjusts her robes and then finally looks up at Regina. "I'm leaving Hogwarts," she says.

Regina blinks. "What? Why?"

"I've been offered a position at the Ministry," Emma explains. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement." She grins. "They want me to be an Auror."

Regina raises her eyebrows. It's unsurprising, really. Emma had been a standout in DADA ever since her first years as a student at Hogwarts, and she had been incredible in the fight against You Know Who way back when, even if she was pretty young at the time. Working for the Ministry had always seemed inevitable for someone of her stature, but Regina has to admit, her presence at Hogwarts has been invaluable.

"Wow, Emma. That's… that's amazing," she says. "Congratulations."

Emma smiles. "Thanks. I'm really excited about it. I just wish the timing had been better so I wouldn't have to leave after the school year already started."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's going to throw a wrench in things for a bit," Regina agrees. "Does Merlin have an idea of who is going to fill in for you?"

Emma's smile widens. "You are."

Regina's eyebrows soar. "You expect me to fill in for you on top of my own classes?"

Emma shakes her head. "No, stupid. I don't want you to fill in for me. I want you to replace me."

Regina laughs. Scoffs more like it, teetering on the edge of disbelief and incredulity. "What?" she says, searching Emma's face for any sign of insincerity and finding none. Fuck. She's serious. "You must be joking," Regina insists.

Emma shakes her head. "Nope," she replies, popping the 'p' sound. "I want you to be the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Regina opens her mouth, but no sound comes out, words evaporating as her mind reels. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, her brain shouts. And it is a bad idea. She is the least qualified person in this entire school to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. She knows that. Gold knows that. Merlin knows that, doesn't he? He knows what she's done, what sins she's committed that are unforgivable. It's almost comical in its absurdity- Regina Mills teaching DADA.

"Emma… I'm not… I'm not qualified for this position," she finally says, shaking her head slowly.

Emma makes a face. "What you talking about? Of course you are! You're probably the most qualified person in this entire school."

Regina shakes her head again. "No, I'm really not."

"Regina, who better to teach DADA than someone who's actually faced the dark arts head-on and won?" Emma argues.

"Lots of other professors have done that. Mary Margaret and David, Ruby-"

"But they're not you," Emma insists. "And you have more experience in this field than anybody."

"Yeah, partaking in the Dark Arts," Regina snaps. "Not defending against them."

"Does that matter?"

"Of course it does!"

Emma sighs and looks away for a moment. "Merlin thinks you're the best choice," she says, looking back up.

Regina's heart skips a beat. "He… does?"

Emma nods. "Yeah. When I suggested you, he said you'd be the perfect fit." She half-smiles. "I'm not the only one who knows what you can do."

Regina chews the inside of her cheek. As much as she hates to admit it, the thought of being the DADA professor does give her a slight thrill. It's one of the more prestigious posts at Hogwarts, but then again, so is Potions. And Potions is safe. Potions she knows, she's comfortable there. With Potions, she won't be a hypocrite every time she walks into her classroom.

"Look, I know why you'd be hesitant to accept," Emma says after a long minute. "You don't have to give me an answer right now. I'm not leaving for another two weeks. Just promise me you'll think about it, okay?"

Regina blows out a breath and nods. "Yeah, I can do that. I'll… I'll let you know."

Emma smiles. "Thanks, Mills." She plops down in her chair then and reaches for the stack of irritating papers. "So. Do you know how we managed to bag Robin Locksley as our quidditch master?"

"Uh… Merlin probably asked him?"

Emma makes a face at her before she rolls her eyes in realization. "Oh, that's right. You don't follow quidditch."

"Yes, I do," Regina protests.

"Hogwarts quidditch doesn't count," Emma returns. "Honestly, Mills, you're the only witch on the planet who isn't into quidditch."

"Quidditch should be a hobby, not a profession."

"Yeah, whatever," Emma dismisses. "My point, for those of us who are not quidditch fans, is that for the past six years, Robin Locksley has been the star chaser for the Heidelberg Harriers. He holds the record for most quaffle steals in one match."

So that's what he's been doing with his life. "He was the star of the Gryffindor team, too," Regina says.

