There's Something To Be Said

Chapter One; Sophronia Enters the Wizarding Scene

“Hermione, wait! I can’t –I can’t run that fast! Don’t leave me!”

Hermione paused, shot an unamused glance over her shoulder, and pointed out shortly, “I’m only going to the car.” This didn’t seem to matter to Sophronia who grasped the opportunity to reach her older sister, then stopped and turned back to look at their house. “Come on.” When Hermione continued to the car, Sophronia hurried to follow, diving into the backseat beside her and slamming the door shut.

A oddly-cheerful voice (considering both her daughters were about to leave for the year) from the front seat called back, “Hermione? Sophronia? Are you two ready?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Do we have everything?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Then we’re off.” Mr. Granger cast a quick glance at the girls via the rearview mirror, then, convinced that no tears were coming yet, carefully pulled out of the driveway.

No, Sophronia wasn’t sad. Not yet, at any rate. Perhaps it was the excited, unworried state of her sister beside her, or maybe just Sophronia’s natural thirst for adventure, for the new, but, though she gazed quietly out the window, the youngest member of the Granger family felt very little depression. Elbow balanced on the window, chin cupped in her hand, she watched as her familiar suburban neighborhood flew by, followed by the park she went to every Sunday afternoon and the creek she continuously found herself grounded for swimming in. Several of her friends were at the former now, roller skating on the sidewalks or kicking a football around on the lawn. Alyssa and Michelle, her two best friends, particularly caught her eye, grabbing hands to spin around in a circle on their skates. Sophronia wouldn’t be joining them for a long, long time. A school year away felt like an eternity.

Her friends had taken the news relatively well when Sophronia had related that she would be joining her older sister at a boarding school for the year. The actual details had to be left out, of course: such as that the boarding school was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mum and Dad had offered to be the go-between of letters exchanged by Sophronia and her friends at home, allowing her to keep in touch, and she planned to take advantage of this, though Hermione had, in a sisterly moment, assured her that such good times were to be had at Hogwarts that she wouldn’t think twice about home.

All this reminiscing was clouding Sophronia’s mind, so she turned from the window and instead spent the next couple minutes staring, unblinking, at Hermione whose nose was, as could be guessed, buried deep in a book –a biography about some dead guy that held absolutely no splendor to Sophronia. It took a couple minutes for the infamous “sixth sense” to kick in, at which point Hermione glanced up for a quick second in her sister’s direction, then looked up more fully seeing the set of eyes watching her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Hermione went back to reading. Sophronia continued to stare at her. After a couple more seconds, Hermione repeated, “What?”

“Nothing.”

This was repeated once more before Hermione cried, “Sophronia, stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“That– that staring at me!”

“But I think you’re pretty.”

“Mum!”

Mrs. Granger shook her head before turning around and refereeing, “Girls. Both of you: Sophronia, quit bothering your sister; Hermione, don’t be so sensitive about it. If you ignore her, she’ll stop.”

“That’s what you said when she came home from the hospital and it hasn’t worked yet,” Hermione pointed out. Mrs. Granger tried to hide her amusement and quickly turned back around, leaving the backseat to work out its differences.

The rest of the drive to London –a rather lengthy ride for Sophronia, whose excitement merely grew the closer they got– passed in relative peace. Sophronia grew bored with annoying Hermione, not to mention thought better of it since she would soon be relying on her older sister’s guidance for a smooth entrance to Hogwarts. She content herself with a mixture of staring out the window, fantasizing about what was to come, tracing pictures on the glass with her finger, and flipping through one of Hermione’s books, looking at the pictures of magical creatures.

Once they came within a couple minutes of the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione pulled her attention from her book and took to telling Sophronia their plans for the next two days. These were listened to with the utmost attention, the entire wizarding world a new thing to the younger of the two. United by a common anticipation, the backseat was a scene of smiles and giggles for the end of the drive, so that when Mr. Granger pulled the car to a stop just outside the Leaky Cauldron pub, a warm and friendly atmosphere dominated. Much better than Hermione’s departure her first year, at which Sophronia threw a tantrum because her mean old parents wouldn’t let her go as well. And now she was going!

