It was almost as if the weather had a calendar itself. The moment it became November the colors began to fade from the castle grounds. The vibrant colored leaves on Emmeline's bed were drying up, becoming a delicate brow. The fires in the basement roared ever higher to keep the chill at bay, and the melodicius clematis on Hannah's bed was singing more quietly each day. They were dreary and limp without the summer's abundance of sunlight. The Hufflepuff girls made sure to clap extra hard every morning to make up for it. They all knew the blooms would survive the winter, but it appeared they wouldn't be happy about it.
Hogwarts, too, seemed to know it was time to move on. Emmeline had expected everyone to be talking about the troll for weeks. Yet by lunch the next day, most of the students had already grown bored of the topic. Nothing had really happened, anyway. No one had died. No one had been hurt. Even the girls' lavatory had been fixed by the time they all woke on November first. Despite the number of people at Hogwarts, the accomplished staff, and the sheer size of the troll, the teachers had yet to figure out how it had gotten in. Or if they had, they were keeping it to themselves. There were only so many wild theories the students could come up with on their own. That left them to speculate about the students that had been involved, the ones Professor Sprout had said spotted the troll in the corridor. It would have been the perfect opportunity to speak up and gain popularity. Surely anyone who had seen a mountain troll and lived would be swarmed by admirers who wanted to hear the story. But whoever those students were, they weren't talking.
Ernie kept suggesting they'd been sworn to secrecy by staff to prevent a mass panic. Susan was of the mind that they were too shocked to discuss it. Either way, no one was any closer to finding real answers. The Hufflepuff first years spent one dinner guessing who the unlucky students might've been—pointing out Libretta Moon's unusually tired, haunted eyes, and the way Morag MacDougal had been furiously straightening his tie all day. Just like the troll theories though, it lost its fun too quickly. The first years hardly knew anyone but themselves, and so it wasn't long before most people had forgotten about the troll altogether. Everything went back to normal.
For Emmeline, that meant staying up too late in the common room attempting to parse the secrets of her homework. One good day wasn't enough to save the terrible Transfiguration essay she needed to finish or help her understand her dreary history readings. All it did was make her even more frustrated with herself. Struggling word by word with her readings was agony after her taste of success. She knew that she could perform well, under some mysterious circumstances. So why was it all so difficult?
Emmeline was pondering this on her way to class one morning after another sleepless night of cross-checking and editing her star chart. She darted through the halls with her muffin, planning on stopping by the bathroom before lessons. But when she finally reached the impossibly long queue for the girls' lavatory on the first floor, her feet refused to carry her forward.
Somehow the place seemed even worse since Halloween. Emmeline wasn't sure what it was. Were more students crowding in looking for traces of the troll? Or was the knowledge that there had been a real live troll in there making the bathroom less appealing to her? Either way, Emmeline could barely stand the thought of waiting in queue for a stall. Resigned, she finished her snack and set off for her only alternative.
"Go away! I just want to be left—oh…it's you again…"
Moaning Myrtle's tirade petered off once she spotted Emmeline. The ghostly girl was hovering over her preferred stall, arms crossed over her chest, and staring imperiously down her nose.
More than anything, Emmeline wished she could just avoid the confrontation. But she'd tried ignoring her last time, and that hadn't gone well at all. So she offered Myrtle a weak smile and ducked into the closest stall, making sure to drape her cloak over her lap when she sat down—just in case Myrtle stuck her head through the door again.
She was hoping that Myrtle might just drift away and leave her in peace, but no such luck; Myrtle was waiting for her by the sinks, her head merged with the mirror and pouting angrily where Emmeline's reflection should have been. Emmeline smiled again and averted her eyes to wash her hands.
"Why are you still here?"
Emmeline jumped a bit, somehow still surprised to be addressed. She held up her soapy hands in answer, and Myrtle glowered at her.
"No. Why are you in my bathroom? I told you I want to be alone! Go and use one of the other bathrooms! Go on! Go!"
Her screams were getting louder. The way they echoed and bounced off the walls made Emmeline's head ache. Finally, she snapped and shouted back.
"Because there are people there! And I don't—I don't like…people…"
At the very least, Myrtle had stopped screaming. She stared at Emmeline in shock, her eyes twice magnified behind her thick glasses.
