beauty in the breakdown

Do you believe in ghosts?

Ghosts? Of course I believe in ghosts. I happen to know quite a few.

At Hogwarts, each of the student houses have their own ghost. Ravenclaw has the Grey Lady. Hufflepuff has the Fat Friar. Slytherin has the Bloody Baron. And they’re all very nice – well, except for the Baron, as he can be a little testy. But for Gryffindor? Our ghost is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, but he usually goes by Nearly-Headless Nick. He's a rather nice ghost; he's very helpful to the first years, and he often visits us in the great hall. He’s my favorite by default, of course.

Now, there's also Peeves. Most of the ghosts in the school do not consider Peeves to be a ghost, but rather a poltergeist since he thrives on creating trouble and chaos throughout the castle. He's quite cruel sometimes. And, he never listens! In fact, Fred and George are the only ones Peeves has ever taken a command from. And, he did stay true to his word and gave Umbridge hell.

The girl's lavatory on the second floor is haunted by Moaning Myrtle. She's rather mopey and cries when no one comes to visit her. However, she prefers boys to visit her, and that's hardly going to happen since she haunts the girl's lavatory! Sometimes she gets flushed out of the castle, but she always comes back, much to our collective dismay – especially Harry’s.

Professor Binns is the only Hogwarts teacher who happens to be a ghost. He enjoyed teaching so much that when he died he kept teaching. The rumor is that he died in mid-lecture and didn’t even notice he had passed on; he simply continued about his lecture. Most of the students find him to be rather boring. Sometimes I have to agree.

Nearly Headless Nick told us about being a ghost. He said that wizards can leave an imprint of themselves on earth and walk about where their living selves once were. I thought it was poetic.

"I never thought I'd say this, but...

I believe I’m beginning to positively dread my seventh year at Hogwarts."

Perhaps it’s simply due to the fact that my sixth year was a bit traumatic. Well, not quite traumatic as all my faculties are still in tact, but still, a bit close to traumatic nonetheless. The headmaster was killed by my former professor, and Malfoy actually proved to be everything Harry’s thought of him for some time now. The attack on the school was horrible… absolutely horrible. And, I know the worst is yet to come.

I’m not a stupid girl. Sometimes I envy those who can’t see the obvious, who can just bounce on about their lives, worrying only about who they’ll end up with and what not. But, I’m not that girl. I’m a bookish girl with too many thoughts running about my head. And though I think I’ve been handling all of these things rather well, I can’t help but find myself a little troubled. Harry’s going to run off in search of horcruxes, and will any of us be able to have his back like Dumbledore did? Ron and I would do anything for Harry, but I worry that even we aren’t enough.

Oh, if I took any sort of stock in the rubbish that Professor Trelawney says, then I’m certain I’d utter some cryptic comment about dark times lying ahead. But, despite my dislike for that woman and her lunacy, I’m beginning to believe that such omens might be true. Dark times very well do lie ahead, and for once, I don’t have the answers.

Talk about one thing you hope to do in the upcoming year that you have never done before. It could be something significant or something trivial.

This may sound a bit trivial, but it's honestly something I strive to accomplish. I want to be able to fly, or at the very least, overcome my fear of doing so. Yes, I have a fear of flying. Well, maybe it's not so far as a fear, but I absolutely hate it. I hate brooms. I hate creatures that can fly - well, not personally, just if I have to fly with them.

I fear that flying may be essential if Voldemort attacks. Harry, Ron, and Ginny all have their quidditch brooms and can fly without a bit of trouble well, so long as Ron isn't trying to block something. For that matter, I don't believe I know anyone who can't fly. And, I'm not at all suggesting that I lack the ability to do so. I just... don't particularly enjoy it. And because I don't enjoy it? I haven't really applied myself to probably understand how to do it. Yes, that's it.

But, what if I should need to fly? I'm not at all implying that I have a sudden urge to play quidditch because I do not! But, what if I need to fly? To get away? To protect myself? I can perform any spell, make any potion, but flying? I simply can not do. But, it might be a necessary skill to learn, for my own safety - though, I find flying to be completely unsafe, but that's beside the point in this matter.

So. That's what I would like to accomplish this year. Flying. But, I think I'll wait a bit to get started on it.

If you could change one aspect of your society, what would it be?

