Wednesday 2 September, 1992:

"Do you know if it's possible to Avada Kedavra yourself?" Maggie whispered to Lena. "Because if so, I'm seriously considering the possibility of doing it right now."

"Why put yourself through all that trouble when you could just use it on him?" muttered Lena, watching Gilderoy Lockhart in disgust as he stood at the front of the classroom, teaching.

Well, 'teaching' was a very loose – and generous – definition of it.

"Seriously, this is the guy who's supposed to be taking us to our NEWTs?" hissed Maggie.

At this, Lena snorted and turned to Maggie. "Yeah, because it's not like you were just going to rely on me to get you through the next two years anyway," she said pointedly. "What was it again I got you for your OWL, an E?"

"Shut up, you know you're that nerd that actually enjoys helping people do homework."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Girls!"

At the sound of Lockhart's voice, Lena and Maggie both turned to the front, where their new professor was standing with his hands on his hips, and patronisingly shaking his head at them.

"Girls," repeated Lockhart, "surely you're old enough to know that you should be paying attention in class, not chatting to each other!"

Lena knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't resist the temptation to screw with Lockhart. "I didn't realise there was anything to pay attention to," she said bluntly.

Lena's Sixth Year Defence Against the Dark Arts class was a combination of Slytherin and Ravenclaw students. So while the faces of the Slytherin students immediately lit up at the sound of her antagonising the new teacher, the Ravenclaws looked shocked, having never been witnesses to such exchanges before.

Lockhart appeared momentarily taken aback, but his broad smile immediately returned to his face. "On the contrary, I've been relating to the class a most informative tale about a vampire I encountered in Moldova. I think you'd find it more enlightening than whatever you were chatting about, Miss...?" He looked at her expectantly.

She gave him her most predatory smile. "Lestrange."

There was something quite satisfying about the way Lockhart blanched upon hearing her surname.

"I, I see," he said, recovering. "Well–"

"And we actually were talking about something relating to Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Lockhart raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Oh? And what was that, then?"

This time, Lena didn't smile. Instead, she fixed Lockhart with her iciest stare. "The Killing Curse."

A Ravenclaw girl actually let out a small shriek at this, and the rest of her housemates looked either frightened or sickened. Out of the corner of her eye, Lena could see that Maggie, trying to hold it together, had begun to convulse with silent laughter.

The majority of the Slytherin boys were eagerly looking between a visibly paled Lockhart and Lena. The only other two Slytherin girls in the class, Gemma Farley and Nicole Bletchley, appeared somewhere between amused and wary.

Lockhart nervously coughed. "I'm afraid we aren't looking at the Unforgivable Curses at this time, Miss..." He hesitated before he said her name. "Lestrange. So, perhaps we should return–"

But Lena, not ready to give up on what seemed to be a promising form of entertainment, interrupted him. "Have you ever used one?"

She heard some sharp intakes of breath from the Ravenclaws, and some mutters, no doubt about how Lena Lestrange was clearly as deranged an individual as everyone said.

Lockhart pulled at his collar, frowning. Evidently, this class wasn't going to plan. "I, uh – that is to say–"

Leaning forward on her elbows, Lena pressed on. "The thing about Unforgivable Curses is that you really need to mean them," she said softly, aware that the rest of the class was hanging onto every word she said. "You need to feel them." She dropped her voice even lower, and actually saw Marcus Flint (who somehow had managed to pass his OWL exams, to Lena's surprise) lean in towards her. "The power rushes through you, see. It courses through your veins. And then," she continued, her voice now barely more than a whisper, "you have the power to control, to hurt... to kill. And after you've done it once... it gets easier every time."

The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Then Lena leaned back in her chair, and her voice returned to normal. "At least, that's what I've heard people say." She smiled brightly around the room.

Maggie, unable to hold back any longer, ducked down behind her desk, attempting to muffle her hysterical laughter in the crook of her arm.

