"What do you think?" Hermione asked Dr. Nakamura. Her Magizoology Professor held office hours in the mornings and Hermione decided to take advantage of both the hours and her teacher's guilt for presuming her dead.

"I think it's a wonderful organization," said the vampire with a small smile. "Why did it take you so long to bring it up?"

"I was trying to get a vibe of the political climate here," she admitted. "I wanted to see how much I would need to fight before acting. What if I said, 'This group needs rights!' and everyone looked at me like I was crazy because they already had rights?"

"I see your point," said Dr. Nakamura thoughtfully. "Castelobruxo is in a bit of a bubble. Those with prejudice will make a stink every so often about Magical Beings being in teaching positions. Vampires, centaurs, giants, everyone deserves the right to be in society and get paid equal to wixen. Doña Claudia has been a real force in social activism. Did you know she even hires squibs? One of the history teachers is a squib and I think some of the magical theory classes are taught by squibs. Magical theory focuses on how spells are made rather than just casting them and is usually used to create new spells."

"I feel like I knew that at one point and forgot," said Hermione.

"Unfortunately, outside of this scholar town a lot of us don't have a place," said Dr. Nakamura. "I'm lucky that this campus has shops that are not allowed to discriminate based on…" She wobbled her hand searching for the right word, "...ethnicity. Everywhere else? They have the legal right to turn me away. My only other option for a career if I did not work here would be the bank or other accountant-type positions."

"Why the bank?"

"You know the story that to stop a vampire's pursuit of you, you must drop poppy seeds or bundles of straw."

"…yes?"

"It's true. Many of us have a compulsive need to count. The older vampires can tell how much something contains on sight, whereas new ones are just compelled to count."

"Like Sesame Street," said Hermione.

"Yes." Dr. Nakamura smiled. "I am also banned from entering the How-Many-Beans-Are-In-Jar raffles."

"Is… that a grievance?"

"No. Fair is fair."

Hermione scratched out what she wrote.

"Your fights are going to be different everywhere you go, Miss Sanchez," said Dr. Nakamura. "No one country is going to be a utopia. There will always be people trying to oppress others. I'm sure you already know that from personal experience."

Hermione nodded.

"I still have to try and make a difference," she said.

"I support that. If you'd like, I can help you start a club."

"What if I end up going to Uluru? Can I establish a club so late in the school year?" It was February. Everyone would already have their selected clubs.

"Why not?" Dr. Nakamura countered. "The graphic arts class will make you some posters for a fee and I'll spread the word to the attending students who are of magical being descent. We have selkies, veela, vampires, werecreatures, and I'm sure there are no shortage of students who would be willing to uplift their voices."

"Alright! Well, thank you. I should go ahead and see about printing posters and have someone on standby for pamphlets once I get their side and hear what they have to say."

"Let's see… I think you can start meetings in the plaza," said Dr. Nakamura. "Once you know how many members you'll have, you can book a classroom."

"Thank you for your help, Dr. Nakamura," said Hermione, standing up. "I should head to class."

"We are studying Jorōgumo in class today," said Dr. Nakamura. "As always, you are excused should you wish."

"What's a Jorōgumo?"

"It is a giant 400-hundred-year-old spider from—"

"Pass!" Hermione put on her backpack and hurried out.

"Mimi!"

She fished her mirror out of her pocket and opened it up.

"What's the emergency?" she asked.

"Who says there's an emergency?" Cedric replied.

"You're calling me at your lunch time," she pointed out and frowned. "What happened to your eye?"

It was swollen and… was that blood on his cheek?

"Well, it's not an emergency," he said, pointedly avoiding her question. "The article dropped. Skeeter's."

That was fast.

"Did she follow her end of the bargain?"

There was the sound of a magazine opening. Cedric skimmed it and nodded.

"Yeah. A couple things are embellished to make us seem more… woeful I guess, but it's the bonafide truth. Harry named all the Death Eaters who were there and confirmed that it was two of Greyback's followers who were there and who turned me but not Greyback himself."

"And?"

"Well, Umbridge isn't happy," he said. "Harry sassed her at breakfast and she very quickly put up a new educational decree that anyone caught with a copy of the Quibbler will receive detention."

Hermione grinned. "Well, that's the best way to guarantee everyone will read it."

"My thoughts exactly," he said. "Harry and I have been getting letters out the wazoo. A lot of people are starting to believe him and I think the general school population is gonna turn to his side by the end of the week."

She frowned. "What about you?"

He cringed. "Lots of Howlers… people calling me a liar and a filthy half-breed. And some people hexed me."

Hermione turned on her heel to go back to her dorm.

