As the class was dismissed to go to lunch, everyone was a bit bewildered, and no one was quite sure weather they liked the professor or not.

"Why does she call everyone dear? It's really creepy." Ron asked at lunch.
"Usually, someone does that to make up for some emotional inadequacy." Hermione replied, as though it was quite obvious.
"Emotional inadequacy? As in she still sleeps with a teddy bear?"
"NO, emotional inadequacy as in she's trying to make up for something that's lacking, like-"
"She sure isn't lacking in anything!" interrupted Seamus. "In fact, she's got plenty to spare!"
Hermione made a disgusted face at him. "Pig.." She muttered, as she went back to reading a book.
"What do you mean, pig? It's true!"
"That is such a sexist comment, it's disgusting. She's a human, and she shouldn't be ogled at like some new broomstick in a Quidditch store window! I suppose you have a house-elf at home too, don't you?"
"Are you STILL going on about that spew thing, Hermione?" Ron interrupted.
"YES, I AM!" Hermione half-shrieked. She grabbed her bag, stuffed her book in it, and stormed out, heading for the common room.

"What was THAT about?" Harry asked. Ron thought it odd that he hadn't tried to break them up.
"I dunno. She's a teenage girl. They all act hormonal sometimes.at least, that's what I heard Bill say once." Ron replied, shrugging. "She'll get over it. She always does." And this was where the conversation ended. They went back to eating, and forgot all about Hermione's outburst, all except Harry. Harry found himself pondering why it was that Hermione was sticking up for Professor Lafayette. After all, it didn't seem they had anything in common, other than the fact they were both females.

Hermione was thinking about this exact same thing as she made her way to the dormitories, slowly calming herself down. She, honestly, didn't know why she had done that. She knew that she didn't particularly LIKE Miora. After all, she seemed rather bubbly, self-absorbed, and immature. She didn't feel sorry for her, since even the girls would now admit that she was very pretty. She couldn't even relate to her, since Hermione was sure that Miora had been one of the popular girls in Hogwarts, whereas she herself only had a few close friends. If all this is true, she thought, then why did I stand up for her?

Hermione sighed, and tried to shrug the thought away as she entered the common room and sank into her favorite chair in front of the fire. She stared into the fire, with its dancing flames, its glowing embers of deep reds and oranges, mystified. It was somehow soothing to her. The fires at Hogwarts just weren't like the ones at home. They had a therapeutic quality to them, and it seemed as though the warmth was slowly soothing her frazzled nerves and tired brain. Before then, she hadn't noticed that she wasn't alone in the common room. She looked over and saw a mass of blonde hair sticking out above the back of a nearby chair. She sunk down in her chair, hoping that Miora was asleep, hoping that she wouldn't notice her. After all, she was the last person Hermione wanted to talk to at the moment. But of course, she just wouldn't be blessed with that kind of luck.

"Hello, Hermione! What's wrong, dear? You look upset." She asked, getting up and sitting on the floor in front of Hermione, blocking her from seeing the fire.

"It's nothing, really." She replied, looking away.

"You don't expect me to believe that, now do you?"

"Well." Hermione began, desperately thinking of something to say. This woman's presence was grinding at her nerves, and yet she was somehow comforting. She had an odd, big-sister feel, even though Hermione couldn't stand her. "Yes. I did, actually"

"I don't. Out with it, Granger." She said, sounding mockingly like Prof. McGonagall. Hermione reluctantly cracked a smile, and explained everything to her, even though she didn't know why. After all, she wants one to open up easily, and she had only known Miora for about a day. There was just something about her that made Hermione know she was trustworthy. Miora, after hearing the story, comforted her, and also thanked her for defending her.

"I get that sort of stuff a lot." Miora said quietly. "You know, people see me, and they just see pretty, blonde, must be dumb. In fact, I don't think many people know this, but I got a perfect on my N.E.W.T.S."

"You did??" Hermione gaped at her for a second. "That's nearly impossible! How did you do it?-Oh, wait, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Miora smiled. "I know what you mean. And on how I did it, I studied my brains out for a week.but I was always a good student too. I was and AM, smart." She sighed. "But, it seems that the world can't connect blonde and intellectual. I remember when word got out about my N.E.W.T.S., can you believe people said I had slept my way to the score?!"

"No!" Hermione said disbelievingly. "They did? How heartless..."

"Thanks." Miora said, grinning. "It was nice talking to you. You're a smart girl, Hermione." She then stood up and walked out of the common room, as people began filtering in. Hermione, a tad confused by what had just happened, stood up, gathered her books, and set out for her next class.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Ok, that's my third chapter.the next one might not be up for a few days, sorry..