Ignoring her, Lena continued to smile dazzlingly at a clearly freaked-out Lockhart. "But we're getting off topic, aren't we, sir?" she emphasised mockingly. "You had some absolutely fascinating stuff to tell us about vampires, didn't you, sir?"

Lockhart looked at her blankly for a moment, as if he had forgotten why he was there. "Er..." He blinked and shook his head slightly, he senses apparently returning. "Uh, yes. Well. So, vampires. In Moldova. Yes." He launched back into his story, but it was clear that he no longer held the class's attention, as students turned to each other and started whispering.

Lena looked around the classroom, and noted with mild interest that it was impossible to tell that just three months ago the class had been destroyed to the point of looking like a war-zone. She was actually quite impressed with the job she'd done repairing everything.

She checked the time, and sighed. They still had almost forty minutes of class left.

"This is intolerable," she complained to Maggie, who also glanced at the clock on the classroom wall.

"How are we supposed to stand an entire year of this, let alone another forty minutes?" she whispered back.

Lena fixed her teacher with a look of distaste. Lockhart noticed this, and stumbled over his words before very perceptibly looking away.

But Lena continued to stare at him venomously. "You know how the Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position is supposed to be cursed?" she muttered.

Maggie looked at her curiously. "Yeah?"

Not taking her eyes off Lockhart, Lena smirked. "I'm beginning to think that the curse might just have to come into effect a little bit earlier than usual."

There were few things in the world that Lena hated as much as an incompetent teacher.

"He's that bad?" asked Rolf later that day as the three of them exited the Entrance Hall, walking down to their Care of Magical Creatures class.

"I'm pretty sure he spent at least ten minutes talking about how substandard mass-produced hair-care products for wizards are," said Maggie. "At least you got the idea that Quirrell generally knew what he was talking about – even if he couldn't string a complete sentence together without stuttering."

Although Lena carefully kept her face a mask of neutrality, the mention of Quirrell made her want to hit something very hard.

Rolf, meanwhile, was grimacing. "I haven't got him until tomorrow. Reckon there's any chance the curse could finish him off before then?"

Maggie snorted. "It will if Lena gets her way."

Instead of being amused, Rolf gave Lena a concerned look, which she picked up on.

"What's the matter?" asked Lena.

"Well," began Rolf, "it's just– oomph!"

He had collided with a small Ravenclaw girl, who was knocked flat on her backside. She gazed up at Rolf with wide, protuberant, silvery eyes.

"Oh Merlin, sorry!" apologised Rolf hurriedly, extending an arm down. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

The girl, who Lena guessed was a First Year, took the proffered hand, and Rolf pulled her up.

"It's quite all right," she said. "Neither was I." She smiled vaguely at Rolf, then side-stepped around him, and continued on her way.

Lena, Rolf and Maggie watched the retreating figure of the girl.

"Were those radish earrings she was wearing?" asked Maggie, amused.

"Yep," confirmed Lena.

"Maybe it's a new trend," suggested Rolf.

Lena snickered. "I don't think that was the sort of girl who follows the latest fashion trends. Anyway, what were you going to say, Rolf?"

"What? Oh," remembered Rolf as they resumed walking, "I was just wondering if you'd ever considered solving a problem without, you know, resorting to threats or violent measures?"

She knew that Rolf had spoken without malice. But that didn't stop his words feeling like a punch in her gut. So Lena did what she always did when she was hurt – she lashed out.

"Yeah, I have," replied Lena quietly, without looking at him. "Of course, that was only once I actually found out it was an option. But thanks for reminding me that normal, decent human responses don't come naturally to me, Rolf." Her voice was colder than she'd intended, but she found that at that moment, she didn't really care. "Thanks a fucking bunch."

She saw Rolf and Maggie's shocked expressions out of the corner of her eye, but ignored them. Before they could say anything, she sped up her pace and left them behind, weaving in and out of students returning to the castle from the greenhouses.