"Oh, that's not what I meant," Emmeline sighed miserably. She was talking to herself more than Myrtle. "It's just so crowded. And I hate crowds! It makes it so hard to think and to move. People can be nice. It's not all people, just…"
"No, I—I know!" To Emmeline's surprise, Myrtle receded into the mirror, then popped out of the next one over, her legs crossed as though she was sitting on top of the sink. "I…I don't like people much, either."
"I'm sorry," Emmeline said compulsively. "About the girl, I mean. The one who bullied you?"
"Oh. Olive." Myrtle sneered at the floor and gave an airy sigh. "It's alright. She's been dead for years now. I was sure to make her last few awful though! I haunted her for ages until she died."
The thought seemed to positively delight her. Emmeline forced out a laugh to be polite.
"Ah, but that was a long time ago. Now I just stay in here."
"Are you always in this bathroom?" asked Emmeline.
"Usually. Any time I leave, P-Peeves usually finds me to make fun of me." Myrtle blubbered for a moment before her eyes shot to Emmeline, full of suspicion. "Why? Because you don't want me here? I know that! No one wants me here!"
"No! No, I—I'd just wondered because something happened in the other girls' lavatory the other day. Someone let a troll in the castle. I'd just wondered if you'd seen it."
"A troll? No, I didn't hear about that. No one—no one ever tells me anything." She looked as though she were about to cry again, but then her face lit up. "Ooh, did anybody die?"
"Oh—no. I'm…sorry?"
Myrtle immediately deflated.
"That's too bad. It would have been nice for someone else to die in a bathroom. It's terribly boring being the only one."
"Did you die here?" Emmeline asked, aghast.
"Ooh, yes! It's been nearly fifty years, now."
"What happened?"
"I don't remember much of it, really. One minute I was coming out of the cubicle, and the next I was looking down at my body on the floor. I—I don't even know what h-happened…"
It would have been rude, Emmeline thought, to clap her hands over her ears. So she endured Myrtle's wails with a scrunched up face and attempted to look sympathetic at the same time. Myrtle rocketed toward the ceiling, flipped, and then dove into one of the stalls. There was a distinctive splash as she plunged herself into the toilet.
Emmeline dried her hands on her robes. Myrtle was certainly an eccentric person.
The sound of the warning bell echoed down the corridor, prompting Emmeline to collect her things and head to class. She could usually get there all on her own now. Maybe the Fat Friar had been right. Hufflepuffs were good at finding things.
Professor Binns was already waiting for the class, hovering in front of his podium in what looked like a dead sleep. Emmeline settled into her seat in front of him and pulled out one of her notebooks. Today they were meant to be covering the earliest communications between wizards and merpeople, something Emmeline really was interested it. She was going to do her best to stay awake for a change. Opening her textbook, she began scanning the chapter, just in case Professor Binns' voice put her to sleep anyway. She'd just finished the introduction when there was a soft cough to her left.
Hermione Granger was back in her seat today. She was watching Emmeline read, though without her usual vitriol. In fact, she looked timid.
"Morning."
"Um…morning…"
"Did…Did I miss anything?" Hermione asked. "The other day, when…when I missed class?"
"You're asking me what you missed? In this class?"
"I suppose," she said sheepishly.
Emmeline blinked at her. She would've thought it was some cruel test had Hermione's cheeks not been so pink. Bewildered, Emmeline could only shrug.
"We went over the chapter on wizards and goblins. Nothing you don't know already, I'm sure."
She turned back to her textbook. But the morning's surprises were not over yet.
"Thank you," said Hermione. She too had turned to her books, but continued speaking in a practiced voice. "Normally I would never miss class. Professor McGonagall was furious with me, and I had to explain myself to the rest of the staff as well. But Professor Binns hasn't asked about it yet."
"He probably didn't notice," Emmeline suggested, shooting the ghost a quick glance. "He doesn't seem to notice much. I doubt he even really knows our names."
Hermione delicately laid her quill on the table and turned to face Emmeline squarely.
"Neville said that you covered for me during roll."
Emmeline squirmed. She hadn't thought anyone noticed her impulsive decision. No one had brought it up, and no one had asked her about it. Not even Neville. For some indiscernible reason, she wished he hadn't told anyone.
"I just wanted to say thank you," Hermione continued. "So…thanks…"
"It's fine," said Emmeline, once she'd remembered to say anything at all. "I just thought—you know, you're so worried about class all the time—it must've been important."
