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SEPTEMBER 1977
6th Year
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""In everybody's life there are hidden chapters which they hope may never be known."" - Sir Agatha Christie, The Moving Finger
Leah Sherlock intimidated people.
She was who every first year - especially Ravenclaws - were always warned about.
She could break someone and have them confess and play right into her hand without even having to lift a finger.
So when she was lied to, she wasn't happy.
Especially when she was so desperate to know the answer.
Leah sat with her usual group at dinner, stabbing at her food with her fork, glaring over at the Gryffindor table, her left pointer finger constantly tapping at the table in irritation.
"Leah, if you stab that chicken any harder, you'll break your plate." Emily told her.
"And turn the chicken into mush." Claudia chuckled.
"The reason you're so... Leah," Warren started, "Isn't because of my portrayal of a ruthless criminal was it? Because if it is, I'm sorry, but I'm weak string bean, not a strong bag of flour like Felix." He said, nodding his head at his best friend.
The Scottish boy turned to the Ravenclaw, "Did you just refer to me as a bag of flour."
"M-Maybe," Warren stuttered, "Please don't hit me."
Leah angrily turned to the the two boys across from her, "Would you two shut up?"
"Leah, what happened?" Claudia asked her softly, only for the girl to keep her gaze on the Gryffindor table.
Following her eyeline, Emily's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Why are you glaring at Potter and his friends."
Moving her gaze back to her stabbed at chicken, Leah mumbled, "Lupin."
"Lupin?" Warren repeated.
"I thought you and Remus' conversation last week was of no significance to us." Claudia said.
"He sat at my table in the library today." Leah sighed, tightening her iconic ponytail.
"Oh no!" Felix sarcastically cried, "Let's put a hit on him."
