A/N: I have not forgotten any of my stories... to all who wrote such kind reviews and responses, thank you for your continued support. Many changes have happened in the last few years and it's taken me time to get through and on top of them all. I hope I will have more space and time for continuing all three of my current works-in-progress.

Hermione groaned in appreciation as her tired body sank into the welcoming embrace of hot, fragrant water.

Initially, she had been hesitant to abuse the Headmistress' invitation to continue using the fifth floor prefect's bathroom, but after her long day had concluded, her muscles were aching and nothing had sounded better than to sink into a bath and forget about her plans for a few hours.

For a few blissful minutes there was nothing but the sound of gently rippling water and playful tinkling of glass as the mermaid in the window preened amidst the soft halo of candlelight. Her thoughts were suspended, drifting between moments of her conversation with Minerva and thinking about the coming days and all of the new changes laying in wait. Behind everything, Hermione felt a pervasive sense of uncertainty that maybe she had truly taken on more than she could handle.

She lifted a weary hand, watching the water droplets twinkle gently in the firelight as they slid down her wrist. It felt so good to be encased in warm water. Her body still felt slightly off-kilter, readjusting to the time difference, weather, food… Hogwarts had once felt as familiar to her as picking up a wand, but this time, it was taking longer for her body to sink back into the environment she had once known so well.

Approaching footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway, and Hermione's heart sank slightly even as she waved her fingers to summon her bathing suit. While nudity was something that no longer bothered her, Hermione knew that her native culture largely thought otherwise.

She sat quietly, waiting to see which prefect or Quidditch captain would soon be arriving to disturb her.

A moment later a dark-robed figure with yellow trim appeared to her left and looked down at her with a small frown. It took a moment to remember the girl's name, but a moment later she realized it was the current Head Girl, Mona Ahmadi.

"Granger," the girl said by way of greeting, "Wasn't aware you were allowed in here."

Dark eyes regarded her coolly, though the distinct lack of venom in the statement indicated the witch had yet to pass judgment upon her. Hermione was briefly thankful that this year's Head Girl wasn't in Gryffindor or things could have been significantly more awkward.

"Being old has its privileges," Hermione replied tiredly, unwilling to say more on the matter. She lifted a hand from beneath the bubbles and gestured toward the pool, "You are more than welcome to join me, of course."

From the set of the witch's posture and the towel draped over one arm, it seemed she hadn't been the only one with a bath in mind.

"Thanks."

Hermione allowed her eyes to shut again, listening absently as the witch's footsteps carried her in the direction of the women's changing room. There was the expected rustling of robes and sound of shoes being shucked off.

She remained enclosed in stillness until she finally heard Mona return, waiting until she heard a slight splash and felt a telltale ripple in the water's surface to indicate that the witch had entered the bathtub. There was nothing more awkward than watching someone get settled in water.

After hearing a soft sigh of relief, Hermione opened her eyes and smiled politely at the younger witch across from her.

"What is this combination?" Mona asked curiously, sniffing the air, "It's quite soothing," A dark arm lifted and nimble fingers tested consistency, "And the water feels different too."

"Eucalyptus, vanilla, and jojoba oil," Hermione smiled lazily and pointed at the various taps, "And I may or may not have brought my own blend of salts."

"Nice."

They lapsed into comfortable silence and Hermione felt a flash of curiosity when it seemed that the other witch was content to simply leave her to her own thoughts. Shapely arms rose above the water and brushed black hair away from the climbing bubbles, sighing in appreciation before finding a comfortable position.

"Thank you for reaching out to our cub, by the way," Mona said quietly, fingers skimming the bubbles absently, "Several of us have noticed that you've been looking out for her."

Hermione allowed herself a genuine smile.

"No thanks are needed," she replied warmly, "Fiona is a lovely young woman. She reminds me a lot of myself when I was her age."

Hermione's lashes fluttered lightly and her voice grew soft as she adjusted her neck against the edge of the large pool, "Being a first-year Muggleborn at Hogwarts is much more challenging than a majority tend to realize. I just want her to feel safe and comfortable."

Dark brows drew together in confusion.

"I wasn't aware you were Muggleborn," Mona said quietly, giving Hermione a familiar searching look that revealed her own purer blood status. She always recognized the mix of sympathy and confusion.

"Yes, well… they still tend to downplay that fact in most articles and publications," Hermione replied, a tinge of bitterness coloring her voice, "If you had read the papers leading up to and through the War, you would have seen a good amount of racist discussion about it. Took me a number of years to earn a thick skin."

