Andi Mao-Macdougal Zizhen walked into the Great Hall, her skirts swishing about her legs. Her dark hair was neater than usual, the bun heavy against her neck. She gave the scuffling, screaming students a rather less disgusted look this time round (which wasn't saying much). But then, the term was new and no one had had real time to get on her nerves.

Quietly, the Charms professor took a seat next to a man with what looked like an abacus. Probably the Arithmancy professor.

As a student would say: Duh.

Andi rearranged her skirts, crossing her legs and steepled her fingers as she stared out below at the milling mass of children and teenagers. Already the Slytherins, mindful of their heritage, were trying to look evil; the Gryffindors, likewise ancestorial minded, were generally being big-mouthed (did they call it brave?) and glaring at the Slytherins; half the Ravenclaws were pretending to read big books, but were really staring about them; and the Hufflepuffs just... they were just there.

She felt tired already. "How ghastly to be back," she murmured, playing with her fork.