Emmeline always thought Hogwarts was beautiful, but there was something especially magical about the castle on Halloween. The Hufflepuff common room had been bedecked with autumn leaves overnight and pocket-sized pumpkins lined all the windowsills. In the Great Hall, a thunderous sky was rumbling over clouds of live bats. Professor Flitwick was busy replacing the floating candles with various jack-o-lanterns. Most importantly, their breakfast spread included a large pile of pumpkin pasties.

It was a wonderful start to the morning. They'd gotten to breakfast early, leaving Emmeline plenty of time to stuff herself full of eggs, bacon, and little sausages wrapped up like mummies. Then the first years headed off to Defense Against the Dark Arts, chattering about the holiday and their family traditions. Emmeline listened with rapt attention as Wayne and Sally-Anne talked about Muggle celebrations, which all sounded a bit absurd. Jack-o-lanterns she could understand, of course. But why would dressing up as a nurse make strangers give you sweets? It was very odd indeed.

"Morning," said Neville when Emmeline plopped into her seat next to him.

"M'fronin'," Emmeline greeted him through a mouthful of pumpkin.

"Are you eating pasties?" Neville gaped at her wistfully. "I woke up late. All Gryffindor's were gone by the time I got to the Great Hall."

"D'f ya wan' fon?"

She reached into her pocket before Neville could translate and passed him another pumpkin pasty. Neville took it graciously. It wasn't until he was several bites in that he shot her a suspicious look.

"Just how big are your pockets?"

Emmeline merely smiled and shrugged.

A bell sounded round the castle, warning the approach of the lesson. Most of the students were already in their seats. A few were still straggling in from breakfast or the lavatory. Sally-Anne was hovering at Susan and Hannah's desk, still rattling off all the costumes she'd ever worn to her fancy dress parties. Emmeline bravely peeked over at a table on the other side of the room, where Harry was playing some paper game with his ginger friend Ron. But there was one person still conspicuously missing from the classroom.

"Quirrell's always here before first bell."

Dean and Seamus had turned around in their seats, elbows planted on Neville and Emmeline's desk.

"Yeah, but it's Halloween, innit?" Seamus pointed out, in response to Dean's observation. "What'dya reckon? I think he's too scared to leave his room."

"But he's a teacher," said Neville. "What would he be afraid of?"

"What isn't he afraid of?" Dean asked with a laugh. "Werewolves, vampires, banshees…"

"Banshees are no joke," said Seamus darkly. "My uncle saw one once. Nearly kicked it on the spot."

"The point is, Quirrell's seen things. You've heard him talking about all his trips. There's probably some ghoul or poltergeist with a grudge against him, and he's afraid they're coming back for revenge on Halloween!"

"I bet he's not even coming. Give him twenty minutes. That long and we're allowed to leave."

"No way! He'd be way safer in class. Ten minutes at most, and he trips on his way in."

"You're on. What about you, Neville?"

"Oh…I dunno," he said sheepishly.

"Aw, come on," Seamus goaded. "I'll put a galleon on it. How late d'ya think he'll be?"

Neville sighed, clearly reluctant. "Alright. Maybe, five minutes?"

"Cutting it close," Dean said appreciatively. "What do you think, Emmeline?"

Emmeline choked on the last of her pasty. She had not expected to be included in the conversation, and the attention took her by surprise. Neville clapped her on the back until she could breathe again. Terrified of the several sets of eyes on her, she did not have much time to come up with a viable answer. She shook her head as she coughed, making Seamus raise his eyebrows.

"You don' want in?"

"No, I—ah—maybe h-he won't be late."

Dean and Seamus both chuckled, but shrugged.

"Alrigh'," said Seamus, drumming his hands on their desk. "Your loss."

This made Emmeline feel a bit stupid. The good news was that she did not have to suffer long.

The final bell rang, and right on cue, Professor Quirrell stumbled into the classroom. He was frighteningly pale, and the turban on top of his head was slightly askew. He patted it worriedly, scurrying up to the front of the room and tripping on his robes once more.

"S-S-So s-sorry, everyone. Please t-take your seats and—and—and we'll begin the lesson."

With a flick of his wand, the chalk shot up from its tray and began etching their notes onto the board. It was a shaky scrawl, barely legible. It seemed the chalk was just as frantic as their professor.