Mona replied with a non-committal hum.

"I suppose I don't really remember. The Prophet was banned from our house during the War," she replied easily, twisting her hair and sticking her wand in place to hold it.

"Probably better," Hermione muttered, unable to help herself. Mona sniffed lightly and tipped a smile.

"I don't doubt it. I much prefer to meet people and create my own opinions of them rather than reading what others write. Anyway, it seems you're nothing like I imagined."

Hermione remained silent, gazing across the broad bathtub to look at the girl sitting opposite her with a bit of appreciation. She hadn't expected to have a heart to heart with the witch, but nonetheless, there they were - sitting opposite one another in a bath, and Hermione realized she felt a stirring of gratitude for the witch's conversation.

"What did you imagine, then?"

"Someone a bit more open, I guess. You seem more Slytherin than Gryffindor, to be honest… I still can't decide why you thought returning was a good idea. Frankly, it seems to be more trouble than it's worth, and rather lonely for you," Mona replied. "But, it is reassuring to see that you're different."

"How do you mean?"

"If you were as arrogant as the papers write, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Thank you, I think."

Mona's round face split into a wide smile as her hands captured a rather large puff of bubbles.

"A number of my fellow badgers feel that you are rather cold or standoffish. However now that I'm here, that doesn't really seem to be the case. Closed, sure… but this must be strange for you."

Hermione twirled her fingers in a clump of bubbles absently.

"My fellow Gryffindors would be eternally shamed to hear such gossip of my character," she said after a long moment, "My friends used to say that I wore my heart on my sleeve. I suppose I've changed a bit since I left."

"Why did you return? If you don't mind my asking, that is," Mona asked curiously, her expression open and warm.

Hermione stilled, surprised that the witch had the courage to ask. Wasn't bravery supposed to be a Gryffindor trait?

Still… badgers. Tough and unafraid of toil...

"I do mind," Hermione replied, electing to go with an honest response, "Though since you've avoided asking the more annoying questions, I suppose it's simply because I felt I had unfinished business here at Hogwarts. I dropped my entire life here in order to pursue a different kind of challenge after the War… a reset if you will, and while it was a thrilling and exhilarating experience, I always knew it would have been wrong of me to stay away and not finish what I started. I owe a debt of gratitude to this castle and its many inhabitants."

Mona sat forward, one rounded kneecap appearing above the water as she rested her elbow upon it thoughtfully.

"Must be hard," she commented. There was no judgment or pity in the statement, just quiet curiosity.

Hermione hummed quietly and let her eyes close halfway. The girl was drawing out more maudlin thoughts and she didn't need to entertain them yet.

A moment later Mona cocked her head and blew upon a few bubbles in her hands.

"Well… I'll have to keep an eye on my fellow badgers, then. They'll be happy to find out that the Gryffindor Princess is human after all."

"That is the most absurd nickname I've ever been given," Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes in exasperation before allowing her head to rest upon the rounded edge of the tub. Mona chuckled, blowing a few more bubbles absently as she smiled.

"Well, at least they consider you royalty. You could've been the Gryffindor Plebe."

Hermione sat up slightly in surprise, catching the witch's lifted brows and half-smile.

Unexpectedly, she found herself laughing in response and Mona seemed visibly pleased as Hermione shook her head in disbelief. The witch reclined back, extending dark arms along the edge of the broad tub as she pinned Hermione with a rather shrewd look.

"I think you should talk more. With the others, I mean…" Mona said quietly, "I know it's only been a few days, but maybe try to relax a bit. Let them know you're approachable. "

"I don't have anything to prove to anyone," Hermione replied amusedly.

"Well that's not true, or you would have already taken your N.E.W.T.s and moved on with your life," Mona challenged, peering at her with an oddly perceptive expression, "Maybe you came back because Hogwarts feels like home to you. Or maybe you didn't know where else to go. That's kind of how I feel right now… y'know, with graduation coming up. I wish I could stay at Hogwarts forever…"

Hermione blinked quietly, feeling a rush of blood to her cheeks and abnormally tight sensation across her chest. She briefly wondered if the witch was some sort of Seer.

Fortunately, Mona was content to move on.

"So. Rumor has it that you're not taking Potions, which tells me that you've already tested out of it. Any chance you're good at tutoring? Professor Slughorn has us planning advanced brews for the end of the term and I could use a good tutor."

"How do you know that I'm not simply dreadful?" Hermione asked, lifting a brow slightly.