Lena was the first student to arrive at the Care of Magical Creatures class, which was meeting outside one of the greenhouses. Professor Kettleburn, the teacher, was already there, and grunted an acknowledgement to Lena. Soon, Maggie and Rolf arrived, and went to stand next to Lena without saying anything. They were quickly followed by the other five students in the class, two more Hufflepuffs and three Gryffindors. Once he was satisfied they were all present, Kettleburn set off in the direction of the Great Lake, his students in tow.

Once they arrived at the lake, Lena noticed that a section of it had been blocked off from the rest of the body of water, and into four smaller segments. In his gruff voice, Kettleburn explained to the class that they were dealing with Kelpies today, and were to divide into pairs. Each pair had to attempt to put a bridle over their Kelpie's head using a Placement Charm, in order to render it docile, and to stop it from dragging them under and trying to drown them.

"You've got one hour," finished Kettleburn. "Begin."

The two other Hufflepuff students immediately headed off to one of the segments. The three Gryffindors looked at each other, and then over at where Lena, Maggie and Rolf stood in distaste. They turned back to each other and began bickering.

Maggie gently shoved Rolf towards the Gryffindors. He scowled back at her, but meandered over to them with his hands shoved in his pockets. Maggie gave Lena a terse look, and she nodded back slightly. They wordlessly started to make their way over to their section of the lake. As they neared the shore, Maggie broke the silence.

"You going to explain why you went full-bitch mode on Rolf before, or are we just supposed to accept the fact that sometimes you go mental for no apparent reason, and let you treat us like shit just because you can?"

It was an unprecedented step for Maggie to call out Lena for her behaviour, and one that Lena had no clue how to immediately respond to.

The two girls stopped at the edge of the shore and looked out at the vast lake. The two Hufflepuffs stood not far away, discussing tactics. The other two pairs were making their ways over too, and the Gryffindor girl who'd been forced to go with Rolf looked distinctly unhappy. Rolf didn't appear thrilled about his situation either. He noticed Lena watching him, and they made eye contact for a moment before he looked away.

Sighing, Lena stared back out at the lake. A gust of wind hit, billowing her and Maggie's robes. Her hair, which she was wearing in a half-updo, was swept into her face, and she impatiently pushed it out of the way.

"I blew it way out of proportion," said Lena, glancing at Maggie, who was watching her impassively. "I'm sorry." She tried to hold back her hair as the breeze pushed at her again.

"And?"

Perplexed, Lena turned to face Maggie. "And what?"

Maggie rolled her eyes. "An apology is nice, but it's not what I asked for."

Lena folded her arms. "You want an explanation?"

Exasperated, Maggie threw up her hands. "Yes!" she cried. "Yes, I want a bloody explanation! I mean, Jesus, I don't ask for much, do I? I don't ask about your parents. I don't ask about your time abroad. I've never even fucking asked how you feel about Muggle-borns. But you don't get to be a bitch to my other best friend, and then just wave it off with a 'Sorry', and an 'I can act like that sometimes because I had a rough childhood'. It's not fucking good enough!"

The wind had drowned out Maggie's shouting to everyone but Lena, who stared back at her friend as if she'd never seen her before. She had always been proud of her ability to read people, to know how they felt. And over the years she had detected that Maggie had suffered a lot during her childhood. But guessing that, like herself, Maggie didn't want to talk about it, she never pushed the subject. It had never occurred to her that maybe her friend would... well, care.

When Lena didn't respond, Maggie turned away in disgust, looking back out to the lake. She sighed. "Whatever. So, how are we going to find this Kel–"

"You're right."

Maggie slowly turned back, surprise written all over her face. "Excuse me?" she asked in disbelief.

Lena cleared her throat, and took a step closer to Maggie. "You're right," she repeated. "It's not good enough." She pushed back her windswept hair and folded her arms tightly, as if hugging herself. "So, here's your explanation." She paused, gathering her thoughts.