There is too much hate in the world. Is there even a true period of innocence anymore? Just one pure moment that isn't tainted by negative influence? No, not really.

I feel the pain of this at school, mostly. There's the inter-house rivalry which is far from just a spirited competition among classmates and peers. No. Distaste fills the mouths, overloads the senses, between Gryffindor and Slytherin house - though, even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw don't tend to favor Slytherin in the slightest. There's also the dislike for Muggle-borns, prominent mostly in the Pureblood circles. And, of course, we can't forget the collective hatred for Voldemort that makes us afraid and bitter for feeling afraid.

Nothing is pure anymore. Somehow, someway, everything gets tained. But if I could change things, just a little? I'd make it so that some things can still be held dear, still be precious, still be pure, without the bitter taste that hatred and negativity tend to leave on everything.

Dance.

I've really only been to one dance. It's not as if I attend Muggle school; we don't have things such as homecoming and prom, though my mum tells me such things are most frivolous and would likely bore me. But, we did have one formal dance at Hogwarts during my fourth year, and it was much like my mum’s descriptions on muggle dances – frivolous and a tad boring.

I did, however, have a date which created a significant amount of issue with Ron and Harry – well, Ron more so than Harry. Ron apparently came to the grand conclusion that I was indeed a girl and could thereby go with him. Of course, I refused, though it was mostly because I already had a date. Yes, I had a date with Viktor Krum; he’s a pretty famous Quidditch player, if you follow that sort of thing.

But, the dance was… well, it started out okay. I had a very pretty periwinkle dress, and my hair was actually not frizzing out all over the place; it took hours to make it behave, but that’s beside the point. We danced a bit, and there was a band and such. It was okay, except for the fact that Ron and Harry had made their dates miserable, thus leading Ron to take it upon himself to make everyone’s date miserable. I think he was just bitter due to his dress robes, but still, he had no reason to be so immature – though, does he ever need a reason?

Tunnel. Click to see the image, Hermione-style.

As she started to walk down the narrow pathway in the tunnel, she knew it was a very bad idea. The day began with a bad idea, so really, this was just another in a series of bad ideas. Hermione Granger didn't often have such things, so a day filled with bad ideas? Was unsettling, to say the least.

When she awoke that morning, she decided it would be nice to let Crookshanks out for a bit. Yes, she felt that it would do her poor, half-Kneazle cat a bit of good to get out of the house. At school, she could take him out on the grounds, but keeping him trapped in her muggle home was only upsetting the furry beast. And how was he taking out his anger? On her parents' furniture, of course. She was growing tired of practicing spells to mend the tattered pieces on the back of the sofa.

Now, she did at least try to go about her plan in a sensible, muggle way. She bought a sparkly collar and a matching leash. The lady at the store insisted that some cats were able to wear the leash just fine, walk about, have very little arguement. And, really, Crooks wore the collar with very little fighting. She walked him around the house with no problems at all!

She certainly didn't want to take him out near the street. So, she walked down the street with the fuzzy monostrosity in her arms until she reached the park that was in fair walking distance from her home. She continued to walk along until she felt they were far enough away from cars and... well, from dogs, because that would certainly be unsettling to her beloved cat. She stopped near a tunnel and decided it would be a safe place to let Crooks walk for a bit. However, she underestimated her cat's strength. Before she knew it, she was standing there with nothing but a torn leash in her hand. She glanced around and thought she caught a glimpse of fur running down the tunnel ahead. She ran after him, but she saw no trace of him. She sighed, "Oh, Crooks..."

Write about a memory of summer.

August 24, 1994

It was just one week before the start of her fourth year at Hogwarts. With it being so close to the start of the term, she felt she really ought to be at home, reading her new textbooks to prepare. But, she couldn’t. The Weasleys had gotten tickets to the 422nd Quidditch world cup, and she had been invited to tag along. She had no interest in Quidditch – that was a well-known fact! But, she certainly couldn’t refuse any invitation from her best mate’s family.

She had done her research, at least. She didn’t find the sport particularly appealing – mostly because the idea of flying make her ill to her stomach, and the thought of flying for the purpose of tossing a quaffle or catching the snitch seemed to be an absolutely mental idea to her as it would likely be a near-death experience if she attempted it. But, she found the event itself to be intriguing. She read that there were two-hundred portkeys scattered around Britain which all lead to a nice, deserted moor with Muggle-Repelling charms on every square inch of it.