The younger witch snorted indelicately.

"You know you look a bit like the Headmistress when you do that?" Mona commented, tilting her head slightly, "And I made Head Girl for a reason, Granger. Potions might not be my strong suit, but I'm not completely unobservant. You're not dreadful at Potions and we both know it."

At once, Hermione was appreciative of Hufflepuffs and their effortless ability to communicate honestly with others - without all the added Gryffindor bluster and ego. It was also a skill to ask for help when it was needed… and Hermione found herself appreciating that as well. It was something she had yet to learn.

Straightforward conversation reminded her of her master, for all her wily ways and cunning. It felt comfortable and reassuring, and Hermione felt a brief pang of homesickness. A sassy comment like that reminded her of her master's youngest daughter, Avishag, and Mona's dark features were briefly replaced with a much younger face, regarding her in playful challenge.

She sat forward and flicked a puff of bubbles across the bath.

"Call me Hermione," she replied quietly, feeling almost shy.

Mona shifted and gave her a surprised smile.

"See? That wasn't so hard."

Emmalie Merritt frowned and sucked on the tip of her quill as she tried her best to absorb the long, boring columns of text that seemed to stretch on for pages upon pages upon pages...

"Upon pages and pages…" she mumbled, scowling as she realized she still had over two more chapters left to go. Making a noise of disgust, Emmalie tossed her book on the table near her side and kicked her feet up so they could rest on the low table.

"Oy, firstie. Get your feet off the table… people eat there!"

A loud voice from the fireplace pulled her from her sullen thoughts. A fourth-year student. What was his name? Biggs? Briggins?

Emmalie rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Sorry," she snapped testily, yanking her feet off and wrapping her robes around closer.

The boy sent her a glare and then turned back to his friends who were engrossed in what appeared to be a high stakes game of Wizards' chess. There were a number of Chocolate Frogs on the table. After he turned away, Emmalie made a childish face in his direction before slumping back in her chair. At least the Common Room chairs were good for sulking.

"What's eating you?" Sam Watanabe plopped into a nearby chair with some sort of Muggle snack she didn't recognize.

"Potions," Emmalie grumbled in reply, tossing her braids over one shoulder. "I can't read anymore about phial sizes and cauldron types. It's so boooring."

"Really? I didn't think it was so bad… some of the history about the basic ingredients was kind of interesting. And cauldron set-up really made sense, y'know? Like I never would have thought about the importance of ingredients on the side of your wand arm and utensils to the other."

"Yeah, whatever… I remember learning basic cauldron set-up when I was like, six," Emmalie huffed, rolling her eyes.

Sam flushed slightly and looked away. At once she felt a wave of chagrin.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," Emmalie apologized, sitting forward slightly. "I just… forgot m'self for a second..."

"S'okay," Sam shrugged and threw another crispy looking thing in his mouth. "I can't really get upset every time I'm reminded I'm a Muggleborn. It happens a lot."

Emmalie managed a half-smile, not really knowing what to say. Sam just looked down at the Potions book between them and sighed, suddenly looking morose. Wanting to change the subject, Emmalie pointed to the strange bag in her friend's hand.

"What are those anyway?"

Despite her theatrically wrinkled nose, the crumply bag in her friend's hand smelled salty and decidedly interesting.

Sam stopped crunching and gave her a look.

"You can't tell me you've never had a crisp before?"

"What's a crisp? It's not like a dehydrated sock or something, is it?"

Sam gave a short disbelieving laugh and just shook his head.

"Just try one."

Wrinkling her nose again, Emmalie reached into the bag and pulled out… a crisp. Sniffing it, she detected some sort of oil, before popping it into her mouth. It made a delightful crunching sensation. She felt her eyes widen.

"Yoooo… blimey! What are these made of? D'you have more?"

Sam's almond eyes crinkled at the corners and he laughed again in a way that was kind of cute.

"For sure. My folks sent me a whole trunkful. I live off snacks like these. They're not healthy by any means, but sometimes you just gotta have that crunch, y'know?"

Emmalie grabbed another, deciding that the crinkling bag was also a fun part of the experience. She squeezed it experimentally in delight before tossing it back to her friend. She gave an emphatic point.

"Ugh… that's boss that!"

Sam crunched for a moment, chuckling in amusement before waving the bag.

"Did you talk to Fiona earlier?"

"A little bit at dinner, why?"

Sam shrugged and sat back, a hair from putting his feet on the table between them and then shooting a look at the upperclassmen sitting across the way.