She was surprised to see Hermione's face fall. She wrung her hands in her lap and let out a weak chuckle.
"It wasn't important. Actually, it was really stupid."
"Well…it must've been important to you."
Hermione looked up at her with a smile. Emmeline wondered briefly if she'd seen Hermione smile since that first day on the train. At teachers, yes. She always smiled when she knew the answer to a question, or when a professor said she'd done a good job. She must've smiled at the other girls in her house from time to time, or to Neville at least. But she certainly hadn't smiled at Emmeline.
The class bell rang, waking Professor Binns up from his slumber with a start. He coughed violently, and peered through his crooked spectacles at the podium.
"Good afternoon, students. We shall begin class with roll, and then delve into our discussion of the earliest interactions between wizards and merpeople. Please respond with 'here' or 'present' when I call your name. Abbott, Hannah…"
Emmeline was all too happy to turn back to her textbook. It had been a very, very strange morning. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up.
After all that, Emmeline wouldn't have been able to doze off even if she wanted to. Not that Binns' lecture was particularly interesting; it was Hermione, still working diligently next to her, apparently undisturbed by her own complete reversal of personality. Emmeline couldn't help glancing over from time to time, just to make sure that it truly was Hermione there and not some imposter or changeling. It was very tiring. Eventually, Emmeline diverted her energy to doodling in her notebook—vast lakes and baby mermaids, the delicate fins on their faces stretching down their necks and arms and tails, little bubbles and giant squids. It made more sense than anything else at the moment.
"We—ahem—we will continue next week with our comparison of these first interactions with magical creatures and with non-magic humans. Next Friday, I will collect your essays summarizing these encounters. One roll of parchment, please. If there are no questions, you are dismissed."
The last word was all anyone ever heard.
Emmeline packed up her belongings, more than thankful that class was over. She wasn't thrilled that she had Potions next, but she'd double checked her notes from their last lesson, and she was sure that if Professor Snape called on her…
"Do you want help with your essay?"
Emmeline stopped in her tracks, turning back to Hermione. "What?"
"The essay on early wizard and Muggle engagement," she explained. "Professor Binns said it's due…"
"I know when it's due."
It sounded quite rude once she'd said it. Hermione actually flinched, which made Emmeline feel bad. But still.
"Why would you want to help me?" Emmeline asked.
Hermione looked intently down at her shoes. Her bushy hair hid most of her face, but Emmeline could still hear her voice well enough.
"I've been awful to you, Emmeline. Everything I said on the train, and about how you do your schoolwork. I should never have called you lazy. You had every right to yell at me the other day. I'm really sorry."
"It's fine." She hadn't even thought about the words. She might've been just as shocked as Hermione that they were true. "I…suppose I haven't been very nice, either."
Hermione smiled.
"I don't mean to sound rude, or bossy. But if you're having trouble with the readings, I thought I could go over my notes with you. And we could work on the assignment together. Maybe on Wednesday, before dinner?"
"Um…sure." Emmeline nodded, still wildly unsure of herself. "That'd be nice. Thanks."
"Come on, Emmeline." Hannah had appeared at her shoulder. She placed a protective arm around Emmeline and pointedly avoided looking at Hermione. "We're going to be late for Potions."
Emmeline was just able to wave goodbye before Hannah and the other Hufflepuff girls ushered her out into the corridor. It was not a particularly nice thing to do, but Emmeline thought it had been good of them to attempt it.
"What was that about?" asked Susan as they walked down the hallway. "Was she being rude to you again?"
"No," Emmeline assured her. "Actually, I think she was trying to be nice."
It was comforting to see that this turn of events confused everyone as much as it had her.
"Huh," said Hannah, eyebrows high. "Who'd have thought?"
"I did," Sally-Anne said pointedly. "See? I told you she couldn't be that bad!"
"Oh pipe down, Sally-Anne. It was your idea to drag Emmeline out of there in the first place."
Emmeline did not explain Hermione's offer to her housemates. She still couldn't fathom what had prompted Hermione to apologize in the first place. She'd seemed genuine at the time and, though Emmeline kept an eye out over the coming days, she showed no sign of reverting. Emmeline went so far as to corner Neville in Herbology, demanding to know if he'd asked Hermione to make amends. Though Neville had been startled, he'd promised he'd asked Hermione nothing of the sort, only told her about History of Magic.