“Well, girls, here we are,” Mr. Granger sighed in the couple seconds of stillness before the car became a mad flurry of limbs and luggage. The house was going to be awfully quiet with both girls gone. When Hermione had been absent the previous two years, Sophronia had made plenty of nose in compensation, but now things would almost be too quiet. But this was for the best. Sophronia belonged to the Wizarding world just as much as Hermione, so it was only fair.

Both girls sprang from the car and immediately began loading down with luggage, determined to take all their things in one trip. It took some maneuvering before Hermione was able to teach Sophronia how to properly pull her trunk for minimal problems, but once she’d gotten it, she strutted along proudly behind her big sister, chin held high because she was going to Hogwarts. Mr. Granger held the door for the ladies of his family, then quickly followed, shutting the door behind himself.

Sophronia gazed around wide-eyed at the Leaky Cauldron pub, whereas Hermione looked right at home. The former stopped short just inside the main room, let her trunk stand, and gawked at the decorations and people while her parents went and made sure her and Hermione’s room was ready.

It was rather gloomy inside, like an attic that had been shut up for years, with dust-caked windows and a shadow-marked feel overall. It looked like it had been shut up for years, but the people milling about proved otherwise. A group of four older people swamped in loose-fitting clothes with various lengths of scraggly hair and big silver rings or long chains with pendants looped around their necks huddled together at a table, muttering and making gestures with their hands at various areas of the pub. One younger man donning a set of dark blue robes strode between the tables, carrying a briefcase under his arm, walking towards a lady seated at another table with a breakfast plate and a newspaper. The man and lady looked normal enough, but the group of four and the short, hairy man reading a newspaper close by, shorter even than Sophronia, were new to her.

Hermione saw the utter amazement controlling Sophronia’s face and recalled her own first visit to the Leaky Cauldron. She, too, had been ecstatic about attending Hogwarts, but Sophronia had been forced to sit idly at home for two years, reading the letters Hermione sent and anticipating her own enrollment.

“This is the main eating room,” Hermione said, startling Sophronia from her reverie. At the encouraging attention, Hermione continued, “There are a couple private parlours, and then the rooms are upstairs.”

“We’re here tonight, right?”

“Yes.”

“And then we’re off to Hogwarts tomorrow!” Sophronia cried, throwing her arms in the air in excitement. Hermione laughed and nodded.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger came over and helped the girls carry their things up to a room, then all four returned downstairs to stand together near the door. Mum looked half-regretfully at her two daughters. This was it. Even her baby would be attending Hogwarts now.

“Oh, don’t cry, Mum!” Sophronia giggled, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around Mrs. granger’s neck.

Mrs. Granger laughed and shook her head, “I won’t; I won’t! Just... look at you two. You’re growing up. It seems like just yesterday, I was–

“Come on, dear,” Dad cut her off, sending her an understanding look. He was right, though; Hermione and Sophronia were itching to get going.

Mum nodded, “Right. I’m sorry. Well, I...are you sure you two will be all right without me?”

“We’ll be fine, Mum,” Hermione assured her, throwing an arm around Sophronia’s shoulders. Sophronia, in response, wrapped an arm around her sister’s waist and copied her excited smile. “I’ve got our money; we will go right now and get Sophronia’s things.”

“I know. I just...well, we went shopping with you your first year but Sophronia–“

”Has a big sister who’s going to help me,” Sophronia interrupted. “Hermione knows what she’s doing, Mum. She’s an expert.” Hermione laughed and gave Sophronia’s shoulders a squeeze.

Mrs. Granger kneaded her hands and nodded, “Well, all right then. You girls behave. Watch out for your sister, Hermione dear. And, Sophronia, please try to stay out of trouble. Do what your sister says; don’t go exploring on your own; obey your teachers, and please keep your curiosity under control.”

“Of course, Mum!” Sophronia smiled innocently.

“All right. You two... well, remember to write. Do good in school, and–“

”I think they know, dear,” Mr. Granger interrupted again.