"She told me she had a really cool study session with Hermione about Potions. I think I'm going to see if I can join in next time."

Emmalie chewed for a moment and then swallowed, taking a look around the Common Room.

"Yeah, I heard she had a good time. Seems no one knew that Granger was a Potions genius. Although to be honest, I don't know why everyone's so surprised… I mean it's not like she was sitting on her arse when they were on the run from You-Know-Who, like… Granger was clearly the brains, if you ask-"

"Why'd'you call her that?" Sam interrupted with a frown, waving his bag at her.

Emmalie paused and frowned, "Call who what?"

"Granger, by her last name."

Emmalie sighed for a moment and thought.

"Dunno… I guess it's like a mark of respect. That's what all the upperclassmen call her anyway."

Sam popped another crisp in his mouth and frowned again before offering the bag.

"But she asked us to call her Hermione. If I call her by her last name I feel like it's kind of… you know, taking away the whole 'big sister' thing."

Emmalie almost rolled her eyes, but simply huffed and sat forward to grab another crisp.

"But Sam, she's Hermione Granger. She's not our big sister… she's like, y'know? A war hero. She and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley basically took out You-Know-Who single handedly," Emmalie exclaimed, gesturing for emphasis.

She blew a stray braid out of her face and thought for a moment, staring off towards the fireplace as she remembered the spontaneous choice she had made only a few days prior.

"D'you know that the only reason I sat across from her at the Welcome Feast was because Addison Mervins dared me to?"

Sam stopped crunching for a moment and raised a brow.

"Truth. Mervins dared me when we were waiting in line and she then was being such a snit about it and being all, 'oh my god, Hermione Granger!' and then at some point I decided I was going to go for it, because honestly, what better way to ensure I'd end up in Gryffindor? Ha. So the hat took like two seconds… and well, Addison actually dared me to sit next to Granger, but when I left the stool, I sort of chickened out at the last second and ended up across from her. But, whatever... I never thought she'd like, be nice."

Emmalie gulped for breath.

"And then, she like… actually talked to me! She started goin' off about Hogwarts and classes and the professors and such… and then Luzzy and you showed up and y'know, I still don't get it. Like, what do we matter to her after all the things she's done? We're like ants next to her! She broke into the Department of Mysteries and Gringotts before leaving Hogwarts! She's a legend! And then everyone knows she disappeared and went off to do gods know how many other cool things!"

Sam waved a crisp and coughed for a second before sitting forward too.

"Yeah, but she's been nothing but nice and helpful to us since the Feast. I get that she's a huge figure in the Wizarding world and such… and I get that I don't fully understand what all of it means, but at the end of the day she's also just a student too."

Emmalie shook her head emphatically, beads tinkling in her ears.

"Nope, no… she's not," she sat forward slightly and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Haven't you heard all the rumors circulating? No one of her age and status has ever come back to Hogwarts. Ever. There's like, literally no reason for her to be here. Haven't you seen how… y'know, adult she is? Everything she does is like, correct and professional. And everyone knows she's like, The smartest witch of her age."

Emmalie made a smacking noise with her tongue and leaned forward again, her braids clattering in one ear.

"Everyone's saying it's bollocks that she came back at all. They're saying that she's hiding from the government or that she somehow royally screwed up her final N.E.W.T.s and has to re-sit them. Personally, I think the latter is bollocks… which means she came back to Hogwarts to hide out or something. Maybe she's on some sort of Ministry black list or something."

Sam's lips twisted for a moment and he took a moment to glance at the other students milling around the room.

"Okay, well… I still think that whatever the reason, if she wants to be nice and help us out… what's the big deal? We can be friends with her, can't we?"

Emmalie almost rolled her eyes, but simply laughed and sat back instead, letting her cheek fall on one hand.

"Ahh, Sam, love. Sometimes it's so refreshing you haven't grown up in this world."

Her friend's cheeks reddened a little bit but Sam just shrugged.

"Whatever… I figure that I need all the help that I can get these days. Hermione might be a legend like you say, but everything she's shown in the last few days shows me that she's just a good person. And you know, after talking with her, I really feel like I can trust her. She's Muggleborn too, you know? She gets it."

At that, Emmalie found herself gazing at Sam with a tender sort of smile. She opened her mouth to reply when the Common Room suddenly grew very quiet and she looked over to see the very witch in question, stepping out of the portrait hole wearing a set of casual black robes that made her seem mature and elegant.

Why don't robes ever look as floaty on me?