"It was really nice of you," he'd explained over the pot of fluxweed they were measuring. "I just thought she ought to know."
Emmeline huffed at that, and refused to answer.
The only explanation she could think of was that Hermione must be helping her as repayment for covering for her in class. Emmeline didn't think it was that big of a deal, but of course, to Hermione, attendance was probably more important than life itself.
Emmeline still wasn't sure what had made her agree to the arrangement, or indeed why she'd accepted Hermione's apology in the first place. Mostly, it had taken her off guard. And that was what you were meant to do when someone apologized to you, wasn't it? Accept, reassure them, and admit your own fault in the matter. Emmeline hadn't accepted many apologies in her life, but that seemed the right thing to do. That was what she kept in mind as she headed for their study meeting on Wednesday afternoon.
They'd agreed to meet at the library. Or rather, Hermione had suggested, and Emmeline had accepted because she couldn't think of a suitable alternative. The library still made her very anxious. She made sure to keep her footsteps quiet as she wandered the room in loops, searching for a familiar head of bushy hair.
She finally found Hermione at a small table in the corner. It was tucked right under one of the tall windows, where deep yellow sunlight washed over the desk and caught on Hermione's stacks and stacks of books, more than Emmeline could imagine was truly necessary. As if studying with Hermione Granger hadn't seemed intimidating enough.
But this clearly hadn't occurred to Hermione. She smiled and waved when she spotted Emmeline, and quickly cleared a spot for her in the next chair.
"I hope this is alright. I'm usually by myself, but I'm sure there's enough room to—are you alright?"
Emmeline had flinched the moment Hermione began to speak. She looked around hurriedly, half expecting someone to come jumping over a bookshelf to scold them. She didn't dare speak in more than a whisper.
"Are we allowed to talk?"
"Oh! I should think so." Hermione looked around as well. "I've seen all sorts of groups working in here on projects for the upper levels. So long as we're not too loud, I don't think Madam Pince minds. I've already introduced myself because I'm here so much. I don't think she really likes the students, but she's very helpful if you know what you're looking for."
Hermione turned back to her books, sifting through the pile until she found the volumes she was looking for. She also unearthed a stack of handwritten notes and diagrams, half of which she handed to Emmeline.
"Now, I've made an outline of each of the chapters Professor Binns said should be included in the essay. Before we get into the actual assignment, I thought we could go over each section in detail so you have a solid understanding of each of the parts and how they work together."
"Did you handwrite all of this?" Emmeline asked in awe. The packet must have been more than fifteen pages.
"Oh no, of course not. I used a basic duplication charm on my original notes. I made this a few weeks ago, mind you, so we'll have to go through and incorporate the points from Binns' lectures. Ooh, and there's also a timeline at the back so you can get a better understanding of their order and chronological relationships at a glance. I thought we'd start with the first recorded instances of magic and non-magic division, and then discuss the changing reactions throughout the timeline, from the times of magical incorporation in politics to our current status of complete secrecy. Unless you'd prefer to start with a particular section that you had trouble with. I obviously don't want to waste time going over something you already understand, but I thought it'd be nice to do a solid review together front to back. Whichever you'd prefer."
She looked at Emmeline expectantly. All Emmeline could do in response was blink.
"Um…is that alright?" Hermione asked.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk really quickly? Not that it's bad," she added when Hermione's face fell, "it's just that…well, it can be a bit difficult to keep up with you. Everything you're saying sounds really interesting, but by the time I've processed one bit you're about three sentences farther on…does that make sense?"
Hermione nodded.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, pulling at the edges of her cuffs.
"No, I'm sorry. I wish I could…I don't know. Think faster."
They both sat in silence, fiddling with their quills and flipping through the packets Hermione had provided. Emmeline pulled her own textbook from her bag and opened it up to the first chapter the outline indicated. She clasped her hands on the table and returned her full attention to Hermione.
"So. What was it you were trying to ask me?"
Hermione took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.
"Where would you like to begin the review?" she asked, enunciating each word clearly. It sounded ridiculous, and made Emmeline smile.
"The beginning. Please."
They stayed in the library for hours. It was longer than Emmeline had ever spent on one assignment, especially one that wasn't due for another week. She knew she'd have to stay up late to finish Transfiguration, but it had been worth it.