"See," she began, "when you were little, you were taught to be good – or at least, what good was." Maggie opened her mouth to interrupt, but Lena pressed on. "I'm not saying you were surrounded by saints – I imagine you've come across some pretty awful people over the years – but I'm guessing that most of them would at least put on a pretence of being decent people. And I bet that when you went to school, your teachers told you to be respectful to others – 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you ', right? Be nice. Be kind. Be caring. And you were told Muggle children's stories where they extolled these virtues, and cruelty and greed were punished. A basic code of morality was practically gift-wrapped for you. And then it was your choice whether to follow it or not."

Lena paused again. The wind was beginning to die down. She noticed that all the other pairs had set to work trying to lure the Kelpie out so they could attempt the Placement Charm. Kettleburn was watching them from a distance, but appeared unconcerned that she and Maggie hadn't begun working yet. Lena looked back at Maggie, who was watching her intently, and continued.

"I spent the first six years of my life in the presence of Death Eaters. And if they weren't Death Eaters, they were the families and supporters of them. I rarely left my house, and only then to go to the homes of other Death Eaters." She smiled bitterly. "My mother... well, I'm sure you can imagine that she wasn't exactly the type to read fairy tales to her child. So instead I got stories about how Muggles were filth, and so was anyone who shared their blood. And I would hear them all talking and laughing about the times they would go out and find random Muggle families and–" Lena stopped. She swallowed hard before proceeding. "Hurting people wasn't wrong – it was entertainment. And if someone hurt you, it was up to you to stop it... and then hurt them back. Even if you were a child. You see, none of the other Death Eaters had children anywhere near my age – they were either babies or almost adults themselves. So I didn't..." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "I didn't know better. And then the War ended and my parents were arrested. My grandmother took me to Switzerland, and I met my Great Aunt Valeriya." She paused again. "And she wasn't a Death Eater. Or one of their sympathisers. But that didn't mean I finally had someone in my life who was a paragon of virtue." She shrugged. "Sure, I finally had another perspective on blood purity. And she didn't hex me, or curse me. But there was one rule she also lived by: if someone hurts you, you hurt them back. And you hurt them hard enough so they won't ever hurt you again."

Lena closed her eyes as a memory began to play in her mind. Opening them again, she began to recount the story in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "Valeriya would often take me with her when she was selling and purchasing items. At first, she didn't take me to see the really dangerous clientele. But when I was seven, she brought me along to this one deal in Carcassonne, France. I knew the moment I saw this client that this wizard was different to the others I'd met with Valeriya. He was... well, he was more like the Death Eaters. Not because he was overtly blood purist; in all honesty, I can't say what exactly it was. But I knew something was wrong the moment we met him." At this point the memory became so vivid that Lena almost shuddered. She closed her eyes again and rubbed her forehead.

"To cut a long story short, this guy wanted to buy something off Valeriya – a Dark, dangerous object. She agreed, but made him sign some kind of contract before she handed it over. The moment he got the object, the wizard tried to double-cross her, attempting to use it to kill her. But it didn't work. Instead, something began to happen to him." An image seared Lena's brain. "It was like all the moisture in his body was being drawn out of him. He started screaming, and I–" Lena bit her lip, then took a deep breath. "I tried to leave, but Valeriya stopped me. She said I needed to watch. So I did."

Now Maggie looked horrified, but Lena wasn't finished. "See, she'd put a curse on the contract. A curse that would prove fatal if the contract was broken. And because that wizard tried to kill her with the object... So I watched him die. To Valeriya, it was all an important lesson for me to learn, about not letting anyone get away with crossing you. And to always be willing to go further than your opponent, to be more ruthless than them." She looked out at the lake. "The more I've thought about it over the years, the more I think that Valeriya took me with her that day knowing what was going to happen."

She glanced over at where Rolf was arguing with his partner, and felt Maggie wordlessly move to stand beside her. Without turning to face her, Lena concluded her explanation.