Everyone seemed to be watching the witch as she turned and took note of the nearly silent room.

"Evening."

The word was murmured with a hint of warning and while no one seemed to dare to reply, the conversations restarted even as Emmalie noted a number of appraising eyes following the witch as she made her way toward the girls' tower.

"Hi Hermione!"

Part of Emmalie wanted to facepalm as her friend twisted to say hello with a shining, hopeful expression on his face. Another part of her preened as the elegant witch paused and graced them both with a soft smile. She seemed sort of tired.

"Hello, you two. How is everything going?"

A chance to impress at her hands, Emmalie felt her Gryffindor confidence suddenly bubbling up from nowhere. She felt her mouth open and the words came tumbling out.

"Ah… y'know. Just trying to get through these first Potions chapters before tomorrow. Don't want to get on Professor Malfoy's bad side in the first week, yeah? Study, study! Sam just made me try a crisp, you ever had one?"

Idiot.

At that, Hermione Granger's face broke into a genuine smile and she gestured at Sam to pass the bag.

"Walker's salt and vinegar? Give me."

Sam was grinning widely and he laughed as Emmalie watched in disbelief as the witch inserted a slender hand into the bag and emerged with a full handful. She popped one in her mouth and gave a small sigh of pleasure.

"Oh, I missed these."

"Nothing like a crisp, am I right?" Sam piped up happily, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Granger sighed in apparent appreciation before shooting her friend a smile.

"Nothing like a crisp," she agreed. "I haven't had one in ages. Thanks for sharing, Sam."

Sam caught Emmalie's eye as he leaned back in satisfaction, clearly chuffed at having succeeded to win over Granger's attention for a moment.

"No problem. My parents practically sent me a trunkful of snacks… crisps and biscuits and stuff. The owl thing took a bit for them to catch onto, but now I reckon they feel like actual zookeepers with Merlin going back and forth between here and home… Merlin's my long-eared owl," Sam's eyes were shining as he explained.

"The moment I brought him home from Diagon Alley, my dad couldn't stop going off and talking about him as if he were the Crocodile Hunter… he made Merlin a little perch in the corner of our kitchen, and I'd catch him fawning over him, all, 'crikey, look 'ere we've got a magnificent specimen from the family Strigidae. What an imposin' stare on this lil' fella, ay? Let's see if this lil' guy wants some worms! You want some worms, buddy?!"

Granger actually laughed out loud as Sam gestured animatedly, feigning an Australian accent, and drawing a few stares of curiosity as while Emmalie half-chuckled in response, feeling both self-conscious and somewhat left out of the joke.

It didn't help a moment later when Sam added for her benefit, "Oh, the Crocodile Hunter… it's a TV show! Just a Muggle thing..."

Emmalie nodded and tried to shrug off her discomfort, choosing to shoot a snarky look at a pair of inquisitive second-years goggling from across the room. The offending faces quickly returned to their revisions.

Granger finished chuckling and wiped one eye.

"I had a half-Kneazle once… Crookshanks," she started in reply. "I tried my best to explain the characteristics of a Kneazle to my mum, but whenever I would visit for the hols, I'd hear her in the mornings talking to him, 'you're a sneaky boy… I told you last night, no cats on the bed! And yet here you are again. You know that John is allergic to you!"

Emmalie and Sam both chuckled. Granger smiled, before straightening up slightly and Emmalie had the feeling that the older witch was a moment away from excusing herself for the evening. Wanting to delay the inevitable, she blurted out a question.

"Do you still have pets? I mean, you don't still have Crookshanks with you, do you?"

"Sadly, Crookshanks was a casualty of the Battle of Hogwarts," Granger replied softly, waving away Emmalie's expression of mortification.

Genius, you just had to say something!

"It's all right… he had a good run. Since him though, I haven't really had the time or space for a pet. Perhaps now is the time, however. I'll have to consider it."

Quashing her immediate curiosity at the last statement, Emmalie hummed, mind frantically trying to think of something else she could say or ask to prolong the interaction. Fortunately for her, Sam spoke first.

"Well, er… I know you're probably really busy these days… but actually I was wondering if I could join in on your next Potions session with Fiona? She mentioned it was really helpful and I, er… already think I could do with some added review," Sam's cheeks flushed slightly alongside his request and Emmalie was briefly impressed by her friend's courage in asking for assistance.

Granger seemed surprised by the question as she opened her mouth and closed it once before her expression shifted into something almost mischievous. A long finger came up to tap at full lips thoughtfully.