"Not on my watch," she growled. "I gotta go there and slap some sense into people!"

"Hermione, no!"

"Hermione, yes!"

"No! I'm so close to being done," he said. "Do you really think Umbridge isn't looking for any excuse to expel me? If my vigilante girlfriend swoops in, I could be expelled on the pretense that I brought you here. Plus, you're no longer a student. Umbridge could legally hurt you if she finds you a threat!"

He had a point. Hermione groaned and stomped her foot.

"I can't just sit here while you're being hurt. What are our friends doing?"

"Trying not to get on Umbridge's shitlist."

"It's not right."

"I know."

Hermione scrubbed the angry tears from her cheeks. "I'm starting a division of S.A.M.B. here. It does you no good right now, but if I can't help you, then I'm going to help someone."

"I'll be okay," he said. "Honest. It'll go by fast. How's the diary decryption coming?"

"Slowly," she sighed. "I can't seem to focus on anything lately."

"You've got this," he said. "I believe in you."

Her heart swelled with love for him.

"Hang in there," she said. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He hung up and she stuffed the mirror back in her pocket. She hardly paid attention in Horticulture, choosing instead to write out a declaration for S.A.M.B. in hopes that potential volunteers wouldn't be turned away. Viktor had given her a magazine containing an interview where he endorsed S.A.M.B. so hopefully she could use that too assuming his fame carried the same weight here as it did in Europe.

Instead of going to Magizoology, because there was no way in hell she was going to study a giant spider, she went to the art club. There was always something going on and students usually had the option to follow the lesson or use the hour as studio time.

She knew where the art building was since that's where she bought that anniversary gift for Cedric. The thing was just finding the right class. The rooms weren't labeled but she knew she could count out the rooms where people were sculpting or painting. She did come across a silk-screening class and filed that away. T-shirts would be a great way to advertise and raise funds. Finally, she found the graphic design class. It was pretty retro since they didn't have computers and the smell nearly knocked her off her feet.

"Er, hello," she said when the person closest to the door looked up from his project. "I was hoping to get some flyers printed for my organization."

He just stared at her and she wondered if maybe she spoke in English without thinking.

"I need flyers, please," she said. "There's a fee, yes?"

Nothing. She tried sign next.

"Me want F-L-Y-E-R. Can you help me?"

Frowning at the lack of response, she looked around the room.

"Is there anybody here that speaks Spanish, English, French, or Costa Rican sign language that can help me make and print out some flyers? I'll pay you."

"Yeah, I can help you," said one girl, waving her over.

Hermione skirted around the staring boy's workstation and went over to the girl. She had long, dark hair, piercing eyes, and sharp features. She was very pretty.

"I'm Márcia. Passing out or bulletin board?"

"I'm just going to post it on the bulletin boards," said Hermione, handing her a makeshift flyer she drew. "Maybe have the ones where you can rip off a stub with the meeting time and place?"

"Sam," she read aloud. "Sam… B.?"

"Actually, it's S.A.M.B." said Hermione. "Society for the Advancement of Magical Beings. It's a social activism group."

"Oh, yeah?" Márcia hummed. "Why not S.B.M.B.? Society for the Betterment of Magical Beings?"

"Because Betterment sounds like I might want to change them and their cultures," said Hermione. "But Advancement indicates that I want to strive for equity while still maintaining what makes them unique. Lift them up until the social barriers keeping them down are removed."

Márcia nodded. "I think it's a good cause. What's your focus group?"

"Um… I want both Magical Beings as well as volunteers to help amplify their voices."

"Are you part magical being?"

"No. This cause isn't to benefit me. I just want to help. Once my organization kicks off, I plan on putting actual Magical Beings in charge and then I just help out where my privilege will allow me."

Márcia nodded and got to work making the flyers, using her wand to arrange the pictures and change the font. It was really interesting, but like Esperanza's diamond spell, it made a weird smell.

"I like it. Sounds like you're off to a good start. Is there a membership fee?"

"So far I've been selling buttons for donations towards Wolfsbane potions." Hermione took out her tin and shook it, the coin inside rattling pitifully. "Mom has a donation tin at her shop. She's trying to see where she can raise prices though so that eventually she won't have to charge at all for the Wolfsbane Potions. The key ingredients are just really expensive, and unless she can find a grower to work with…"

"What's your goal for the first meeting?"

"I'm mostly hoping to meet people and acquire a list of grievances from them," said Hermione. "So far in the European division I have grievances listed for veela, house-elves, and werewolves. I tried getting Centaur grievances but they keep to themselves. For them, I just plan to help get their lands back and maybe then they'll talk to me about other grievances."

