Leo grinned wide and laughed. "Ducks are merely pawns to time - do they come, will they shine? Each is different, each is fine; but watch their footsteps, worth more than dimes." Then she frowned. "I didn't like that at all." Quirking a lopsided smile, Leo said, "I owe many things to a certain person. Who is it? Not a star that granted wishes, just a friend that flick the switches." Leo shifted her legs, feet now settled on the ground. "As for you? Well, I think that you're a Leah, of course. And me?" She laughed. "My ducks, I fear, are small and few - only one, not even done."
Leo smiled mischievously. She liked the way Leah played his conversation. But she, too, loved the game. "A pair of lions in the distance, left behind their cub with kisses. Cub goes forth, brings a torch, venture to far off north. Back at home, beasts will feast. Wait to hear of their cub's feats. Lion, one, blood called pure. Two - blood, dark as her fur." Leo looked at Leah. "Now what do you think?"
The riddle, like the game, would be difficult. Leo only hope that Leah would not mind her blood status. Leah looked like a pureblood - sharp features, that nose - but Leo would only wait to find out.
Poetry, to Leo, were second nature. Riddles were the obvious follow of poetry. From a young age, Leo had spoke in rhyme - it flowed like the wind through the trees, or the river's current. Smooth, cool, fresh - like water gems falling from a cliff. Beautiful things.
Leo wondered idly if Leah would remain her friend once they reached Hogwarts. Was she too strange, even in a world full of magic?