Seamus turned around with a scowl and slapped a galleon onto the desk. Emmeline tried not to smile as she pocketed it.

She turned back to the blackboard, pleased to find that she recognized the words waiting for her.

"T-Today we will be working on two different spells. A little p-practical lesson, to celebrate the holidays. Now, th-these are two signaling charms, which emit sparks from the tip of your wand. Their use is nearly universal, and—and they are a basic communicative necessity in all fields. In—in—in investigative teams, curse breaking, magizoology, e-even in building and constructive magic. Green sparks for safety, success, affirmative. Red for danger, failure, or negative.

"The ch-charms work in essentially the same way, which is w-w-why pronunciation is s-so important. Verdillious for green sparks, and V-Vermillious for r-r…r-r-red…"

Several students had begun to giggle when Professor Quirrell stuttered over his incantation. His cheeks turned pink as he fiddled with his wand. It made Emmeline feel awful. His stutter was always worse when he was flustered.

"W-W-Well, you—you all can r-read the notes. Review the chapter and then—and then you—you can split off into pairs. We'll have the p-p-period to p-practice and we'll see who can c-conjure the sparks at the end of the lesson."

There was a collective mumble as the class set to work. Emmeline sent a reproachful look at those who had giggled—the two Gryffindor girls, Parvati and Lavender, as well as Ernie and Zacharias among them. It was rude to poke fun at people. And even if she did know what the notes on the board were talking about, it would've been nice to have a refresher before being thrown into a practical lesson.

But if she had to be thrown in the deep end, there couldn't have been a better day for it. Quirrell was right: sending up sparks was a basic necessity in the field, especially for Aurors. And Aunt Vee had always been so concerned with security. She'd started teaching Emmeline defensive theory as soon as she was old enough to understand.

"If anything ever happens," she'd said, "if there's someone in the house who shouldn't be, if there's a stranger by the lake, if you ever get hurt, you need to get to a wand and send up red sparks."

"But, Aunt Vee, I thought I wasn't allowed to do magic?"

Aunt Vee had held her face in her hands, her eyes more intense and earnest than anything.

"Emmeline, if you are in danger, none of those rules matter."

She'd never been in danger, of course. She'd never really needed to practice. But Aunt Vee had drilled the incantations into head. She'd practiced the wrist movements with twigs, pictured the intense colors, thrust her arm up into the air until she knew exactly how much force to use.

In theory, of course. She hadn't tried since getting her own wand.

As they turned from their books to their wands, Emmeline was surprised by how easy it came to her. As soon as she made her first attempt, several glowing sparks shot out the end of her wand. It was only a couple, and they were far too pale. Still, she could hardly believe it. Things rarely came easy to her in class. Things rarely came easily at all.

It wasn't long before she'd gotten the hang of it. Her sparks multiplied, the colors brightened, and soon she was sending waves of sparks she was sure Aunt Vee would have been proud of. It was hard not to be giddy.

Neville, on the other hand, was not having the same luck. The few sparks he was able to produce were an ambiguous amber, and very dull. Every now and then, his wand would give a feeble cough or squirting sound, but there were no sparks to be seen. Most of his attempts yielded no results at all.

"You just have to picture it," Emmeline tried to encourage him. "Imagine pretty fireworks, or jewels, or anything else that color. It's about imagining."

"I am imagining," Neville moaned. "Or I'm trying to, anyway. I keep forgetting which words go to which color!"

"Verdillious is for green. Vermillious is for red."

"I know that. I know it when I'm looking at the book, but then I say it and it sounds wrong, or I'm afraid that I've messed up and said the other one instead! Who makes these things up anyway?"

"I don't know," said Emmeline with a commiserating shrug. "Aunt Vee said it had something to do with Latin."

"Well that's not very helpful. I don't know Latin. I barely know English most days."

Emmeline giggled at his joke, but even Neville himself didn't seem to find it very funny. She quickly silenced herself.

"I don't know Latin either. You just have to practice and find different ways to remember. You'll get it, Neville. I promise."

He nodded miserably. "How do you remember it then?"

"Oh, um…" Emmeline spun her wand in her hands, chewing her bottom lip nervously. "It's kind of…well, it's stupid really…"

"I won't think it's stupid," Neville assured her. "Promise! I can't exactly do any worse, can I?"