“Right, of course. Then...then I suppose this is good-bye for now!” Mum was able to hold herself together, no more than misty eyes, that is, for many hugs and a couple more reminders. Hermione and Sophronia humoured their parents with the drawn-out farewell and continued to stand there waving until both adults had disappeared out the door.

“Are they gone?” Sophronia whispered as if anything louder would delay their trip further.

“Yes.”

“Then...”

“We’re going to Hogwarts!” Hermione and Sophronia both cried with excitement, wrapping their arms around each other and spinning in a circle. It was times like these that Hermione was grateful for her younger sibling.

“Come on. Maybe we’ll find some of my friends in Diagon Alley.”

“We’re going to go now?”

“Yes.” Sophronia gave a little jump of excitement. “Let’s see... I’ve got both of our lists, so let’s go.” She grabbed Sophronia’s hand and tugged her across the pub to the backyard.

“What do we do here?” Sophronia asked, staring curiously up and down the alleyway Hermione led her to –a couple trash cans, a stray cat, and the three walls on both sides as well as the far. Hermione gave her one of those ‘just you watch’ grins and led her up to the brick wall at the far end. Putting on some airs for her sister’s benefit, Hermione reached forward and tapped a couple of the bricks, then turned to watch Sophronia’s reaction. The youngest Granger’s eyes widened and her smile grew with amazement as the bricks rattled, then proceeded to split apart along the mortar chinking and literally roll away, leaving a gaping doorway-like hole. She dared not move, just stood peering through at the bustling world on the other side.

“It’s–“

”Welcome to Diagon Alley, Sophronia,” Hermione announced, presenting this new world with a flourish of her arm.

“It’s–“

”Crowded, I know. And big and scary. Honestly, I was rather frightened my first year, but it’s all right. It’s just–“

”Beautiful!” Sophronia cried out, clamping her hands together in front of her. She turned to Hermione, absolutely beaming, and said, “Oh, Minnie, I’m finally here!” Hermione shook her head in amusement as often was the case with her sister. “Where do we go first?”

“Cauldron Shop, right over there,” Hermione answered, stepping through the hole after Sophronia. The bricks closed up behind her, the noise capturing Hermione’s attention for a moment. When she turned back, Sophronia was gone. A split-second heart attack was averted, though, when she caught glimpse of her little sister walking confidently across the street to the Cauldron Shop. Fortunately the crowds were, for the most part, a little further from the entrance, so Sophronia would probably make it to the shop unmolested, but she had a knack for getting lost anytime, anywhere. Hermione sighed and took off at a run to catch up.

“Sophronia, wait up!”

Sophronia called over her shoulder, “I’m just going to the store!”, mocking Hermione’s earlier impatience. She stopped when she reached the door, though, and waited.

Once even with her, Hermione scolded, “Don’t run off like that, Sophronia! You’re going to get lost and it would take hours to find you here.” Sophronia nodded but was too busy trying to slip into the shop to listen. Hermione gave up and followed her in.

Inside looked just like any other store that carries hundreds of copper, brass, pewter, and silver cauldrons. Sophronia immediately took off for the far wall, fascinated by some jeweled ones, and Hermione ran to head her off lest she knock something over or break something or cause some other type of havoc.

“Not one of those.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a first year. You don’t need a jeweled one your first year.”

“But–“

”I’m the one with the money, remember.”

Sophronia sighed, “All right. Which one?”

Hermione took her shoulders and bodily steered her to another area of the store containing shelves lined with various sized pewter and silver cauldrons. Sophronia was persuaded to select a pewter one since Hermione explained they performed better in her opinion, the item was paid for, and both girls left the shop again. Sophronia immediately made to take off down the street but Hermione firmly grabbed her hand and steered her across the way to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary.

“What’s this place?”

“The apothecary,” Hermione answered, pushing her through the doorway.