"Hmm… I admit that had you asked yesterday, I would have agreed rather easily. However, there are going to be some changes happening very soon that might mitigate the need for such sessions."

Emmalie and Sam immediately made eye contact, earning a soft chuckle of amusement from Granger, who simply crossed her arms.

"Changes? How d'you mean?" Emmalie demanded, taking care not to raise her voice too much.

Granger shrugged impishly and pressed her hip off of Emmalie's chair with a smile that seemed to indicate she wasn't about to divulge anything further.

"For now, I suggest you review the second chapter of Magical Drafts and Potions one more time and pay special attention to the footnotes. Come find me sometime next week if you still have lingering concerns."

Sam nodded dutifully, clearly not reassured by the witch's response although he gave a small smile. Granger smiled at him kindly before squeezing him on the shoulder and stepping away.

"Well on that note, I best be off to see to my own revisions," she said warmly. "Have a good night… and thanks for the crisps, Sam."

They both bid their good nights to the witch and watched as she turned and soon disappeared up the staircase towards the girl's dormitories. As soon as it was clear that Granger was gone, Emmalie practically pounced on Sam.

"Wha'd'you think she meant by 'changes'?" she hissed, leaning forward and poking her friend in the ribs.

"Agh! I dunno!"

Sam's forehead wrinkled as he batted her away and flopped back in his seat, crumpling the empty bag and shoving it into a pocket.

"Changes? Maybe they'll change the first year curriculum and remove Potions all together," he grumped.

Emmalie ignored her friend's morose tone and soldiered on.

"Don't be a wet broomstick! She said, and I quote, 'there are going to be some changes happening very soon that might mitigate the need for such sessions'," she repeated, enunciating the words just like the witch had.

Sam just stared at her.

"C'mon! That's got to mean they're going to use her for something!" Emmalie trilled, tossing her braids over one shoulder as she looked around the room for a moment. Fortunately everyone else seemed to be involved in their own conversations.

"Why else do you think she would have been so opaque about it?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, expression rather dubious.

"I mean… I don't know how things work. Would they let a student teach Potions?"

Emmalie rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, obviously not! Even that's shooting high… professors have to have completed a Mastery in their discipline in order to teach at Hogwarts… er, I guess that's like a higher degree. Sort of. But harder," Emmalie explained, seeing her friend's blank stare.

"A Mastery is like… for geniuses only. Granger's good, but not even she's that good. Nahh, I'm thinkin' that maybe they'll let her create a Potions club, or some sort of actual study group. You know, like acknowledging her skills and such? Maybe give her space to you know… keep being like an important figure or something."

"You would join a Potions club?" Sam asked bemusedly, crossing his arms and clearly content to let her finish her whirlwind of thoughts. Emmalie made a face.

"Gods, no! I mean… well?"

Sam laughed as she tripped over her thoughts for a moment, brought up short from her momentary high as her brain actually caught up with her mouth.

"For Granger, you might," he concluded. Emmalie fought not to blush, wiping her nose on the back of one sleeve to cover for a moment. It was a pain being so obvious.

"Yeah, well… hey, I thought you wanted to call her Hermione."

Sam rolled his eyes at her, shooting her some sort of look that she couldn't interpret before rising.

"Well, whatever the changes are, I hope you're right," he said quietly, taking a glance around the room before looking back at her. "I mean, I kind of liked the idea of having a small study session with just Hermione and Fiona, but if you think she'll get some good recognition for it, I guess changes could be good. I mainly just want to feel more confident in Potions and not like I'm the only one who doesn't understand what's going on."

Emmalie felt her heart soften a bit, again surprised at her friend's openness. Maybe it's a Muggleborn thing?

"Sam, it's still the first week. You'll be alright," she replied warmly, giving her friend an encouraging smile.

Sam smiled in reply and gave a little half shrug of one shoulder.

"Goodnight, Emmalie," he extended a hand and she reached out to clasp it just as another lightning bolt hit her brain.

"OOH! Maybe they'll let her bring back Dumbledore's Army!" she crowed, earning her an eye roll and a shake of an arm.

"Goodnight, Emmalie."

"Right. 'Night, Sam!"

Grinning widely, she watched her friend make his way towards the boys' staircase, waving at her over one shoulder as she internally kicked herself that she hadn't thought of the idea straightaway. Where was Luz when she needed her?

Dumbledore's Army! It's perfect!

"Gods, I love a good drama!" Emmalie whispered to herself.