She was embarrassed to tell him. But Neville also looked hopeful for the first time since they'd picked up their wands. She didn't want him to lose that again.

"Well…you just have to think of something else the same color. So…I remember Verdillious is green because it's got a D. Like dill. And Vermillious is red, because M is for meat."

Neville stared at her. He stared at her for so long that she started to fidget. Her lungs burned from holding her breath. Her cheeks must've been turning scarlet, she knew it. She clapped her hands over them and groaned.

"I told you it was stupid!"

"No!" Neville was laughing, positively gleeful, but he was also waving his hands in her face. "That's amazing, Emmeline! That's something I can remember! I can remember that!"

Emmeline wrinkled her nose, not entirely believing him. But Neville picked up his wand again, and eagerly went back to practicing.

It took him the entire lesson. Nonetheless, by the time class was over, Neville had been able to conjure a few puffs of emerald green sparks, and a few in startling Gryffindor red.

Professor Quirrell called their attention at the end of the lesson. He had been circling around the edge of the room, watching them closely but maintaining a safe distance from any errant sparks. Emmeline heard Dean make a joke about his turban catching fire.

"Alright, everyone! N-Now, let's do one m-more cast. All—all together, yes? Green, on the count of three. One, two, three…"

"Verdillious!"

Emmeline could tell instantly that several people had shouted the wrong word. Stray red sparks floated around in different directions. Many people had made yellow on accident, like Neville had been struggling with all period. But he'd done it right this time, and so had she. Emmeline's sparks shone bright and true, a clover of green sparks shooting up into the rafters. The only one who surpassed her was Hermione Granger.

"M-Marvelous!" cheered Professor Quirrell. "Marvelous! And now, red! One, two, three…"

"Vermillious!"

The results were vastly better. Those who'd said the wrong thing last time fixed their mistake, and there were only a handful of people who sent up golden sparks. Bolstered by her success, Emmeline shot a stream of ruby red sparks up at the ceiling. They twisted up in a whirlwind spiral, then scattered and dissipated like a soft-spoken firework.

"Aha! Th-that—that was remarkable! Whose was…? M-Miss Marsh! Wonderful!"

Her body went stock still as several people turned around to look at her. She was sure her face was on its way to becoming as red as the sparks. And still, Quirrell was bearing down on her.

"H-H-Have you been practicing?"

"O-oh, um…" Emmeline swallowed deeply. She couldn't allow herself to stutter. The others would mock her, or assume she was mocking him. Either result would be a disaster. "My Aunt Vee is an Auror at the Ministry, sir. She's very strict about defensive magic."

"Well, you'll have t-to thank her then," he said, with a warm smile. "Five points to Hufflepuff. And class dismissed!"

The few whoops of delight from her housemates were nearly drowned out by the collective sound of scraping chairs. But Emmeline could hardly care. Neville was patting her on the back again—not to stop her from choking herself, but in congratulations. Hannah was offering her a high-five, Susan bumping her shoulder good-naturedly. She could've sworn she even saw Harry smile on the other side of the room. And Hermione Granger looked positively murderous.

Emmeline's heart soared.

Defense Against the Dark Arts set a high standard for the day. But her other classes did not disappoint. True, Transfiguration was difficult—it always was—but Emmeline had quite a lot of fun attempting to turn her tiny pumpkin into a satsuma. She kept getting halfway there and falling short. Her gourd was round on the bottom but still distinctly pumpkin shaped on top. Every time she attempted to fix this it would rock back and forth, weebling and wobbling all over the table like some sort of mad children's toy. It was infuriating, and yet incredibly funny. She kept giggling and drawing dirty looks from Smith, which only made her laugh harder.

Even Potions wasn't as awful as it normally was. Perhaps she was high on her confidence from that morning, but Snape didn't seem as terrible. He still called on her to read a passage from their textbook. Emmeline was sure to read carefully and loudly, and by the end, he merely snarled at her and picked another reader.

After a delicious lunch of beef stew, she was feeling positively unstoppable.

History of Magic was a welcome change of pace after her eventful morning. Emmeline was full from lunch, and looking forward to a short nap while Professor Binns attempted to explain the intricacies of early cultural assimilation with the Muggle world. She stacked her textbooks to the perfect height for her chin and folded her arms on top. It was tempting to fall asleep at once, but she knew she ought to wait until the opening of his lecture was over at the very least.

