Flear had been having a very busy day. From grading to teaching to breaking up a fight between two third years and almost getting hexed herself, she was in desperate need of relief. BUt, now wasn't the time, her first year class was about to start. If there was ever a time to truly hate first years, it wold be now.
Walking into her classroom, having been in the bathroom straightening out her hair that had fallen from her neat ponytail due to the fight that she broke up, it now fell down around her shoulders without a strand out of place. Having never been one for the standard robes, she saw no reason to wear them now that she had no uniform to uphold, much to some of the older professor's distain. Today, she wore a simple white blouse covered by a light blue, thin cardigan sweater and a grey skirt with simple heals.
"Bonjour, class." she said as she walked in, even in her nonchalant attitude, most of the students, so unexperienced and hormone driven at such an age, already falling under her charms. She proceeded to begin class, writing a few things on the board and giving their lesson for the day, a quick tutorial and then let them gather in small groupd to practice so she could finish grading some of the older year's papers.
Sitting at her desk in the front of the class room, she began to grade the papers, suspecting nothing amiss.