Her eyes were wide as she reached the end of the lantern-lit trail, following the Weasleys and Harry closely. She accepted her velvet-colored, tasseled-program and marveled at the strange, golden light that seemed to come from no source, but from just the stadium itself. For awhile, she let herself be lost in the moment, lost in the crowd. There would be time for fear and insecurity later, but for now, she was just a girl, ready to enjoy – or, at least attempt to enjoy – the Quidditch world cup with her dearest mates in all the world.

Look out! Select the word(s) of your choice and complete the scene. You're walking/strolling/wandering/running/ducking past a window/door/tent flap/cave opening/car/alleyway and a bullet/rock/arrow/book/knife whistles past your head. You immediately…


You're running past an alleyway and a rock whistles past your head. You immediately wish you hadn’t decided to go on this little excursion alone. You glance over your shoulder, staring down Knockturn Alley, searching for the source of the rock. You don’t see anyone, which makes it all the more worrisome. You know you mustn’t walk down that path; you know very well it isn’t the safest place to go, certainly not when you’re alone and it’s quickly growing dark. You turn to continue on your way, with your stack of newly purchased books in hand, but another rock skitters against your shoe.

You sigh, unable to control yourself. You had only meant to go on a quick trip to Flourish & Botts and then, perhaps, to get a new cloak. You take a tentative step to the darker alley, knowing very well that it isn’t your brightest of ideas. You notice a shop not too far into the shadows that you weren’t aware existed. Strange. It’s a book store, and you know you really can’t resist just a quick peek.

You slip inside, hoping to go unnoticed, but the shopkeeper is quick to ask what such a young witch would possibly need in his store. You were looking for a book on horcruxes, thinking it might help Harry. Flourish & Botts, however, had next to nothing on the subject. Of course, as far as you knew, it wasn’t a widely documented field of study. You express your search to the man, leaving out the details about the Boy-Who-Is-Your-Best-Friend. He eyes you oddly for a moment then disappears into a back room. He returns promptly with a dusty book that smells faintly of a potion Neville brewed terribly wrong. He tells you this book has a little information, but he warns you that there are things in its pages that may taint you. You aren’t sure what he means, but you ask how much the book will cost. He tells you not to worry, it’s a gift; he tells you to run along, before it gets too dark. You thank him and leave feeling anxious and unsettled.

You run again, quick to finish your tasks, but it has gotten awfully dark outside. You’re tempted to pout, but you decide you can come back tomorrow – it’s another excuse to get out of your summer prison for a bit. You apparate back to the safety of your muggle room, and that incident with the rock is completely forgotten. At least, it was, until you hear a tap against the window that sounds as if a rock has been thrown from outside. Someone still wants your attention, but who?

Do you tend to make friends easily? Why/why not?

I think I tend to be a little better at making friends now than I was when I first started at Hogwarts. It used to be very difficult for me. I preferred my textbooks to friends, and I had no problems showing off everything I had learned – that, really, hasn’t changed much. Ron and Harry didn’t really care for me in our first year. In fact, they had no problems talking about how positively mental I was – which, still hasn’t changed much, except that I think now they do it more in fun.

As a prefect, I do try to be friendly when I can – especially when we’re leading the first years, since they all seem so nervous and uncertain. At the same time, I have to be strict and make sure that they mind the rules and such! I tend to be bossy, which doesn’t usually make people so inclined to be friends with me. I do believe that the majority of the Gryffindor students are my friends, and since I see them daily, that’s good enough for me.

Ginny has become one of my closest friends. Everyone just assumes that Harry and Ron are all I’ve got, but Ginny is truly a great friend. I really hope her brothers haven’t made her pull her hair out during the summer this year!

Talk about something you inherited. (It could be an object, a physical attribute, a belief, etc.)


Inheritance? That's an interesting subject. In fact, it's a subject I've given considerable amount of thought to. However, despite the fact that I've given it such thought, I have few answers to my questions. Of course, my questions are tricky ones, which kind of explains why I don't have a complete explanation.

I'm muggle-born. That means that my parents are not magical in the slightest. As far as we know, there isn't anyone in our family that has any sort of magical ability - not even a squib. But, I'm a witch - a lot of people insist that I'm the brightest witch of my year. So, where did my magic come from?