She was so intent on resting her eyes that it took her several minutes to notice that something was wrong.

The bell signaling the beginning of the period rang through the castle. Emmeline stretched out her arms and then did a double take. The chair next to her was empty. Class was about to begin, and Hermione Granger was nowhere to be found.

This realization woke Emmeline up more effectively than any alarm or magical plant. Hermione? Missing class? That was unheard of. And while she'd only had the misfortune to know the girl for two months, she was certain it had been unheard of before her time at Hogwarts as well.

Despite herself she checked the door to the corridor, expecting Hermione to come toppling through with several books from the library. It had to be something like that. Perhaps she'd done an extra credit assignment and the parchment was so long that she had to drag it down the hallway like a cape. Or she was being removed from the first year courses and advancing to the seventh year level. Yes, that made sense. It would be something terribly important, proof she'd outsmarted them all.

Emmeline looked around the room at the other Gryffindors. No one seemed surprised or concerned by Hermione's absence. Maybe they had all gotten the news before class. But why would Hermione's schedule change in the middle of the day? She had seemed perfectly fine in DADA.

With a sudden pang of guilt, Emmeline remembered Hermione's outraged face at the end of class. She was so used to being top of the class. It must've been almost as shocking for her as it had been for Emmeline. She was furious at being outdone. In fact, Emmeline might've gone so far as to say she was heartbroken.

It was absurd to think that she had anything to do with Hermione's absence. That couldn't be it. She tried hard not to imagine Hermione storming to Professor McGonagall's office, demanding to be pulled out of the first year classes so she could have a real challenge. Or worse, Hermione skiving off so that she didn't have to look Emmeline in the eye. That wasn't like her at all. Hermione took so much of her classmate's jeering in stride. One slip in class wouldn't have been enough to faze her. She was still the smartest person in their year. Whatever her reason for being late, Emmeline knew it had to be a good one.

Professor Binns floated in through the chalkboard, nearly merging with his lecture podium before coughing himself back into place.

"Good afternoon, students. We shall begin class with roll, and then carry on with our studies of the earliest interactions between wizards and goblins. Please respond with 'here' or 'present' when I call your name. Abbott, Hannah… Bones, Susan… Brown, Lavender…"

Attendance hadn't been so nerve-wracking since the very first day of class. An inexplicable knot of worry was wriggling in Emmeline's throat. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the door and the podium as Professor Binns read further and further down the list. She still hadn't shown.

"Granger, Hermione…"

Emmeline was not sure what made her do it.

"Here!" she called in a voice far higher than her own, and far softer than Hermione's.

She held her breath, sure that it hadn't worked. But of course, Professor Binns was none the wiser. He nodded, his chin drooping so low that it looked like it was falling through his chest, and continued his way down the list.

After her own name, Emmeline sagged back into her chair. The whole thing felt stupid in retrospect. Still, it was the thought that counted, right? Whatever incredibly important thing was keeping a studious know-it-all like Hermione too busy to attend class, it wouldn't ruin her attendance record. The matter was closed.

As Professor Binns started his lecture, Emmeline spread her books out to take full advantage of the empty desk space. If she had the table to herself, she might as well get comfortable. She folded her arms in front of her and snuggled her face into them. Within a few moments, she was dozing peacefully.

By dinnertime, Emmeline was positively starved. The Hufflepuffs scurried up from their basement into the Great Hall, and the first years had to stop in awe. The decorations had multiplied throughout the day. Even the ones that had been there since morning looked more impressive against the dark night sky. Thunder was still shaking the walls of the castle, occasional bolts of lightning washing out the Great Hall's warm glow to a vivid, eerie blue. The jack-o-lanterns bobbed overhead, acting as an obstacle course for the legion of bats. They were still flying in formation and swooping low enough to graze the top of the students' heads.

The golden platters filled with food the same way they had at the start-of-term banquet. There were roasted chickens and turkeys, whole hams with honey glaze, autumn sides and rolls piled higher than would've been possible without magic. There were even several bowls of sweets included in the dinner spread, just to celebrate.

Emmeline might not have shaken off all her crippling shyness since the start of term, but now at least, she was comfortable enough to eat. And how grateful she was for that.