As soon as she stepped inside, Sophronia was hit full in the face with a whole army of new smells. She scrunched her nose up and shook her head to try and clear the stench away, “This place reeks.” She was quickly distracted, though, by all the oddities present in the shop. Strange tied clusters of claws and feathers, fangs and tails hung from the ceiling, dangling over shelves crammed with small buckets and bottles of various potion ingredients: herbs, various slimes and molds, a collection of colored goopy substances, liquids, powders, and so on. Sophronia began walking along one wall covered in hundreds of bottles, reading the labels: armadillo bile, bezoar, powdered bicorn horn, numerous pollens and bloods and saliva. She reached out to touch a bottle of luminous green beads but Hermione slapped her hand away.

“Don’t touch anything. I don’t want to pay for broken bottles and some of these things are dangerous. They could really hurt you,” Hermione warned, shooting Sophronia a pointed glare.

Sophronia was undaunted by the chiding –she had, after all, known Hermione her whole life– and just chose the moment to ask questions: “What’s bezoar?” “Is shrivelfig a shriveled fig?” “How do they get leech juice?” “Do they kill frogs to get their brains or just wait until they die naturally?” Hermione was to her the smartest person –not just witch, the overall smartest person– in the world, though she would never have actually admitted this to anyone, and, much to her oldest sister’s annoyance, every time she had a question, it was to her that she went. Hermione had received numerous letters at Hogwarts the previous two years from her little sister concerning everything from what doxy eggs looked like to why muggles and wizards couldn’t all get along. Sophronia was perhaps the most curious person in the world (to Hermione, at least) but she hadn’t her sisters patience enough to sit down and read about the answers. Thus, it had taken her several years to learn that Hermione hadn’t been telling the truth when she said that the younger siblings of muggle-born witches and wizards were sent to train at hag farms instead of school (which led to Sophronia spending a week trying to be a hag, during which she accidentally set Hermione’s hair on fire with a candle she carried around to ‘ward off hag-haters’.)

Sophronia obediently stuck by Hermione’s side as they bustled around the apothecary, getting what they needed from the shelves. She could only be patient for so long, though, and so chose the minutes Hermione spent paying for their things to slip away to the front of the store where several barrels called to her. Looking back to make sure Hermione wasn’t watching, she peered curiously down into one about 3/4 of the way full of some type of small black beads sitting in a slimy black liquid. She couldn’t stop herself from slowly reaching out and sticking a finger in the sludge. It felt cold to the touch and a less-than-pleasant aroma wafted up, but this didn’t keep her from sticking another finger and then her whole hand in to scoop up some of the gunk. Now her whole hand was cold. She leaned closer to see what exactly it was, but she couldn’t tell. The little opaque black beads offered no answers and the only thing Sophronia was able to deduce from the little investigation was that her hand was indeed growing colder and colder the longer she held them in her hand.

“Sophronia, what–“ Hermione asked, walking up with their things, but Sophronia was doing anything but listening as her hand grew painfully cold. Hermione’s eyes widened as she saw her little sister holding a handful of substance from a barrel clearly marked “Do Not Touch!!!” with three exclamation points at the end. “Sophronia!” she cried. Without thinking, she reached forward and hit Sophronia’s hand, sending the handful of Creiken eggs flying from their goop through the air to scatter across the floor. Immediately the eggs froze solidly to the ground. Sophronia inhaled sharply as air hit her freezing hand and began shaking it in attempts to warm it up, eyes widening as her hand began turning an awful shade of purple. Hermione came to the rescue, quickly grabbing a rag from the windowsill behind the barrel and wrapping it tightly around her hand, then grabbed Sophronia’s cauldron with all their stuff in it, guided her little sister out the door, and called over her shoulder to the store-owned glaring very unhappily at them and the eggs, “I’m really, really sorry!”

Once outside, Hermione gently pushed Sophronia to a corner and set the cauldron on the ground, then took hold of the wrapped hand and held it up.

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” Sophronia squealed as Hermione carefully pulled the rag away from her hand. “Ow– OW!”