"European Centaurs must be different," said Márcia.

"Yeah, Mom said there's a difference between European and American werewolves as well."

"Do you know a werewolf?"

"My boyfriend is one," she said. "I hate seeing how people treat him. He wants to help people so much and they shun him, hex him, and torment him. The only reason I'm not there now is because people kept trying to kill me."

"For dating a werewolf?"

"No, other reasons."

"Huh. Who are your other members and where are they located?"

"Well, my boyfriend and his cousin, Luna, are leaders of the Britain division," said Hermione. "That's the division I wasn't able to take off. I didn't really think to start a division in Kilokilo, because I'm not really there long enough for it to gain traction. And then in Bulgaria is Viktor and his veela friends from the Sofia Lions dance team. Though, his efforts are more geared to solving the homelessness problem for a variety of peoples. I think maybe I could also start a division in Luesma if I can get one of my cousins in on it, though even if they are family, I don't want divisions being run without a Magical Being as a leader."

Márcia stilled. "Are you friends with Viktor Krum?!"

"Yeah. He was in my study group," she said. "He's cool."

"Wow…" Márcia cleared her throat and made copies of the flyers. "Well, I think if you tell everyone exactly what you told me, you should have plenty of people join."

The bell tolled and people started packing up to get to lunch.

"How much do I owe you for your time and effort?" Hermione asked, taking out her purse.

"Um… Fifty flyers… you provided a really good concept, which was easy to work with. But I'm also short on cash."

"How about two galleons and some pop rocks?" Hermione asked. That was about £50 and pounds to reals was a lot.

"Deal!"

Hermione handed over the money and candy and gathered up the flyers.

"If you'd like I can come with you and show you the best spots to hang those flyers," said Márcia, packing up her own supplies.

"Sure! That'd be great!"

"And while I'm at it I can tell you my grievances."

Márcia rose from her chair and stepped—no—slithered out from behind her work table. Instead of feet, she had a single, long snake tail. It was pretty with bright green scales that matched her uniform.

"Wicked!" Hermione whispered and got out her notebook. "Full name, pronouns if you're comfortable sharing them, ethnicity/culture, and grievances, please."

"Márcia Luscombe. She/her. I am Romani and cihuacoatl—oh, you probably just meant my being side."

"Both are helpful, especially in understanding culture," said Hermione. "For example: a Jewish Werewolf needs a different Wolfsbane recipe."

"Really?"

"A common fish egg is included," said Hermione. "It's not a lot, but it makes a potent potion. However, if there's blood in the egg then the batch isn't kosher. So if we have a kosher abiding werewolf then my Mom would need to make a special batch that substitutes some ingredients. It makes it more expensive to make, but she doesn't tell them that."

"Wow. You really know your stuff. I'm sorry, I don't think I asked your name."

"I'm Nia."

"Well, nice to meet you, Nia," said Márcia.

Hermione shook her hand. Márcia carried the flyers, posting one on the bulletin board of the art building while Hermione about herself.

"As I said I'm a cihuacoatl. Cihuacoatl is commonly known as the Aztec snake goddess, but we are also a race of snake-people. Shared goddess and all that. We originated in southern Mexico but slowly migrated throughout Central and South America in the last few centuries. The Amazon Rainforest has some of the last protected space for us to live. It's kinda hard to cover a snake tail from No-Majs and some of us manage with special wheelchairs, but at the same time most places aren't wheelchair accessible. I usually use a concealment charm to hide my tail."

"Yeah, it's like that everywhere," Hermione sighed, marking everything down in shorthand.

"I use a lot of parselmouth magic," Márcia continued. "And a lot of the ways I perform magic is not standard regulation, and if I get a particularly tough professor, I lose points. Doña Claudia does her best… but I feel bad about going to her so often, you know?"

"I understand," said Hermione. "You feel like the more you complain, the faster you reach the expiration date for their sympathy."

"Yes! Exactly! I think a lot of kids here feel that way. M.B.s or not. Other kids in other schools have it worse, I guess. Most of us wouldn't even be allowed in the schools of our own countries and we get a good education here."

"That doesn't invalidate how you feel now," said Hermione. "I went to one of the top No-Maj Academies in London, but the teachers and students hated me because of how different I was. I ended up getting expelled when I finally had enough and fought back."

"That bites."

"But I'm in a much better place now," said Hermione. "Yes, I was kidnapped by a dragon who mistook me for a baby and was presumed dead, but that's just another Tuesday for me. Stop me if I'm oversharing."