"Yeah, well, the Germans love him and the Irish hate him because he's the reason they didn't qualify for the World Cup two years ago. But a lot of folks around here follow him because, well, because he's from around here." Emma tilts her head. "You really didn't know this?"

"I have better things to do with my time than watch grown witches and wizards chase each other around on broomsticks for millions of galleons," Regina says.

"Clearly, you're the only one," Emma returns. "Continuing my point, I don't understand why he'd leave such a good quidditch gig to come teach first years how to fly a broomstick."

Regina shrugs. "Maybe he wanted a change of pace."

Emma gives her an unimpressed look. "Yeah, because I'd want to give up a million-galleon paycheck for a 'change of pace.'"

Regina rolls her eyes and glances at the clock on the wall. "Right. Well, as much as I'd like to keep listening to you whine, I have a class soon, so I need to get going."

Emma waves her off. "Of course, of course. I didn't mean to keep you. I hope your first class goes better than mine did."

Regina says she hopes it does too and turns to make her exit, but then Emma ruins everything when she calls, "Don't forget to think about it, Mills!" Regina's stomach rolls all the way back to her classroom.


Professor Kathryn Midas is tidy. Or at least, Robin assumes she's tidy based on the state of the quidditch storage shed. Everything in it's place with labels and bins and a color code that looks much too intricate and complicated. Robin himself has never been particularly neat- something that drove Marian crazy back in the day- so he supposes it's a good thing that he's succeeding someone who already has their shit together. Easier for him to go through and find stuff and, hopefully, keep things organized as he uses them (but in all reality, he knows by Christmas, this place will be a wreck. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts).

Alright, so quaffles are here, newer ones on top, and spare brooms are… evidently bundled and labeled by House, and where are the bludgers? Chained down in a trunk- good. Don't need a spare one of those getting loose.

Regina was always organized. Her books and quills and parchment were never misplaced, always easy to find, and how bizarre it is, to think of Regina, now, after all this time. Over a decade it's been. Eleven years, she said. Has he really been away that long? It feels like a lifetime ago and just yesterday all at once that they were burying Daniel and Tink, mourning their deaths while simultaneously rejoicing over the defeat of You Know Who. That was the last time he had seen Regina and she had been so… empty back then. She seems better now, being back at Hogwarts, it's always where she said she belonged.

He belonged here too, once. A lifetime ago. And now, he belongs here again, he supposes. Even if it feels wrong walking the halls without Daniel at his side. A Hogwarts without Daniel- or Will, for that matter- just feels unnatural. But Daniel is dead and Will is a traitor and Regina is here. Amazingly, after all this time, she's here and-

Oi, the snitches, where the bloody hell are those? Can't play quidditch without- ah, they're in individual cases, stacked and color coded and labeled: match-ready or P.E. use only. Of course.

And Daniel's boy, Henry, he's here too. A second year, already. Dumbledore, the time's gotten away from him. Wasn't it just last week he was holding Henry as Daniel tried to convince Tink it'd be a good idea to get Henry his own little broom? Start him young, Daniel had reasoned. Avoid broken bones before the age of two, Tink had argued. Tink won that one.

Hogwarts will be good for Henry, that much Robin is sure of. Get him away from Tink's awful muggle family. Dumbledore knows why Merlin saw it fit to leave him with them. Robin had offered to raise the lad himself, but Merlin said it would be best for him to grow up away from the fame and pressure and expectations that are now attached to his name. Regina had disagreed with Merlin back then and Robin had been inclined to agree with her. Regina was usually right when it came to things like that-

"Professor Locksley?"

Oh, that's weird. Hearing someone address him in such a way. He'll definitely need some time to get used to that.

"Yes?" Robin answers, turning around to face the person standing in the doorway of the shed.

A tall boy with dark hair and a serious expression holds out his hand. "Eric Fisher, sir. Captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team," he says.

Robin reaches out and shakes Eric's hand, noticing that he does indeed have blue lining his school robes. "Yes, Mr. Fisher, what can I do for you?"

"Sir, I just wanted to ask you about the quidditch practice schedule," Eric says. "Over the summer, Professor Midas had arranged for teams to reserve practice times for this semester, but I wasn't sure if you were going to stick to that schedule or if you were going to handle practice differently."