Neville had been right about Hermione—about how helpful she could be, at the very least. Emmeline was not surprised that Hermione knew the material inside out. She seemed to know just about everything, which was extremely annoying at times. More than once Hermione dove into complex topics that Emmeline hadn't the foggiest understanding of. Emmeline also had a terrible memory, which meant Hermione constantly had to go back and repeat herself slower and more clearly than the first time around, running in circles trying to get Emmeline to recall simple names and dates. It was clearly driving her mad. To her credit, it did not stop her.
But Hermione's vast knowledge was also very useful, not just because she knew the subject better, but also because she knew more words. She could say a lot of things in a lot of different ways, until she found the one that helped Emmeline get to the point. It was the most Emmeline had gotten out of her textbooks since she'd left Sebara Cottage.
When Emmeline was certain that her brain was about to start spitting smoke, they finally packed up their belongings. Emmeline waited patiently while Hermione reshelved most of the pile she'd heaved to their table. The rest she checked out from Madam Pince.
Madam Pince was the Hogwarts School librarian, a severe looking woman with a beaky nose and large jewel shaped glasses—as if all Emmeline's fears and worries about the Hogwarts Library had swirled up and created a real person. Needless to say, she declined Hermione's offer for an introduction.
"History of Magic is one of my best classes," Hermione gushed on their way down to dinner. "But I think that's because the work is so familiar. Studying magical history isn't all that different from studying non-magic history, after all. Just with different names and dates."
"I'm not very good with names and dates," said Emmeline, as if Hermione might not know this after hours of lecturing her. "I never have been, even when Aunt Vee was teaching me at home."
"Did you have homeschooling?" Hermione asked with interest.
"I guess so. Aunt Vee taught me how to read and write, if that's what you mean. She's an Auror, so that means she works for the Ministry of Magic hunting dark wizards. When I was little, she used to take me to work with her so she could keep an eye on me, but sometimes it gets really busy. Once I was old enough to stay home she'd just give me lots of mock assignments so I'd be more prepared when I got to Hogwarts. Sometimes I think it was just to keep me busy, though."
"I think that's an incredible idea. Really, more guardians should do that. From what I've read there really is no standardized education for most wizarding families, which leaves quite a big disparity for first year education. How can they expect us to be writing at the same level when some of us have never even written an essay before? We really ought to be taking rudimentary writing and mathematics classes as well. I've been through the curriculum, and there doesn't even seem to be any home economics classes either, for teaching things like domestic magic. It's really invaluable information, and they can't possibly fit it all into our Charms courses."
Emmeline hummed in agreement. Hermione must've sensed that she'd lost track of the conversation, because she sighed and redirected her question.
"What's your favorite class so far?"
"Flying," answered Emmeline without hesitation.
"Ooh, I didn't like flying. It requires such a different kind of discipline than traditional magic."
"I know there's a lot to remember. But it'll get easier with practice."
"Hm, I suppose. But I'm not fond of heights. I think I'll stick to Transfiguration. I find it absolutely fascinating."
"I'm rubbish at Transfiguration," Emmeline griped. "Almost as bad as History. Or Potions, for that matter."
Hermione looked over at her thoughtfully. They were nearly to the Great Hall now, but Hermione drifted to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.
"I could go over it with you, if you'd like."
Emmeline stopped as well. "What?"
"Not this week's assignment, obviously. I know Transfiguration can be especially convoluted. The notes all read like puzzles. Even I have a difficult time understanding at times. But I could always…"
"You don't have to do this, Hermione."
Now it was Hermione's turn to blink in confusion. "Do what?"
"Help me," Emmeline answered. "I know it must be really annoying explaining everything ten times. I really don't want to bother you. If this is because I covered for you in class, you don't have to worry about—"
"It's not! Really, it's…that's not why I'm asking." Hermione bit her lip. It was strange to see her uncertain. "I like explaining things. And I like having someone to work with. It's nice."
Emmeline narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"What happened to you when you skipped class?"
It came out ruder than she'd intended, but thankfully Hermione laughed. It was the first time Emmeline had ever seen her do so.
"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you," said Hermione. "So…same time next week?"
"Okay," Emmeline agreed. "Sure. Same time next week."
They nodded at each other, both a little nervous, both a little unsure, and then parted ways to their house tables.
"There you are, Emmeline!" Susan perked up as she took her seat. "We were starting to worry!"