"I don't mind. I don't actually have a lot of friends," she said. "I think my tail freaks them out. There was one girl who would talk to me. She was actually a mythic bitch, so I was a little cautious even though she was nice to me."

"Who?"

"Esperanza Sanchez. She's that girl who's starting to become famous. Maybe you've heard her album?"

"She's my cousin."

Márcia choked and waved her hands. "I mean, I admired her, don't get me wrong! I would've given anything to push back like she did and she really started getting sweeter as time went on, but well…"

"No, it's fine," said Hermione, able to see how Esperanza could've had a mean streak. "I've just only known her as sweet. Her favored method nowadays is kill 'em with kindness."

She laughed and looked relieved. "Um, anyway, I try to make friends, but I seem to have a talent for eating my own tail."

"Well, I'm always open to make new friends," said Hermione. "And for what it's worth, your tail is beautiful."

"Thank you!"

Hermione and Márcia chatted more as they put posters up on bulletins on the boards in all major buildings, half of the dorms that Márcia knew housed those of magical being descent, including Hermione's own dorm, and on the boards just along the wall to where kids lined up in the mess hall.

"There we go," said Márcia, tacking the last one up. "That should get the word around about the meeting at the plaza."

"Thank you so much for your help, Márcia," said Hermione. "Do you want to sit with me and my family for lunch? You can tell me more about yourself. Totally non-S.A.M.B. related."

Márcia lit up.

"Yes! Of course! Um, what are you doing after dinner tonight?"

"Breaking this secret code in this diary I found in the floorboards of my friend's house," said Hermione. "If it ends up being a code within a code, I'm going to cry."

"Don't give up! You got this!" said Márcia, giving her two thumbs up.

"That's actually really motivational," said Hermione, spirits lifted.

"Thank you. I practice really hard so when I do finally make friends I can support them."

"Hey! I do that, too," said Hermione. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at it though."

"I'll teach you sometime."

"Definitely."

"Oh, Nia, you made a friend," said Bianca.

"Everyone, this is Márcia," said Hermione. "I hope it's okay that I invited her to sit with us."

"Sure," said Noa. "Park it anywhere."

Introductions were passed around and conversation picked up like normal. Josefina was a bit shier than usual, but she got that way around new people. Márcia was really sweet and Hermione was glad to make a new friend. She thought about writing to Cedric, but decided the last thing he needed to hear was how great her life was going.

Later that evening, she figured out what to say and told him about her upcoming S.A.M.B. meeting and asked if he'd like to attend via the mirror. He agreed, which she was happy about.

She just wished she could help him.

~o0o~

The first meeting for S.A.M.B. was Thursday evening. The plaza was rarely used on Thursdays. Hermione set up a table with a banner announcing the S.A.M.B. meeting. On the table she had a sign-up sheet, the wolfsbane donation tin, a container full of buttons in various colors, and her compact mirror set up so Cedric could see and contribute to the meeting. He was hiding out in the kitchens for this since Umbridge was staking out the Seventh Floor corridor this week.

The first few people who came by were wixen looking to antagonize her.

"I'm not even going to waste my breath arguing with you," said Hermione tiredly. "There's nobody else here to change the opinions of, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I'm not leaving until you debate me."

Hermione turned away and crossed her arms.

"Hi, is this the meet-up for S.A.M.B.?" someone new asked.

"Yes! It is!" she turned to face the newcomer and tried not to jump.

The boy was burly like a Quidditch player and had ochre skin that almost seemed to marble in a few places like the carnelian bracelet her mamá gave her all those years ago. Jutting out of his jaw were two-blunted tusks and two, pink ram-like horns twisted out of his head. His pointed ears twitched as if he guessed what her initial reaction was. Hermione smiled in what she hoped was a welcoming way.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Nia Sanchez, founder of S.A.M.B. and these are two of our members Cedric and Márcia." She turned the mirror so Cedric could see. "This first meeting is just to give me an idea of the culture around here and make a list of grievances. Do you have any you feel comfortable sharing?"

"Uh… sure," he said and crossed his arms over his chest. "Um, I'm Alejandro Laguna. I'm half-troll. I deal with a lot of preconceived notions that trolls are stupid and violent when that's just not true. There are complex cultures all over the world and I'm tired of being held to a higher standard. I'm always in a catch-22. If I don't know something, then people think they're right and I'm stupid. If I sound smart they're condescending and ask how long it took me to memorize that or they claim that someone is feeding me information. Plus, in order to be in society I have to shave down my tusks and horns, which is something my village stops doing once we're old enough to exercise caution. I won't hurt anyone and filing my tusks down is painful, especially since Troll tusks sharpen with use and when broken will grow back."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," said Hermione, writing everything down. "It's awful to have to alter your appearance in order to appease society."