The Hufflepuff first years seated themselves around a large pumpkin filled with ice cream, the traditional badger carved into the side. Most of them chatted excitedly about the spellwork they'd done in class or returned to the subject of their Halloween traditions with their families. Emmeline was content piling her plate with chicken and sweet potatoes, all covered in melted marshmallows. She munched on them happily, watching the badger on the pumpkin run circles through the tall grass. He made a misstep once or twice, taking a tumble and disappearing in the brush, only for his head to pop up and look around wildly. It was incredibly entertaining.

Halfway into her first plate of food, the doors to the Great Hall slammed open. Many students jumped, looking up to find Professor Quirrell barreling down the center aisle. He looked even paler and more frightened than he had in lessons. So frightened, in fact, that he didn't dare trip.

"Troll! In the dungeons! Troll in the dungeons!"

All chatter stopped immediately. Ernie had frozen with a forkful of brisket halfway to his mouth, and Sally-Anne still had gravy dribbling down her chin. For several seconds, no one moved.

Quirrell trembled as he looked up at the high table.

"Thought you ought to know."

He promptly fainted and collapsed onto the floor.

Emmeline was too shocked to scream. The same could not be said for most of her classmates.

The Great Hall erupted into chaos. Benches scraped along the stones as people frantically shot from their seats. Screams and cries echoed through the room, startling the bats overhead into screeching louder. Emmeline was nearly knocked out of her seat in the hubbub. Still, she couldn't find a way to move her legs.

"SILENCE!"

Dumbledore's amplified voice made the candle flames stutter and brought everyone again to a grinding halt. People froze mid-step and mid-sob, turning to face the headmaster.

"Everyone will please not panic. Now. Prefects will lead their houses back to their dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons."

It seemed Marnie was the first person in the entire castle to recover.

"Hufflepuffs this way!" she called, her bright hair appearing in glimpses as she jumped to see over the crowd. "All Hufflepuffs, immediately! Follow me, please!"

"We're going to the common room?" Susan demanded of the others. Her face was terribly white. "But that's downstairs! It's closer to the troll!"

"Better the basement than the dungeons," said Ernie. "It's the Slytherins who need to worry. Come on!"

Emmeline was moving before her limbs had processed the command. David grabbed a hold of her arm and was hauling her out of her seat, dragging her down the row and away from the table. She didn't have the words to thank him in the moment. Alone, she was sure she would've been left behind, or flattened underfoot by the older students. Though they were the smallest two in Hufflepuff, together they took up enough space to avoid any major jostling.

By the time they'd made it down to the basement, there was a queue to get into the common room. Emmeline recognized Matthew and Roberta up front, the seventh years who'd shown them to the kitchens. They were practically punting the younger students through the barrel entrance. It was a mad rush to get everyone inside.

Inside wasn't much better. Seven years of students were hovering in the common room, too nervous to stand near the door, too restless to go to their dormitories. The first years crammed themselves around the table they used for homework. All of them except Megan; the moment her feet had touched down inside, she took off for their bedroom to be alone. Emmeline couldn't blame her. She had more cause than any of them to worry. Like Ernie had said, if the troll was in the dungeons, Megan's sister was marching straight into the line of fire.

"Is this bad?" Justin asked in a hushed voice, once they'd all gathered round the table. "I've read about trolls in storybooks, and they don't seem that dangerous."

"It's bad," Smith confirmed gravely. "Trolls are destructive at the best of times, especially in an unknown environment. It's probably smashing its way up to the entrance hall right now."

Sally-Anne let out a terrified squeak.

"Don't worry," Susan assured her. "I'm sure the teachers can handle it. They'll probably put it to sleep and have someone escort it off premises."

"They'll have a tough time of it," said David. "Trolls are like dragons, with really thick skins. It would take more than an average sleeping charm to affect them. Taming trolls is really dangerous."

"How did it even get in?" asked Wayne. "The castle's got all sorts of protections on it. What did it do? Waltz through the front door while no one was looking? And from where?"

"The forest?" Hannah suggested. "Devon said all sorts of terrible things live there."

"Maybe. But it'd still have to get across the grounds without everyone seeing it."

"Well that wouldn't be hard," said Smith. "We were all in the castle. So long as no one looked out their window…"

"Hey," said Ernie, lighting up with an idea. "What about that bloke that lives by the forest? The big one who brought us up to the castle?"

