Author's Notes: Well, my dear friend and beta-reader Jaqueline (AngelicGirl) has once more given me the inspiration to keep writing instead of letting this peter out due to lack of reviews (*coughcough*). Thanks again, girl. I hope it's worth it. :)

And Barry? It's still a bar (not a pub), they're still french fries (not chips), and it's a STORE (not a shop). ;D

Disclaimer: While there IS a Snape toy and a lot of pictures on my desk, the Harrypotterverse characters that you recognize still aren't mine. Damn it all. *snaps fingers*

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Leda sat quietly at the long teacher's table, watching over the few scattered, small groups of first-year Hufflepuffs spread throughout the Great Hall during their study period. Those who wanted to practice casting would come sit with her in the Great Hall, and those who wished to research history or spells had the option of studying under the watchful eye of Professor Sinistra, in the library.

Several books and papers were spread over her area, eyes lowered from the generally quiet students. She was busy mulling over next week's lesson when it struck her. It had been nearly two months since she arrived at the school, with little progress outside of student accquaintance and class lessons. She frowned at this thought. Time is a neccessarily evil, though. Surely they can understand that.

A surprisingly loud crack echoed across the hall. She glanced upwards just in times to see hissing sparks erupt from the wand of a blushing, stammering Hufflepuff girl sitting alone at the end of the table.

"Miss Morgan," Leda began.

The little blonde-haired girl, nearly trembling with tension, blurted out a series of stutters and reddened even more. "Y-y-yes, P-... P- ... P- ..."

Leda interrupted rather curtly but tried to keep her tone as gentle as possible. "Would you like my help, Miss Morgan? I realize my schooling was in a different country, and perhaps that makes it a bit strange, but I don't ever remember a simple 'lumos' spell as being one that causes such fireworks."

The girl started to stammer again, but stopped herself before Leda could and simply nodded, blonde ringlets bouncing enthusiastically.

Leda sighed to herself, rising and descending down to the House tables. I need to focus, she thought. Not on the students, not on the lessons, not even on the teachers- on the school itself. Surely there are thousands of strange passages throughout- passages easily leading to an exit, perhaps? She snorted to herself, and the blonde girl snapped her eyes down to her paper. It's never that easy, she thought to herself.

Several more series of sparks were emitted throughout the impromptu lesson, much to the delight of some Hufflepuffs and the nervous fear of others. Finally, as Mallory Morgan got a tiny glowing light to appear at the end of her wand and the small class burst into applause, the bell rang for a change of class. Leda waved them away with a sigh and stood, moving back to her desk to gather her things. She had a class of Gryffindor third- years next, she reminded herself, a brief frown darkening her features as she gathered her books.

"Sloane," the voice growled, as laughter and shouts erupted from behind her into the Hall. Her eyes narrowed, hesitating at the bottom of the black silk robes before snapping upwards to meet his eyes. Snape smirked from behind a drape of black hair before continuing.

"Sloane, tell your simpering, snot-nosed sheep to hurry. I can hardly be expected to force my study class to stand while yours hangs around bleating for you to herd them away."

Leda's eyes flashed dangerously, lips pressed together so tightly that they turned white as her pale cheeks. That greasy, dirt-sucking bastard, her mind hissed. Do it, Leda. Tell him what you think about his sniping attitude, stinking potions, and slap his sneering, stupid smirk! She stared at him for a long moment, her body taut with anger. No. I can't. I can't touch him, because it would raise questions. I can't change, because people will notice. Wordless, and with an intentionally injured expression, she turned and skipped back down the stairs, books and papers tucked firmly under her arms.

What was that?, he wondered, watching her brush through the incoming flood of Slytherin students. She seemed much too angry- shame, considering how much more accessible to insult she is when she's sickeningly sweet. With this thought he took his seat, still watching the doors long after she was gone.



This must stop, she thought sourly, hurrying down the stone corridors to her class room. I've put up with this for two months now, with no explanation put forth other than it's simply his personality. There's no doubt that he is foul tempered, but this treatment is utterly intolerable, she fumed. Of all the nerve, he dares to speak to me in such a tone after willfully abandoning his brothers to the cause. The best way to prevent a potential incident later, though, is to stop the provocation now. You must speak to him. Soon.

She burst into the packed classroom and slammed the door behind her. Her books hit the desk with a bang, silencing any Gryffindors who hadn't caught the point already.

"I'm sure you've already passed your papers to the front of the row?," she mumbled, quickly setting her books in their proper place. Ron Weasley- strikingly reminiscent to several other flame-haired children throughout the school- leaned over to Parvati Patil and whispered something. Without hesitation, Leda drew her wand and aimed it precisely at the boy, speaking with a cool clarity that betrayed her still roiling, angry thoughts. "Locomandibus mortis!"

The class gasped simultaneously as the boy's jaw snapped shut. He looked up at Leda, who stood perfectly posed with hands on waist, his eyes wide in panic. Muffled cries for help tried to fight past his locked jaw, and a sneer formed on her lips. Her narrowed eyes found the dark-haired boy seated just behind Weasely.

"Potter, cast the anticharm to what I just did," she snapped.

The bespectacled boy hesitated for a moment before pointing his wand at Weaseley and speaking quietly. "Relashio mandibus."

Weaseley's jaw fell open and he gasped for air, gawking at Leda in a state of sudden horror and incredible embarrasment. He shot an apologetic look to Parvati, slouched in his chair, and turned nearly as red as his hair.

"Now, Mister Weasely, as I'm certain that you were assisting Miss Patil in the work that will be quizzed in class today," she paused as the class let out a simultaneously groan. "Please tell me the name of the spell I just cast, as well as the anticharm. This was at the very beginning of the chapters on Binding Spells which I assigned, so it should be no problem."

She waited, watching as he tossed a helpless look to Hermione, who shrugged in return. Leda smiled faintly as the bushy-haired Gryffindor mouthed, "I can't help you!"

"Er..." Ron started, for a brief moment, before lowering his eyes and mumbling at his desk.

She rapped her wand on the desk sharply. "Now!"

Folding her arms and the long sleeves of her robe, she smirked slightly as he spoke. "I don't...er... don't know, Miss Sloane. I didn't read it."

"Five points from Gryffindor," she spat, moving back behind her desk. "Now, I want each of you to find a partner and, in groups, you'll come up to me and cast a binding spell and the anticharm on your partner, and then your partner will do it in return. Get working."

The class broke into careful murmurs for only a moment before immediately falling silent. Leda lifted her eyes, beginning to admonish them for not working as they were told, and a clap rang across the class. And another. And another.

Applause? Who would dare?, her mind spat as she followed the students' eyes, wheeling around to face the door. As she parted her auburn waves from her face, she grimaced. Snape stood in the gaping doorway and clapped his long, thin hands together, sneer splitting his thin mouth into a mocking grin.

"Bra-vo, Sloane," he dripped, still clapping slowly. "I've found there's no better way to deal with our little triad of terror..." He sent a venomous glance into the classroom, and Granger, Potter, and Weasely all lowered their eyes. The poisonous look then shot to the fuming Leda, and he spoke curtly. "Sloane, I'd like to see you in my office later to discuss tact within the classroom." Her jaw dropped, rather akin to how Weasley's had earlier in class, and he turned and disappeared into the hallways, leaving her absolutely speechless.