"Uh…" Robin stammers. Practice times hadn't even crossed his mind yet, to be quite honest. Anything beyond this shed hasn't crossed his mind yet, to be completely honest, but apparently he needs to get on top of his shit. Once he finds out what all that shit is, of course.

"Right," he finally says. "I haven't really gotten to look over the practice schedule, but, uh, you said you already arranged with Professor Midas when you want to practice?"

Eric nods. "Yes, sir. At least, I did. I can't speak for the other teams."

Ravenclaws, Robin thinks with a chuckle. Always ahead of the game. "Alright, well for now, let's just go with what you and Professor Midas decided ahead of time. If I see something that I'd like to change, I'll let you know."

Eric nods. "Okay, thank you, sir. If you need any help with anything, just let me know. I'm more than happy to assist."

Robin exhales as he glances around the shed at all the supplies he's yet to go through. "Thank you, Mr. Fisher. I just might take you up on that offer."

Eric nods and says he hopes they have a great season together, then takes his leave.

Robin waits a moment and then pulls out his wand, magicking up a small bit of parchment and a quill. He scribbles down 'find practice schedule' and 'check office' and adds 'meet captains' at the last second. He's shoving the paper into his robes pocket just as a small knock gets his attention.

"Professor Locksley?" a petite blonde girl asks from the shed doorway.

"Yes?" Robin replies, looking up.

The girl smiles politely and gives a short nod. "My name is Ella Cinders. I'm the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team. I was looking for you and I just ran into Eric and he said I could find you here."

"Yes, I just spoke with him," Robin says. "What can I do for you, Miss Cinders?"

"The practice schedule, sir. I was wondering when we would find out what times we have the pitch reserved."

Robin nods with a smile. "Yes, Mr. Fisher was wondering the same thing. He said you arranged times with Professor Midas at the end of last term?"

Ella nods. "Yes, sir. Although, if possible, I'd like to change the times I originally selected."

"Why's that?"

"I added another class over the summer and Magical Theory only meets in the late afternoon which is when I had hoped to practice initially. Do you think it would be possible for me to switch to the evenings instead?"

Robin pulls the scrap of parchment out of his pocket and scribbles down another reminder. "Well, I haven't found the practice schedule yet, but when I do, I'll check to see if that's doable and I'll let you know. Alright?"

Ella nods and smiles again. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it." She turns to go, but stops and looks back, smiling shier than before. "By the way, sir, I just wanted to let you know that I'm a big fan of yours. I've cheered for the Harriors since I was four years old and you're one of my favorite players."

Robin chuckles. "Well, I'm honored, thank you. I look forward to cheering for your team this season."

That was apparently the best thing he could have said because Ella's smile grows so wide it threatens to break her face. "Thank you, sir," she says, barely containing her excitement. "I- I look forward to working with you."

She turns to leave again, but crashes into the chest of another student- a lanky boy with brown hair who frowns the moment he looks down at Ella. The lining of his school robes is green. "Cinders," he grumbles, taking a step to put space between them.

"Piedmont," she returns, irritated.

"Might want to watch where you're going," the boy says. "Don't want you getting hurt. It wouldn't do to have Hufflepuff lose it's one good player."

Ella scowls. "We'll let the points do the talking, Piedmont," she snaps. She looks back at Robin and musters a smile, albeit one less bright than before. "I'll see you later, Professor Locksley."

Robin nods as she leaves and then turns his attention to the boy who holds out his hand.

"Peter Piedmont, professor," he says with an air of… something that rubs Robin the wrong way. "I'm the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team."

Robin reaches out and shakes his hand, eyeing him with cautious curiosity. "I take it you're here about the practice schedule?"

"Yes, professor. More specifically, I'm here to request that Slytherin's practice times remain as they are. Our strength and conditioning coach can only be here at the times we reserved."

"Uh, strength and conditioning coach?" Robin repeats. He never had anything so elaborate when he played at Hogwarts.

"Yes, professor. We won the quidditch cup last year and we wish to maintain our dominant performance," Peter explains, smug smirk coming to his lips.