Sometimes I wish that I was like my friends - I wish I knew without a doubt in my mind where my abilities came from. I want to say that they were inherited, from generations of great wizards and witches. But, I can't say that. I have absolutely no idea why I'm the only one in my family who has this gift. So, as I said, inheritance is an interesting subject.

If, then.

The if, then statement is a classic structure used in certain subjects. It’s a very basic principle used in grammatical structure, in certain areas of mathematics, and even in advanced computer programming. It’s a simple concept, able to be applied in complex situations. If X, then Y. In fact, we can use this concept to illustrate certain points.

For example… If Harry defeats Voldemort, then the wizarding world can live in peace. Now, of course, that really shouldn’t be an “if” statement; it’s a “when” statement, because he will defeat Voldemort. But, for illustration purposes, I suppose it works.

Now, the other two-thirds of my group would likely prefer to use some kind of quidditch example. However, my knowledge on the sport is limited. I can try my best. “If Harry is captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, then Gryffindor will win the cup.” Or, “If Ron is the Gryffindor keeper, then Gryffindor might possibly win the cup if we keep our fingers crossed.” Yes, something like that would work quite nicely, I think.

So, you see, a fundamental structure in several subjects – the classic if, then statement – can easily be applied in everyday life.

Loyalty.


How do you know if a person is truly loyal? I suppose I ought to ask the sorting hat; it has to determine which students are the most loyal and hard-working and place them into Hufflepuff house. Cedric was a Hufflepuff; in the end, he didn't have to stand with Harry, but he did because he was loyal. Is that how you determine loyalty? By whether or not someone is willing to stand there beside you, willing to give their own life to spare yours? Well, it sounds like a good start, at least.

According to my muggle dictionary, it states: loyalty n 1: the quality of being loyal [ant: disloyalty] 2: feelings of allegiance 3: the act of binding yourself (intellectually or emotionally) to a course of action. Hmm, then for the sake of cross-reference, it states: loyal adj 1: steadfast in allegiance or duty 2: inspired by love for your country 3: unwavering in devotion to friend or vow or cause[syn: firm, truehearted, fast(a)]. It would be easier if everyone's loyalty could be determined by the dictionary. However...

The reason why I'm curious is... Dumbledore told us Snape was loyal. Any time there was a glimmer of doubt, he was firm and steadfast in his belief that Snape was a loyal man. But, it was Snape who killed the headmaster. Was it an act of loyalty? It... it doesn't appear that way. Could Dumbledore have been wrong all these years? Could he have been deceived? And, how do you deceive a man like Dumbledore? How do you appear loyal, to the extent of having someone's unwavering faith in you?

I'm loyal to a lot of things. I'm loyal to my studies, to Gryffindor, to my friends. Most importantly, I'm loyal to the other two-thirds of the golden trio; even when Harry and Ron act like... well, like Harry and Ron, I'd still be willing to go to the end's of the earth with them. They're my best mates; I'll always be loyal to them. And, of course, I'm loyal to Ginny as well; sometimes I fear she gets left out, but she means just as much to me as Harry and Ron. I have unwavering loyalty to them, but how do I know that they are loyal to me? I wish I had a textbook answer, but all I have is this: I just... know.

She was starting to wonder if their intial meeting had happened at all. Truly, she was wondering if she had hallucinated the entire instance. As far as she knew, she hadn't had any trips to St. Mungos or any sort of head injury. But still, could she really have met two deities not so very long ago? She pondered it, more often than her studies which was worrisome to say the least. She wanted to ask her parents or even Ronald's parents about it, but she wasn't sure how that conversation would go. Mum, Dad, I met Hermes and Loki. You know, the deities? Thus, she had sat around, waiting for an opportunity to attempt to summon the pair. She vaguely remembered a conversation about invocation and twinkies...

It took awhile, but the opportunity finally came in the form of a dental conference. With her very muggle, very mortal parents out of town on their work-related conference, she finally had a little uninterrupted time to herself to attempt something that even her textbooks were vague about.

Her cauldron sat in the middle of her room; she stirred the mixture very carefully, as her textbook instructed. When it appeared to turn a shimmering shade of lavender, she read the bit of text that she edited for her own purposes. "I, Hermione Jane Granger, hereby invoke the god, Loki. Please inform him I have twinkies, per his request. I also invoke the god, Hermes. Please inform him I have information regarding You-Know-Who's snake-that-must-be-stolen." She smirked and waited.