"Before I came to Hogwarts, I'd never really met another child. Pretty much everybody I had interacted with in my life was an adult, and they were almost always very dangerous. So I didn't understand how to treat any of you. Everybody talked so... openly – wore their hearts on their sleeves, so to speak." She gave Maggie a sidelong glance. "Except you. You were as closed off as me. It was like you were the only other sane person in the whole school." She smiled drily as Maggie let out a small snort of amusement. "But the thing I really didn't get was how kids were supposed to respond to other kids who offended, insulted or tried to hurt them. Just taking it on the chin, or telling a teacher, even a proportionate response – none of it ever occurred to me." She ran a hand through her hair. "Even not getting my own way – if I knew I could get something, then I wouldn't take no for an answer." She stared out at the lake blankly. "Took me a while to realise that I was a bully."

She turned back to Maggie. "So Rolf asking me if I'd considered not using threats or violent measures to solve problems... I got angry because it was accurate. Because I'm trying to be better, but it's not easy to change a mindset formulated over the first eleven years of your life." She pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. "Being good doesn't come to me easily."

For a few moments, there was only silence between the two girls. Then Maggie said quietly, "I don't think you're a bully."

Lena raised an eyebrow, and smiled wryly. "I've never bullied you. Doesn't mean I haven't done some awful things to other people. And there's stuff you don't know about."

Maggie tilted her head. "Maybe. But there's stuff I've figured out. Like the fact that since our first few months at Hogwarts, I haven't been bothered by the other Slytherins for not being from a Wizarding family. And I'm not enough of an idiot to think that's got anything to do with how they feel about me," she added pointedly.

Lena didn't say anything; she simply shrugged slightly, as if to say 'so what?'.

Maggie rolled her eyes at the nonchalant response, then sighed. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For the explanation. It..." She struggled to find the appropriate words. "It was... very... illuminating."

"Glad to hear it." A thought occurred to Lena. "Merlin, you're not going to make me repeat all of that to Rolf, are you?"

"I think an abridged version would be sufficient," said Maggie, a small smirk playing on her lips. Then she took a deep breath. "But in any case," she began, looking awkward, "I just want you to know that this... kind of stuff – well, you can talk to me about it. Anytime. I'm..." she trailed off.

Lena smiled, amused. "Here for me?"

"Yeah," said Maggie, seemingly relieved she hadn't had to say the cliché out loud.

Lena bit her lip, then quietly replied, "I appreciate that. And if, you know, there's ever anything you need to... erm, get off your chest..." She left the sentence hanging.

Maggie hesitantly smiled back at her. "You've got me covered, right?"

"Right."

There was a pause as they continued to look at each other.

"Is this the part where we're supposed to hug?"

"... Let's not, and say we did."

"Oh, thank fuck for that."

Friday 4 September, 1992:

That evening two days later, Lena and Maggie were in their dormitory working on a Transfiguration essay. They were sitting cross-legged on Maggie's bed, surrounded by text books and pieces of parchment.

"What page was that Purcell quote on?" Lena asked Maggie as she scribbled down notes.

Maggie flicked through one of the larger textbooks. "Um... forty-nine."

"Thanks."

"Can I borrow that copy of the Transfiguration Today article?"

"Sure," replied Lena, scanning the bed for the correct bundle of papers. Spotting it, she leaned over to grab it, when there was a knock at the door.

Lena and Maggie froze, staring at each other in bewilderment.

"Did somebody just knock on our door?" hissed Maggie.

Before Lena could respond, Maggie was answered by the sound of another knock. Both girls' heads snapped towards the door, disbelief etched on their faces. Ever since Lena had 'persuaded' Nicole Bletchley and Flavia Warrington to move out of their dormitory back in First Year, nobody had knocked on their door.

There was a third knock on the door. Lena and Maggie looked back at each other, then Lena hopped off the bed and approached the door. With one more glance back at Maggie and a shrug of her shoulders, she opened it.

Standing opposite her, with a fist raised as if about to knock again, stood Gemma Farley, the female Slytherin Prefect of their year level. Lena quickly masked her surprise with an expression of indifference, and leaned against the doorframe.

"Can I help you, Farley?" she drawled. She heard her dormmate shift on her bed, evidently curious upon hearing their visitor's name.