"I see," Robin says slowly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the parchment again. "And when, exactly, were you originally scheduled to practice?"

"The evenings."

Robin stops writing for a split second. "The evenings, huh?" he repeats, scrawling down the rest of his note.

"Correct, professor."

Robin nods and tucks the parchment away. "Right. Well, I'll look over the schedule and let you know what I decide."

A flicker of something- irritation, or anger maybe- flashes across Peter's face, but then he smiles smoothly and whatever it was is gone. "Of course, professor, thank you." He holds out his hand again. "I look forward to working with you this season."

Robin shakes his hand and nods shortly. "Likewise."

Slytherins, Robin thinks with a sigh as Peter leaves. Personally, he's never gotten along with too many of them. It's nothing against the House as a whole, but Robin just… clashes with the personalities typically found wearing the green and silver. There's only one Slytherin that he's ever really cared for and she's-

"Professor Locksley?"

Robin resists the urge to groan. Do all the quidditch captains have class breaks at the same time? He just needs a hour to go through the shed and then he can find the bloody practice schedule and answer all their questions. Robin takes a short breath and turns toward the door, forcing a smile as, presumably, the Gryffindor quidditch captain steps into the doorway.

"Yes?" Robin says.

"Merida Dunbroch, sir," the girl introduces, reaching out and shaking Robin's hand heartily. "Captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team."

"Yes, I figured," Robin replies. "You're the fourth one to find me in the last fifteen minutes."

Merida laughs. "Giving you a hard time already, huh? Better get used to it- quidditch is taken real seriously here."

"Yes, I know. It was like that back when I played too."

Merida snaps her fingers. "Hey, that's right, isn't it? You played for Gryffindor. Professor Nolan said you were the star of the team."

Robin chuckles. "Well, I don't know about that, but the team was very good back in the day. We won the cup a few times if I remember correctly."

Merida nods. "Yeah, like three times in a row. We're gonna win it this year. I can feel it."

"Oh yeah? You have some good players, then?"

"Some of the best. I'm a Chaser myself, but we have Philip Morris as our Keeper and he holds the school record for most saves in one game. And Kristoff Rein is one of our Beaters. I don't know if you've met him yet, but when you do, you'll see- he just has that Beater quality about him. And Henry Colter is our Seeker. Youngest quidditch player at the school in a century and-"

"Henry Colter, you said?" Robin interrupts.

Merida nods. "Yesir. Got us ranked second in the tournament last year. Rotten luck in the semifinal match, though. We were up against Ravenclaw and they're so strategic, ya know, and I'm more of 'plan as you go' type of player, so-"

Robin nods absently as Merida talks. Daniel had been a Seeker. The two of them and Will and Tink, they had all played for Gryffindor together. Won three cups in their time on the team. Daniel could have played professionally, if he wanted, if he hadn't wanted to be an Auror so badly, if You Know Who hadn't destroyed everything. It only makes sense, Robin supposes, that his son would be an excellent player as well.

Merida stopped talking at some point and Robin can't remember what exactly was the last thing she said, so he goes with, "I'm sure your team will perform spectacularly this season. Um, I take it you're wondering about the practice schedule?"

Merida tilts her head. "Oh yeah. I guess I should find out about that, huh?"

"That's… not why you're here?"

She shakes her head. "No, I just wanted to meet you, to be honest." She laughs. "I don't support the Harriers, but you gave Ireland a real good whomping two years ago and I hate the Irish, so you've always been a good guy in my books."

Robin chuckles. "I'll remember that. I don't think too many people around here think the same, since the Irish have a big following in these parts."

Merida shrugs. "I follow the Wigtown Wanderers, and they're playing right crummy these days, so I'll take what I can get."

"Yeah, Wigtown has been struggling a bit, haven't they?"

"Oh, don't get me started. Did you catch the match last week? I've never seen such sloppy chasing in my life. You'd think with the coaching change that-"

The sound of bells chiming in the distance cuts her off and Merida glances behind her, out of the shed. "Oh, shoot, it's eleven, isn't it? I have class in ten minutes." She turns back around. "I gotta go, but it was nice meeting you, professor! I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."

"Yes, of course. Uh, Miss Dunbroch?" Robin says, catching Merida in her hurry to leave.