"Where've you been?" asked Hannah.
"Library," Emmeline answered.
"Ooh, I don't like the library," said Sally-Anne. "It's so intimidating in there! And I've no idea how to find anything."
"Check the catalog," David said simply.
"I know, but it's so different! Everything's all mixed up! In my old school, we all learned the Dewey Decimal System, and that was that."
"The what?"
The argument continued through dinner: who did what things which ways and what which way made easier. Emmeline knew at some point these conversations would probably die out. As they all got to know each other, there would be fewer questions about how the other half of the world lived. But she hoped they'd go on for a little while longer. She liked hearing about the fantasy world of Muggles.
When everyone had eaten their fill, they headed back to the basement. Emmeline left her housemates in the common room and continued on to their dorm. Her head ached from all the work she'd already done. And Wednesday evenings were reserved for writing to Aunt Vee.
She knocked on their door and waited the customary five seconds. By the time she'd poked her head in, Megan had hidden her face behind a book, her schoolwork spread out in front of her. She did not acknowledge Emmeline, and Emmeline did not acknowledge her. She'd tried a few times in the past but discovered that Megan was happiest when left to herself. Emmeline was pleased to see she was crying less and less by the day.
Humphrey darted out from under Emmeline's bed, nearly tripping her in his eagerness to rub against her legs. She scooped him into her arms and pressed her face into his fur. His deep purring tickled her face, and she giggled. Humphrey always felt like home.
Climbing into her bed, she grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and a quill, waited for Humphrey to settled at her feet, and she began to write.
Dear Aunt Vee,
It's been a very strange week. Halloween didn't stop our teachers from assigning us homework. I know you told me it wouldn't, but I was still hoping for some free time. They did give us pumpkin pasties for breakfast, which was wonderful. But I missed listening to the Halloween Special on the radio with you.
The castle was really pretty though. There were lots of decorations and enormous pumpkins that Hagrid grew in his yard. He told me to say hello to you, and that he hopes you're doing well. Hagrid says I'm invited to tea whenever I want, so long as he's not out taking care of the grounds but it feels weird to invite myself down there, even when he says I'm allowed. How often do you think I'm allowed to go? Would it be rude to go every week? Hagrid's cooking isn't very good, but sometimes I like his house more than the Great Hall. There's less people, and it's easier to think.
Another thing happened on Halloween. Before I tell you, I want to say that NO ONE GOT HURT. But they rushed us all out of the Great Hall because apparently someone let a troll into the castle! The teachers got rid of it pretty quickly, but no one will tell us what happened. I don't even know what kind of troll it was. Professor Sprout said that they were still trying to find out how it got in in the first place, but that they were going to double all the security. So you don't have anything to worry about. I'm very safe.
Class is still hard. I think I'm getting better, but I miss having you around to help explain the chapter. (I miss you all the time, of course, but especially when I'm doing homework!) Today I made an arrangement with one of my classmates. I know I've told you about Hermione Granger, in Gryffindor. Usually she's bossy and mean, but today she was actually nice. She missed class the other day, and I think something must have happened. She offered to help me with my schoolwork because she thinks it's fun. I'm not sure if she's playing a trick on me, or if she's just weird. But I agreed to work with her for now because she's smart and really good at explaining things. I'll let you know how it all goes.
I ALMOST FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! The Quidditch schedule came out this week, and the season starts this month! I'll get to see my first real game! Not just watching pictures in books! A real proper game! I'm really, really excited. It's Slytherin versus Gryffindor, which means I'll also get to watch Harry Potter fly, and a Nimbus 2000. I have a feeling it's going to be an incredible game.
Also PLEASE don't tell anyone about Harry being Seeker. I know I've told you this, but it's supposed to be a secret, and I don't want anyone to know I've told, but I'm so excited to see him play. You told me first years would never make the team, but Harry Potter is so good that they drafted him and bought him a broom! A Nimbus 2000! Can you imagine how good he must be? He's the Gryffindor team's secret weapon. I can't wait for everyone to find out.
Alright, I think that's all for now. Humphrey is already asleep on my feet, which kind of hurts. He's heavier than when we left home. I think you must have been right about all the mice. I hope it's no one's pets. I haven't seen anyone in Hufflepuff with a rat though, so we should be okay.
All our love,
Emmeline and Humphrey