For a moment, Farley was frozen. Then she noticed her still-raised fist and awkwardly lowered it. She cleared her throat. "Um, hello." Her voice slightly cracked on the last syllable.

Instead of responding, Lena crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow, perfecting her look of bored-but-still-intimidating. By the way Farley gulped, it seemed to be working.

"Erm, okay," began Farley, nervously fiddling with her skirt. "Well, the thing is... well, I was wondering – that is to say, we were wondering, um, if maybe... well, we've been thinking, um–"

Lena rolled her eyes. "Spit it out," she said sharply.

Farley flinched, taking a step back. Realising that maybe intimidation wasn't going to be the quickest method of finding out what Farley wanted, Lena sighed.

"I'm not going to hex you just for asking me a question," she told the anxious girl.

With a cautious nod, Farley took a deep breath and tried again. Only this time, she spat it out a little too quickly. "Werondringfoochusdefesgenstarketsear?"

Lena blinked. "I'm sorry, would you like to repeat that again in a language that people actually speak?" she asked drily.

Farley blushed, and coughed slightly. She said in a much slower, clearer voice, "We were wondering if you would teach us Defence Against the Dark Arts this year?"

Lena actually recoiled. She heard Maggie make a strange noise behind her, but didn't take her eyes off Farley. After a very pregnant pause, she asked flatly, "You what?"

Somehow, the fact that Lena had so clearly been thrown off balance by her request appeared to embolden Farley. "Well," she explained, "it's clear Lockhart is... well, that he doesn't really know what he's talking about. Especially not at NEWT level." Her tone became somewhat aggravated. "I mean everything he's been trying to teach us this week, he's felt the need to tie it back to one of his books. He basically dodges any question that he can't find the answer to in them. But you..." She hesitated, before finishing in a rushed voice, "You know your stuff."

Staring back at Farley blankly, Lena felt confused – not because she didn't understand what Farley was saying, but because she was making complete sense. Their class had had two more lessons with Lockhart since their initial one. On both occasions, Lockhart had simply recounted passages from his books, and when asked a question relating to the actual course curriculum, had deflected it. And several times this had happened, an exasperated Lena had taken it upon herself to answer the question – naturally, in the snarkiest and most disinterested ways she possibly could. It hadn't occurred to her that she'd actually done more to teach their class than Lockhart had that week.

Then Lena remembered how Farley had begun her request, and frowned. "Who's 'we'?"

Farley bit her lip anxiously. "Um, all the Slytherins in our class."

Lena cocked her head. "So what, you guys had a little meeting about how concerned you all were about your academic futures?" she asked, sceptical.

Farley shrugged. "Basically. I mean, I think Flint was just hoping you'd teach us some Dark curses. But the rest of us – I mean, Quirrell might not have been able to put a coherent sentence together, but at least he wasn't a complete imbecile." The mention of Quirrell put Lena on edge, but Farley wasn't finished yet. "And although it's not exactly a secret that you don't really like... well," she rubbed her neck awkwardly, "anyone, really, except for Skelton and that Hufflepuff guy, the way you've answered questions in class this week was, well, quite helpful."

Pushing aside the strangely flattered feeling she received from Farley's words, Lena returned to the safe mode of sarcasm. "So what, you want me to take over the Defence classes? What do I do with Lockhart while I'm teaching, tie him up and lock him in a trunk?"

Farley's eyes widened slightly, evidently unsure whether Lena was being serious or not. "Um..."

Running a hand through her hair, Lena shot Farley an incredulous look. "No, Farley, obviously I'm not going to do that." She couldn't resist adding, "I mean, for one lesson, sure, but not an entire year."

There was a snort of amusement from Maggie.

Sighing, Lena crossed her arms and looked at Farley in what she hoped was a slightly sympathetic manner. "Look, Farley, I understand your desire to have a competent teacher in this subject, and Merlin knows Lockhart is an insufferable git, but even if it was feasible, me teaching the rest of you would be a terrible–"

"It's a good idea."