Describe a chance encounter that changed your life.

I was sitting at dinner one night. It was a perfectly normal thing. Mum and Dad fixed dinner just after they arrived home from work. I was sitting in the living room, reading a book. Life was average, ordinary, and normal. I sat at my usual place at the table and happily began to munch on my mashed potatoes.

But then, this very strange thing happened. There was a tapping on the window behind the table. This constant tap-tap-tap. Mum turned around, and we couldn't really see what was tapping. She opened the window a bit, and this white owl flew through and perched itself on Mum's chair. It stared at me; at that point, I noticed that the owl had something that looked like a letter with my name on it. I took the letter, and the owl flew away, as if it was perfectly normal.

The letter, of course, was my invitation to Hogwarts. That was the very moment my life changed. Up until the moment an owl came to dinner, I was a normal girl, thinking of taking up dentistry. But, after the owl left, I was a witch with a magical career ahead of me. Strange how an owl can change everything, hm?

Who was "the one that got away"?

It wasn't as if it was a tricky thing. Anyone can do it. Seriously. Therefore, you can't really say I was bad at it, despite what certain people will whisper in the hallway.

I wanted to be good at it. I try my very best to excel at everything. So, this was no different. I had every intention of being the very best. But then, how can you be the very best at some nonsensical, make-believe, rubbish?

Every day... it got worse. But, I told myself it would work out. I would still make perfect marks. Everything would be fine. Well, until it was mentioned that I was hopelessly mundane.

I walked away. No more of that bloody, stupid nonsense! What good was it for, anyway? Does anyone really use it? Does anyone even care? Except Lavender and Pavarti.

Technically, it isn't a who that got away. That isn't the proper term. And, for the record, I will not call it a subject since it's nothing but rubbish. For that matter, I'm the one who got away. I refuse to accept that Divination got away from me. Hmph!


What? Did you think I'd write about Viktor Krum or something?

Perception: Generally speaking, how do you think others perceive you?

Hmm.

Well, the majority of the school calls Harry, Ron, and I The Golden Trio. It's not always said in an awe-inspiring manner, mind you. Ron and I, we're Harry Potter's best friends. Ron is usually just Harry's sidekick, which gives him a bit of a complex. But me? Well, I'm the brains of the group, though it takes little perception to come to that conclusion!

I've been called a variety of things, ranging from brightest witch of my year to insufferable know-it-all. Sometimes people are nice, sometimes not so much. I've been called bloody mental on numerous occasions due to my somewhat obsessive study habits. During my fourth year, Ron made the astute observation that I was, indeed, a girl - apparently, no one seemed to notice until about the time of the Yule ball except for Viktor.

The Slytherins, namely Draco, have a habit of calling me a mudblood. For clarification purposes, I'm a Muggle-born. There's nothing wrong with my blood or my family. That perception needs to change.

Fortune: Some people have it, some people seek it, some claim to predict it, and some say that it favors the brave. Write a ficlette inspired by the word "fortune."

She sits at home, silent for a change. She's tried countless times to make her parents understand the degree of absolute grief she felt at the funeral for the headmaster, but despite her best efforts, they never quite comprehend. They don't understand how the other world she belongs to is in grave danger. Tears roll down her cheeks. They don't understand how she fears for Harry, how she wants to help him, how she worries for him. He's been like a brother to her; if something happens to him... She doesn't even want to think of that.

She curls up on her bed, clutching the stuffed bear her father won for her at a fair when she was little. She remembered being so upset that day; no matter how many times she tried to knock the bottles down, she missed. Her hands were shaking as she cried and cried. Her father knelt down and tucked her bushy brown hair behind her ears. He smiled and brushed her tears away. "Fortune favors the brave," he said. "Do you think I'm brave?" She nodded. He gave her another smile and tossed the ball, causing the bottles to collapse. He handed her the stuffed bear, that was nearly the same size as she was. "Always be brave, Hermione. You can do anything."

She holds the bear tight now, crying on its worn shoulder. She wonders what the year ahead will bring. She wonders how many of her classmates will return, how many are too afraid to come back. She wonders if they'll find the horcruxes, if everything will work out. She wonders if Harry will face his destiny... but she knows he will. She sniffles as she wonders what her destiny will be. "Be brave," she tells herself, "You can do anything."