“Hush, Sophronia,” Hermione scolded, bending down for a closer look as she wiped the remaining black goop away. Even once nothing relating to a Creiken was touching the skin, Sophronia’s hand still continued to darken its tint of purple and blisters bubbled up all over her palm and fingers. Hermione sighed and shook her head, “Why couldn’t you listen to the sign, Sophie?” Sophronia looked at the ground and didn’t mention that she’d been too worried about getting caught to read any extremely obvious warning signs. Usually she didn’t mind getting scolded for doing things, she just shrugged it off, but when Hermione took that tone of disappointment, that’s when she felt guilty about whatever she’d done.

“Just...Here, just stay right here. Don’t move, whatever you do, all right? I’m going to go see about an antidote for this,” Hermione ordered, looking Sophronia directly in the eyes to make sure she paid attention.

“Should I–“

”No. I doubt the owner wants you back in there right now. Just stay right here.” Sophronia nodded and leaned back against the wall to show she wasn’t going anywhere, cradling her poor hand to her chest. Hermione, still with that upset look on her face, hurried back into the apothecary. Not twenty minutes into being by themselves and her little sister was already hurt. It had taken nearly forever to convince their parents that they could handle things on their own. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had been loathe to let Sophronia off by herself on her first year but Hermione had sworn up and down to take care of her and pointed out that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be there to see them off, so they’d finally relented. And now this.

Meanwhile, Sophronia behaved very well and remained pressed up against the wall, waiting obediently for her sister’s return. She used her good hand to pull the cauldron closer to the wall so none of the people scrambling along the sidewalk would upset it. She watched these people in an attempt to ignore the needles repeatedly sticking her fingers. There were so many of them walking along, bumping into each other, or standing along the side, haggling over prices with small-time vendors. So many of the passers-by were not entirely human that this people-watching proved an interesting distraction. Some were abnormally-largely built, towering over others especially small in stature. Gnarled, warty hands, waist-length scraggly hair, large floppy hats, gap-toothed, ancient smiles –all this was new to Sophronia who felt she had been kept in the muggle world cruelly too long.

Just as she was beginning to worry that Hermione had forgotten about her –or maybe there was no antidote!– a movement to her left caught her eye, unique since the only thing to the left was the brick wall entrance. Sure enough, that was the very thing opening, allowing entrance to some new shopper in Diagon Alley. Sophronia was highly amused by how the bricks would roll back like they did and so continued to watch to see it close. At first no one appeared and she wondered if it hadn’t made some mistake in opening, but then a whole group of people came surging through, shoving against each other to get through first. Two boys absolutely identical to each other won out, nodding at the woman –probably the mother– of the lot, then raced off. The mother and father –all assumptions here– walked calmly off down the street with the oldest boy and the only girl. That left one boy, probably around Hermione’s age, who paused to tie his shoe.

Something about the red-headed family felt awfully familiar and it was only a matter of seconds before Sophronia realized just why they felt familiar. Hermione had told her about them! Which meant that this last boy must be none other than...Ron Weasley! Sophronia forgot her hand in excitement at having found her sister’s friend and took a step away from the wall to go get him. Then she remembered Hermione’s orders. Now was not the time to disobey, not after what she’d just done. She would have to get him to come to her.

“Ron! Hey, Ron!” she yelled waving her good arm to try and draw his attention. He didn’t hear her over the noisy chatter of all those in Diagon Alley. “Ron! Over here!” she tried again, a little louder. Still nothing. He’d started to walk off and would disappear into the crowd if she didn’t get his attention soon. Taking a deep breath, she yelled one final time, louder than ever, “RON WEASLEY!!!”

That caught his attention. Ron immediately stopped walking and looked around in confusion for who had called his name. Sophronia waved her hand in the air, wincing as the blistered one got jostled, then motioned for him to come over. He did, though hesitantly, with the utmost confusion.

Once within a couple feet and sure he didn’t recognize her, Ron began to question, “Who–“ but was cut off by another cry of, “Ron!” By the expression on his face, he was prepared to see somebody else he didn’t know calling for him, but instead looked relieved when he saw Hermione hurrying over to them.

“Um...Hi, Hermione.” Sophronia stifled her giggle at the slightly awkward way they acted when Hermione got closer, as if they didn’t quite know how to greet each other after not seeing each other for two months –whether with a hug or a handshake or just a nod. Hermione used the item in her hand to her advantage, sort of as an excuse for not making physical contact.