Alejandro smiled slightly and dropped a sickle in the donation tin, taking a button and a pamphlet. He stepped aside and read through it.

"Óla, Nia!" said Márcia, toting two people with her. "I found some volunteers. We sort of know each other, I mean… we know of each other. This is Henrique, his parents are from the same community my dad grew up in, and this is Bernice. She's head of the Romani Cultural Club on campus."

"Oh, wonderful to meet you both," said Hermione, shaking their hands. "Please, take a pamphlet, buttons are a sickle donation, all proceeds go to Wolfsbane Potions. I would actually be very interested in learning more about the Romani people. My friend Viktor, his mother is Romani, but he said he never really knew much about his culture except what people stereotype him as. I realize that being Brazilian Romani would be different from Eastern European or even, to be more specific, Bulgarian Romani, but I still would like to learn."

"Unfortunately, the stereotypes are all anyone seems to know," said Bernice, scribbling her name on the volunteer sheet. "If you want to stop by the R.C.C. we meet in the mornings on Monday and Wednesday. Today though, I'd like to hear more about what your group is about."

"Yes, absolutely."

After them was Roberto Watanabe Velho who was a weretiger. Unlike werewolves, his form manifested every new moon and did not alter his personality, yet he was treated the same as every other werecreature even being required to drink a potion that sedated him during his transformations and made him sick.

"Is Doña Claudia enforcing this?" Hermione demanded.

"It's required by the school board and the government," he said. "If they find out I'm not taking the potions I could be expelled and she could be fired and the next Head might overturn our rights to an education. The kind of students who are accepted are up to whoever the Head is of the school rather than being a right by law."

Olívia Carvalho was part-Harpy and was often the victim of random checks to make sure she wasn't stealing anything or hurting people. Many of her friends and family had to be de-clawed as part of a program.

That was a common theme. Those with claws, horns, fangs, and tusks had to alter them in order to be perceived as nonthreatening. Students with wings often bound them under their clothes so other students wouldn't pull at their feathers.

A fair few, like the half-siren, the quarter-goblin, the centaur wix, and Márcia all had to renounce their Being part in order to be allowed to attend a wizard school.

Others weren't allowed to present their culture and even had to alter their diets.

"Professor Flitwick had to do that," said Cedric from the mirror. "Renounce his goblin side I mean. You can't be a dual citizen and still carry a wand."

Three hours later, Hermione had a long list of grievances and had needed to create a makeshift sign-up sheet with a blank sheet of paper. Only one percent of Castelobruxo was M.B. but that was still dozens of students and faculty who were facing oppression. She could not abide it.

Only a handful of the sign-ups were wixen volunteers. One of them was her cousin, Josefina.

"Thank you so much for meeting me here today," said Hermione, amplifying her voice. "Thank you for speaking to me and telling me the obstacles you face by society. I have heard you. This road is not going to be easy, but there is strength in numbers. We need to work together. A win for one group is a win for all. I am not here to speak for you, but rather to amplify your voices so they can be heard and to use my privilege to help you. Maybe there will be days where it seems we are taking two steps forward and one step back. But that still means we're taking a step forward. You all deserve rights and you all deserve to be treated as equals. And we will get there through petitions, protests, donations, and rising into leadership positions."

Her speech was met with applause. A few passersby took some pamphlets, but she didn't get any other sign-ups. That was okay. She made copies of the sign-up sheets and gave one to Márcia to hold onto. Next week they could hold a formal election for the board and go on from there, making short-term and long-term goals.

"Begging your pardon," a voice squeaked from her mirror.

Hermione picked it up to look at Meenie directly. Cedric must've been in the kitchens.

"Yes?"

"What is a protest?" she asked.

"Ah. A protest is basically when you occupy a heavy-trafficked area like the plaza here or perhaps in front of a government building. The purpose is to make an issue known. Sometimes it's paired with strikes and boycotts. The point is to create a change by inconveniencing the elite. Make them hear your demands."

"I understand," said Meenie. "Thank you, miss."

"Anytime!"

"I'd love to stay and chat," said Cedric. "But I really oughta go on my prefect rounds."

"Wait, I wanna talk about those new injuries that popped up."

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU I LOVE YOU BYE!"

He hung up.

Huffing, Hermione pocketed her mirror and stuffed the sign-up sheets in the first notebook she found for safe-keeping. It was still early and her new friends had offered her some great resources in understanding their individual cultures. She planned on talking with all of them, but she also wanted to do some of her own research.