"Yes, sir?" she answers, turning back around halfway.

"The practice schedule," Robin explains. "I haven't gotten to it yet, but when I do, I'll be sure to let you know your times."

Merida smiles. "Great. I'll let Professor Mills know."

Robin blinks. "Professor Mills?"

Merida nods. "Yeah, she likes to know when we practice. She comes to watch sometimes."

"Why… why would she do that?"

"Most of the Heads of House watch their teams practice from time to time," Merida explains with a shrug. "They like to make sure everything is going smoothly."

Heads of House? Regina… Head of House? Head of Gryffindor? That… that can't be right. That would mean… but that's impossible, she's not… she isn't… she was…

Merida's giving him a funny look and so Robin shakes his head, composes himself, and says goodbye, urging her to hurry up if she wants to make her class on time. When he's alone again, Robin looks around the shed. Going through everything suddenly seems much less important than it did twenty minutes ago.

Regina, Head of Gryffindor? That can't be right. Unless there's another Professor Mills he doesn't know about. Because the one he knows has been in Slytherin since her first day at Hogwarts.

Robin shakes his head again and steps out of the shed, locking the doors behind him. The bloody practice schedule can wait. He needs to find Regina.


"Mr. Booth, set Mr. Darling down at once!" Regina shouts across the courtyard, marching over to where her seventh year is levitating the poor Slytherin second year upside down.

"But he said he wanted to fly, professor," Jefferson argues, setting John down regardless. The Slytherin scurries away, robes askew. "I was just giving him a hand."

Regina glares at him disapprovingly, eyebrows arched. "Flying is for owls and brooms, Mr. Booth. And you know better than to use magic on other students. That will be five points from Gryffindor."

Jefferson makes a sound of protest, but Regina shuts him down.

"Yes, from my own House, Mr. Booth. And how shameful that my own students need disciplined in such a way. I take it you'll refrain from bringing shame to our House in the future."

"Yes, Professor Mills," Jefferson grumbles.

"Good. Now get going. I do believe you have Charms in five minutes."

Mr. Booth nods reluctantly and gathers his books, trudging off in the direction of David's classroom.

Regina sighs and shakes her head. Dumbledore knows why she got stuck with one of the Booth brothers. At least she doesn't have both. She and Professor French have the honor of sharing that burden.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Regina turns at the sound of Robin's voice, ignoring the quickening of her pulse. She doesn't want to talk to him. She doesn't want to see him, to be quite honest, but they're co-workers now and she promised they'd catch up and at least she has class soon. She'll have an excuse to stop talking to him.

"I believe you have been on my bad side," she says, managing a smile. "Many times, actually."

Robin chuckles as he crosses the courtyard. "Yeah, Dan and I seemed to be on your bad side more than we were on your good."

"And whose fault was that?" Regina returns.

"Dan's. Completely," Robin answers, smile in full force as he comes to stand in front of her.

His smile is infectious and Regina finds hers growing despite herself. It's been eleven years since she's seen that smile and who would have known that it could still raise her spirits like it did back then? Of course, Daniel usually had the monopoly on making her laugh, but Robin knew how to get a grin out of her too.

"Have you gotten settled in?" Regina asks, tamping down her smile. It wouldn't do to have her students see her grinning easily. She has an intimidating reputation to uphold, after all.

"Uh, to be quite honest, no," Robin answers. "I mean, my stuff is in my chambers, but nothing's unpacked yet. And I was trying to go through the quidditch shed, but I kept being interrupted."

"By who?" Regina asks, starting to walk towards her classroom, slowing until Robin begins to follow. She doesn't want to talk to him, but she does have class soon and maybe he'll get the hint and leave her alone.

"The House captains," Robin answers. "They're all in a tizzy about the practice schedule. I haven't even seen the schedule yet, so I couldn't really give them straight answers." He pauses for a second. "I met your captain. Merida."

Regina's lungs stop for a second. "You did?" she comments neutrally, hoping her voice doesn't give away the sudden shaking of her heart.

"Yeah," Robin says with a nod. "She's… not what I was expecting."

