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The library was always a place of comfort to Hermione. Whenever she had a problem during her school days, which was quite often, or when she felt confused or angry or sad, it was a constant solution. Was there a Charms concept she didn't understand? Well, there was an entire section just asking to be read, to help her make sense of even the most minute details of magical theory. Was Ron being lazy, asking to copy off her when she had done all the hard work? Or was he being tactless and bickering with her over things she was sensitive about? The library offered a refuge. He wouldn't follow her in there if he could help it; it smelled too much like productiveness, and Madam Pince was not an experience for the faint of heart. Just getting there from all the way across the castle was a good way to let off steam, and finding the perfect book to lose herself in when she did was the best way to forget. She could stay there for hours in a little window nook, surrounded by her work. Books were safe. They were logical. A book wouldn't call you names, or throw a spell at you. Instead, it would offer you all the help you wanted. All you had to do was open the cover.

For Hermione, the library represented security. So that was where she found herself after the disastrous staff meeting. Tucked away behind the curtains of a window nook deep in the library's corner, Hermione leaned her forehead against the glass. She gazed out onto the grounds, not really seeing. Rather, she let the haze of golden sunlight reflecting off the lake and the familiar, comforting scent of old parchment combine and lull her into a numbing daze.

Or she would have, had she not been interrupted by her curtain being ripped open and a small robed figure jumping up onto her seat, practically landing in her lap. Too stunned to voice a coherent sentence, Hermione merely let out an indignant "Merlin!" and started so hard that the intruder, thoroughly surprised himself, fell to the floor in a heap.

"Ow," the pile of robes on the floor groaned. Hermione quickly tucked away her wand, having whipped it out on the war-conditioned reflex that, chances were, a surprise would not be in your favor. Pressing her hand to her chest and breathing deeply to slow her racing heartbeat, she asked the bundle, "Are you okay? You really should check enclosed spaces for other people before you jump right in." A note of chastisement laced her voice.

"I'm so sorry, Professor!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise as Jasper emerged from the pile on the floor and looked up at her with eyes widened in embarrassment. "I didn't think that there would be anyone here, with it being breakfast still." He rubbed a bruised elbow ruefully. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have bothered you." Jasper's voice lowered in shame, and Hermione detected a tinge of hurt, as well.

Hermione sighed. If she was going to be Gryffindor Head of House as well as a professor, she might as well start now with Jasper. True, he wasn't a member of her house, but he needed someone to make sure he was all right, and she wasn't at all sure he would get that with the other students. Slytherins weren't known for their concern for others, and the inter-house tension would be near breaking point. She didn't even know who was Slytherin Head of House. She hoped to high heaven that it wasn't Malfoy. Surely McGonagall had more sense than that. The other teachers had a lot on their plates with picking up the extra classes. Hadn't McGonagall said something yesterday about a general unwillingness to take up posts? Had it really only been yesterday that she had agreed to this whole mess? It seemed like an age.

Jasper groaned a little standing up, derailing her train of thought. She frowned and asked, "Why aren't you at breakfast? It's the first day of school, and you'll need your strength. Besides, you'll miss the post, and what if there's something for you?"

Jasper's face twisted into a curious mix of hurt and defiance. "I don't think there'll be anything for me, Professor." Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?" His voice wavered as he said, "Because my family doesn't want me anymore."

Hermione felt a horrible twist in her chest and she rushed to comfort the near-crying boy. "I'm sure that's not true! Your family loves you! Why on earth wouldn't they?" she patted the seat next to her and conjured a tissue box as Jasper jumped onto the seat and sniffled.

"Because I'm Slytherin! I'm part of the bad house! Y-Y-You-Know-Who was from there, and now everyone is going to hate me, too." He swiped viciously at his cheek and avoided Hermione's gaze.

Hermione tried to reason with him. "But you can't have heard from them already, the Sorting was only last night and you weren't there for the post this morning."