"Hagrid?" Emmeline supplied warily.

"Yeah! Maybe they can get him to fight it! He's about big enough, anyway."

Emmeline glared at Ernie with more strength than she'd previously imagined she'd had. Ernie closed his mouth and sank back into his seat.

"Are trolls really big?" asked Sally-Anne. "I always thought they were small."

"It depends on the type," said David. "Different breeds of trolls can grow to different sizes. Some of the smaller varieties are human sized, but mountain trolls can be several stories high. Mum told me about one they studied in Greenland who was nearly thirty feet tall."

The others gasped, impressed.

"Why do you ask?" Smith said to Sally-Anne. "What are trolls like in your books?"

"Grumpy," Justin supplied with a shrug. "Usually they live under bridges and ask you questions before you can cross."

"Oh, that's true," said Sally-Anne, her cheeks somewhat pink. "I was thinking of the tiny ones with the funny hair."

The conversation continued like this for some time, the nine of them swapping stories back and forth about trolls and storybooks and terrifying bedtime stories. Every pause was accompanied with a glance to the barrel hole, waiting for whatever came first—reassuring news or a troll's knotted club.

Thankfully, it was the former.

Nearly an hour later, Professor Sprout tumbled into the common room. She waved off the few students who rushed to help her, and straightened her festive orange and black hat.

"The troll has been taken care of," she informed them, which was met with a sigh of relief. "Professor Dumbledore isn't sure how it got in, but there will be an inquiry over the next few days, and a reinforcement of the school's defenses."

"Was anyone hurt?" called a voice from the back of the room.

"Heavens, no! No, there were a few shocked students who bumped into it, but no one's been harmed in any way. The girls' lavatory on the first floor suffered some damage, but it'll be fixed by the morning."

"Shame," called one of the older boys. Emmeline was fairly certain he was the Quidditch captain. "I was really hoping Snape's office would be smashed to bits."

"Mr. Wharf that is not at all funny," Professor Hufflepuff scolded from her portrait over the fireplace, but it didn't stop the others from laughing.

Professor Sprout cracked a smile. "Sorry to say, but you'll all need to finish your potions assignments before class tomorrow. I suggest you use this time to get a head start. The Headmaster is enforcing an early curfew while the staff deal with the intruder threat and damage."

"But what about the feast?" one girl called from near the fire.

"I skipped lunch for NEWTs! I'm starved!"

"At least pudding!"

"Oh dearie, I nearly forgot!"

Sprout ushered a few students away from the message wall and, with a simple wave of her wand, conjured two long buffet tables. With a few more taps, several platters popped into existence. Piles of napkins, stacks of plates, pitchers of pumpkin juice, rolls, soups, sweets, and pastas, all laid out as they had been upstairs.

The Hufflepuffs' cheered wildly only for Sprout to calm them down once more.

"Ah, ah! One plate for everyone before there are any seconds! I'm looking at you, Mr. Bovich. I trust Professor Huffelpuff will keep you all honest. And we all remember that the most important rule of the Hufflepuff Basement is…?"

"Tidy up!" the students replied in unison.

"Very good!" Sprout said with a smile. "Well, hop to it! Eat up, children! And happy Halloween!"

None of the first years moved, smart enough to know they had no chance at first helpings. It didn't matter much with self-refilling plates, anyway.

"See?" Susan patted Sally-Anne on the arm with a kind smile. "No harm done."

"I'm with Wharf, though," said Justin, dejected. "Would've been nice to skive off Potions for a week or two."

"They'd have it fixed by tomorrow anyway," Ernie dismissed. "Magic, remember? I've seen my Mum right a wrecked room in under a minute when she's got the mind."

"Hm. Pesky thing, magic."

It made all of them laugh.

Eventually they got their food and gathered around to eat their fill of the feast. There were no jack-o-lanterns to distract Emmeline now, so as she ate her food, she watched the people around her. She eavesdropped on conversations, both the first years' and the older students'. Everything was still loud—far too loud for her liking. But when she was focusing on the words rather than attempting to ignore them, it was more bearable.

Emmeline certainly hoped that all her holidays wouldn't be this eventful. But if they ended like this, tucked away in a cozy common room, eating sandwiches and peppermint chocolates, listening to wild stories from her classmates, knowing that they were safe and it had all been no harm done—she might not mind all that much.