It was Maggie who had spoken, and Lena spun around to face her, surprised. "Care to elaborate?" she inquired.

Maggie shrugged and walked over to join them at the doorway. "You're actually a pretty good teacher. I mean, I think my OWL results provide enough evidence of that. And it's not like you'd have to replace Lockhart during lessons – you could organise classes outside of our timetables."

Lena frowned. "You think they're really willing to give up their free time for more lessons?" she asked, doubtful.

"They're willing to come to you for help," Maggie pointed out. She glanced at Farley, who was watching them curiously. "And if they're that desperate, well..."

Lena mulled it over. She didn't particularly like her Slytherin classmates, but she supposed it wasn't really fair that they were receiving an inadequate education just because Dumbledore was unable to find a competent, willing DADA teacher. It wasn't like she couldn't spare the extra time. And there was something attractive about the opportunity to set her classmates homework...

"Well, if you really want me to teach you," she said to Farley, "perhaps we can give it a trial run."

"Really?" asked Farley, looking as if she couldn't believe her luck. "You're sure?"

"No, I'm not sure. That's why I said we'll give it a trial run. And," added Lena, "I'd like to do it sooner rather than later. So you can tell the others that if they're interested, they need to show up on Sunday morning at ten."

"Oh, I don't think Flint can do Sunday," said Farley. "He's scheduled Quidditch practise for then, and he's a got a new seeker, so he really needs to train him. Could we possibly do tomorrow?"

Yes, Lena could have done Saturday. But just before she opened her mouth to agree, a thought occurred to her. If she really was going to be their teacher, she needed to know they would respect her authority, and she needed to know they were going to commit to this. So instead, she bluntly told Farley, "No. We can't do Saturday. It's Sunday. If Flint can't make it then, that's his problem."

She could see a confused Maggie out of the corner of her eye. Worried that she might ask why Lena couldn't do Saturday, she shot her a warning look.

Clearly taken aback, Farley stuttered out, "R-right. Um... it's just that he said that, that Gryffindor has already booked the pitch for tomorrow, so–"

"Farley."

Farley came to an abrupt silence.

"I really don't care."

After a moment's silence, Farley nodded quickly. "Right, yeah, I'm sure he can sort something out. So, ten a.m., Sunday? And where will me meet?"

Racking her brain, Lena soon came up with a suitable venue. "There's an unused classroom on the first-floor. But in case you lot can't find it, we can meet in the corridor first."

"Okay, sounds good."

For a moment, Farley continued to stare at Lena. When she showed no sign of movement, Lena raised an eyebrow. "Was there something else?"

Farley blinked. "What? Oh, no," she said, her face flushing. "Um, well... thank you."

Impatient to get back to her Transfiguration essay, Lena flapped her hand in a shooing motion. "Yes, yes."

Comprehending the gesture, Farley took a couple of steps back. "Oh right, well – good night, then."

Lena gave her a curt nod, then shut the door. She turned around to find Maggie smirking at her. "What?"

"Are you going to make them call you Professor Lestrange?"

Lena snorted. "I might need to test the mood of the room first," she deadpanned.

They sat back down on Maggie's bed. "Well, have fun on Sunday," said Maggie. "Hanging out with Flint, Burke, Bletchley – sounds like a whole lot of fun." She sniggered.

As Lena picked up her parchment to read it over, she glanced up at Maggie, amused. "Oh, you're going to be there too."

Maggie's laughter immediately ceased. "What are you talking about?"

Lena gave her friend her best twisted smile. "You're the one who talked me into this. You're not getting out of it."

Maggie crossed her arms defiantly. "So what, you're going to force me to come?"

Still smiling, Lena began crossing out the extraneous words in her essay. "Only in the sense that coming is the only way you're going to continue getting Defence Against the Dark Arts help from me."

Maggie groaned, and dramatically slumped back against her pillow. "You're a hard woman, Lestrange."

Lena chuckled. "Thank you. Oh–" she grinned at Maggie, "–and that's Professor Lestrange to you."