Jasper slumped miserably. "I have a sister here. She's in Ravenclaw. Last night she told me that sh-she didn't want people to be mean to her for having a brother in Slytherin. So I told her that I had met you, The Hermione Granger, and that you thought it wasn't such a bad thing." Hermione smiled gently at him. She hated using her name to throw her weight around, but if any cause were worthy, it was this one. "I meant it, Jasper. Truly." Jasper finally met her eyes with his own, which were bright with tears. "Jade, my sister, got mad and said that because I'm a part of the evil house, now I'm your enemy and my f-family's enemy." Getting this out, Jasper burst into full on tears and leaned into Hermione's open arms.

Comprehension dawned on Hermione as she tried to soothe the disconsolate boy. Jade was the girl McGonagall had sent to bring her to the meeting. No wonder she had seemed so uncomfortable; she was face-to-face with an element of her argument with her brother the previous night. Hermione hurt for Jasper. He had grown up with a dark wizard reigning, and then faced moving away from his family to a boarding school. A school for magic, no less. And then he was told by his own sister that he had become what everyone feared, through a sorting he couldn't control? Hermione couldn't imagine how terrifying that would be. She was no stranger to loneliness, nor was she unfamiliar with being an outcast, but the double injustice of his situation was both infuriating and depressing.

Hermione let Jasper give vent to his tangled emotions until his sobs began to subside. With one last pat on the back, she pulled away so she could look him in the eye.

"Jasper, I want you to look at me, and I want you to listen," Hermione said seriously. Jasper nodded, and with a few suppressed hiccups and one solid blow into a tissue later, he turned to face her, his eyes red-rimmed and watery.

"It's okay to be sad. It's okay to be hurt. It's okay to be angry. People are going to let you down. Your family, your friends, and your professors will all disappoint you. It's just a part of life."

Jasper frowned, clearly not seeing how this was supposed to cheer him up.

Hermione let out a small smile. "The important thing to remember is that what those people think about you, what they say about you, does not matter."

Jasper frowned deeper and said, "You're saying I shouldn't listen to professors?"

Hermione looked scandalized and shook her head. "Of course not! What I'm saying is that their opinions don't have to define who you are." Seeing him look more confused than ever, she decided to give an example. "Take me, for instance. The first two months I ever had here, everyone disliked me. They thought I was bossy and stuck-up, and they couldn't be bothered with me except to make fun of my hair or the way I answered questions."

"But everyone seems to like you now."

"That's because I stayed true to who I was, and it turned out that I was just the person they needed. The real me; not the me I changed because they hurt me, or the me I became when I wanted to fit in. What I'm trying to say is that you are different, Jasper."

Jasper slouched. "Gee, thanks."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione continued, "That's a good thing. Yesterday, you stopped on the stairs to see if I, a stranger, was all right. Not everyone would do that." Seeing Jasper scoff lightly, she interjected, "I'm serious! Anyone who sees the real you won't care whether or not you prize ambition over courage, or loyalty over creativity."

Seeing him raise his eyebrows in apparent doubt, Hermione sighed. "Just trust me. You'll find your place soon. And, if you're like me, it might not be quite the way you expect."

Jasper gave a hint of a smile in response, and Hermione took that as her cue to move on. "Come on, you need to get your schedule. They'll have already handed them out at breakfast, so I'll walk you to the Headmistress's office."

Jasper hopped off the window seat and faced Hermione. He cleared his throat and looked at the ground. "I, uh…thanks, Professor."

Hermione let a smile through and nudged him forward with her elbow. "Let's get moving. What do you think your first class will be?" At that, anticipation flooded his face, and he chattered away about what he'd read in his Transfiguration text and how he'd chosen between a pewter or copper cauldron.

Hermione listened to him with increasing nostalgia, and let herself be carried back into her memories of new robes and fresh books and her first trip into the magical world. She tried not to mourn, but instead to remember.