And of course she's not. Because Robin knows. Robin was there for everything. He's seen who Regina really is. He can see straight through this lie she and Merlin have fabricated. He knows she's not a Gryffindor, she never was and isn't now, regardless of what Merlin and the Sorting Hat say. She's a fake and a hypocrite and he knows the truth and he probably hates her for it. Hates her for being a fake Gryffindor while Daniel- who was a lion through and through- is dead and she's mocking his memory by being in his House, a place she never belonged, a place she doesn't belong, but here she is, the fucking Head of House, and Robin probably hates her-

"Her… colors weren't what I was expecting," Robin amends. "But… they suit you." He turns his head to look at her and Regina looks up in surprise.

"They… do?" she asks.

Robin nods and quirks a grin. "Oh, yeah. They really bring out your eyes."

Regina stares at him for a split second before she realizes he's joking. She breathes out a laugh, too on edge to manage much else.

"I'm kidding," Robin says. "But I was surprised. I didn't know you could be Head of a House you don't belong to."

Regina licks her lips. "I… am a Gryffindor," she explains slowly. "Merlin re-Sorted me."

Robin's eyebrows shoot up. "He did? I didn't know you could do that, either."

Regina laughs shortly, humorlessly. "Neither did I. But you know Merlin. Always doing stuff outside of the box."

Robins nods and thank Dumbledore, they're at her classroom.

"Huh. Regina Mills, Gryffindor," he says, as if to test out the words on his tongue. "I like it. And I can see it."

Regina looks up as they stop in front of her room. "You can?"

Robin nods. "Yeah. It makes sense to me."

Regina's face goes incredulous before she can stop it. "It does?" she asks.

Robin huffs a laugh as if he can't believe she doesn't believe him. And she doesn't. Why would she believe him? She doesn't even believe herself.

"Of course it does," Robin insists. "The Sorting Hat said so, Merlin clearly thinks so, and like I said, it suits you." He touches her arm lightly. "You never really fit into Slytherin, anyway."

Well, that's a lie. That's a blatant lie and they both know it. She is a Slytherin. She'll always be a Slytherin. And how ironic that years ago, she would have given wand and soul to be a Gryffindor and now here she stands in robes that shimmer red, with a lion crest hanging on the door to her office, and all she wants is to shrink back into the green and silver that shaded her childhood. She's a snake in lion's clothing. No amount of false courage or red robes can change that.

The bells chime from the clock tower in the distance. The bottom of the hour. Regina inhales and glances in toward her classroom. "Um, I- I have to get ready for class," she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Of course," Robin replies. "Would you mind… can I walk you to your classroom?"

Regina nods her head toward her room. "Already here," she answers.

Robin turns his head and takes in the Potions classroom for the first time. "I thought Potions was taught in the dungeons?"

"It was, when Gold taught it. But when I took over, I asked to be moved to the main level." She suppresses a shudder. "I hated going down there."

"But you were down there all the time," Robin points out.

"Yeah, for the Potions room and because my common room was down there. But I hated going through the dungeons." She gives him a look. "Partly because I had no idea what gross things you and Daniel had planted down there to prank poor unsuspecting Slytherins."

"Oh, so it's my fault?" Robin laughs.

"Most things are," Regina returns.

Robin shakes his head, still chuckling. "I'll remember that," he says, then gestures in toward her room. "I'll let you get to class."

Regina nods, half-smiling, and takes a few steps into her room, only to stop again when Robin says her name. "Yes?" she answers, turning back around.

He looks sheepish all of a sudden, like the schoolboy he was over a decade ago. "The red," he says, holding out a hand and gesturing toward her robes. "It does bring out your eyes."

Regina blinks, speechless, as chatter and white noise suddenly grow in the hallway. Classes are letting out which means hers will be starting soon and she needs to get it together. Get it together, Mills. Groups of students start passing by her doorway and Robin looks out into the hallway for a split second, long enough for Regina to take a deep breath and reset her composure. When he looks back, it's to give her a smile and a wave goodbye and then he's gone, disappearing into the growing throng of students.

Regina closes her eyes and shakes her head once. Right. Class. Need to do that. She exhales and turns to walk toward her desk, obstinately ignoring the old feeling of warmth that has suddenly spread through her chest.


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