What is the most dangerous thing you have ever done?

When I was a first year, no one liked me. My classmates all laughed at me; even my professors found me a tad irksome with my hand always in the air. This general dislike became increasingly worse, until one night I snapped and fled to the girls' lavatory to weep. However, it wasn't empty. I was face-to-face with a mountain troll.

If I had to be face-to-face with a mountain troll at this precise moment, I'd like to think I could fair a little better. I'd be brave and hex it into next Sunday. At least, I tell myself that. My little, wide-eyed, frightened first year self, however, nearly died from a panic attack. In fact, if Harry and Ron hadn't come to save me, I'm not really sure how that would've turned out.

I have since made an effort not to run into trouble blind and alone - well, except for that petrification incident in my second year, but it's all part of the learning process!

What does your dream home look like?

Have you ever seen the Disney movie Beauty & The Beast? Hmm. Well, most likely not, considering it's a muggle movie. But, well, Harry might have seen it. It was released in 1991; they later released a musical of it. It was quite a good movie; in fact, Mum still has our VHS copy at home. I wonder if she ever bought the DVD; she rather likes to collect the new releases of Disney films. No worries, she's not one of those obsessive fans who collects the plates and mounts them to the wall. Those are odd.

Anyway, there's this lovely scene where the Beast gives Belle the library. Let's see... I think I have the text somewhere. Ah, here it is:


BEAST: Belle, there's something I want to show you. (Begins to open the door, then stops.) But first, you have to close your eyes. (She looks at him questioningly.) It's a surprise.

(BELLE closes her eyes, and BEAST waves his hand in front of her. Then he opens the door. He leads her in.)

BELLE: (Just as she enters the room) Can I open them?

BEAST: No, no. Not yet. Wait here.

(BEAST walks away to draw back the curtains. He does, and brilliant sunlight spills into the room. BELLE flinches reflexively as the light hits her face.)

BELLE: Now can I open them?

BEAST: All right. Now.

(BELLE opens her eyes and the camera pulls back to reveal the gigantic library filled with books.)

BELLE: I can't believe it. I've never seen so many books in all my life!

BEAST: You--you like it?

BELLE: It's wonderful.

BEAST: Then it's yours.

Oh, and the library? It's marvelous! It's this huge room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. It has two staircases leading up to a second level of books. And, there's a nice little fireplace and big red chairs where you can sit and read. Oh, it's lovely! That is my dream home. Well, at least one room of it. I want a lovely room with built-in bookshelves, to store all my various books from floor-to-ceiling. It would be absolutely wonderful.

At times, lots of people never tell us what they are really thinking. Who is the one person that you would really like to know what they are thinking (as far as how they feel about you), and why?

There's something I have been absolutely curious about since my third year of schooling at Hogwarts. You see, it was during that year that two very random comments stuck with me. One day in potions, Professor Snape took 5 points from Gryffindor on account of me being an insufferable know-it-all. Now, I'm certain that came as no surprise; he's always been rather cruel. However, later that year, Professor Lupin told me that I was the cleverest witch of my age.

Now, Professor Lupin has always been kind, which all of us appreciate. However, after the comment I received from Professor Snape - which, I admit, I've thought about a lot more than I probably should - I couldn't help but think that being called the cleverest witch of my age is really a nice way of saying insufferable know-it-all.

Sometimes I can't help but wonder... when people say I'm smart, in the back of their minds, are they chiding me? Do they dislike me? When I first met Harry and Ron, they didn't like me much either. It's reasonable to assume that if my best mates didn't like me at first, there must be plenty of people who still don't like me.

Of course, I try not to worry about such things. My studies are the most important thing, and I focus most of my attention on such. But, the aforementioned comments came from professors. This leads me to wonder if my professors don't take me seriously. What if they think I'm insufferable but find nicer ways of saying it? Granted, I'm certain Professor Lupin wasn't trying to imply that I was insufferable; he's nice and... honest.

Sometimes, I admit, I would rather like to know what people think of me. I'd love to know which professors like me and which ones don't; that would help me know who to go to at the end of the term for letters of recommendation.

Also, on an unrelated side note, I'd really like to know if Ron Weasley fancies me or not! He's so wishy-washy on the subject; it's driving me absolutely mad!