Instead she inquired, “It’s so good to see you. Had a good summer, I hope? Have fun in Egypt?” followed by a pause.

“Yeah, s’all right. You?” Another slight pause.

“It was fine.”

‘This is painful to listen to,’ Sophronia sighed to herself. Deciding to come to the rescue, she opted to play the selfish little sister and draw attention to the fact that her hand was not only deep purple but almost entirely covered in blisters. It was disgustingly cool. “Hermione, my hand...”

“Oh, right! Sorry.” Hermione held the bottle up to show she’d found something and began trying to twist the cap off. Ron glanced between the two, still clueless. Hermione was oblivious to this, so Sophronia took it upon herself.

Sticking out her good hand, she introduced, “I’m Sophronia.”

Ron shook it, his face torn between confusion as to who this new little person was and amusement at her boldness, “Ron Weasley, though I guess you already–“

”Of course I already know who you are. I’ve heard a lot about you. –Haven’t you gotten that cap off yet, Hermione?” Hermione made a face and held the still-sealed bottle up in frustration. Ron rolled his eyes, took the bottle from her, and popped the cap off in one twist, then looked at the label to see what he’d just opened. The name was unfamiliar so he did the common boy thing to do and smelled it. His face screwed up in disgust and he quickly shoved the bottle back to Hermione.

“What is that stuff?”

“Creiken burn ointment,” Hermione replied as if that explained everything. “Give me your hand, Sophronia.” Sophronia obeyed and all three showed disgust in various ways.

“What happened?”

“Creiken burn.”

“Hence the creiken burn ointment,” Sophronia giggled, earning a raised eyebrow from Hermione. The latter grabbed her little sisters wrist and held her poor hand out away from everybody, then proceeded to pour the contents of the bottle out onto it, allowing the thick dark green liquid to flow freely and flood off onto the sidewalk below where it steamed before disappearing.

“The apothecary said just to pour this on and your hand should be fine in about five minutes. He’s still in there trying to snap those creiken eggs off the floor,” Hermione explained, moving Sophronia’s hand around in order to inspect it from all angles.

“Erm... I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what’s a creiken?” Ron inquired, still staring at Sophronia’s hand.

Hermione turned to him and rattled off in her usual know-all way, “Creikens are a creature that sort of resemble lizards, about five inches long, and they breathe frigid air that turns things into ice. So, naturally, their eggs freeze everything they touch. There are two known antidotes for the freezing burns, one of which–“

”And, um, how exactly did creikens burn your hand?” Ron interrupted, not really caring what the known antidotes were, who discovered them, when, how they were named, and what other useful things creikens could do.

“She stuck her hand in a barrel of their eggs.”

Sophronia frowned and defended, “I didn’t know they were going to freeze my hand!”

“There was a sign, Sophronia. You need to think before you do things–“

”But–“

”Mum and Dad told me to watch out for you but I can’t if–“

”I know, but–“

”–you go around sticking your hand in every mysterious substance you come across, and–“

”Woah, woah. Hold on a minute. You’re sisters?”

“Yes.” The reply came simultaneously from both, who then stopped their arguing to look at Ron expectantly.

“I– you have a sister, Hermione?”

“Yes, me!”

“Of course I have a sister, Ron. I’ve mentioned her before.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You would if you and Harry ever listened to me,” Hermione rolled her eyes, pretending to be offended.

Ron shrugged, “Well, this makes much more sense. I wasn’t sure how you knew my name. I mean, not that you’d be the first adoring fan of mine–“

”Oh, get off yourself, Ron,” Hermione laughed and, just like that, any awkward atmosphere at all was gone and things were right back to where they had been at the end of the previous school year. Well, except for the addition of Sophronia. With the hand emergency out of the way, Hermione said half to her sister, half to Ron, “We’ve got some more shopping, still.”

“Let’s a-go, then!” Sophronia grinned, her eagerness returned in full.

Ron gave her an amused look, then asked, “You’re a First Year now?”

“Precisely,” the younger Granger nodded, mimicking the way Hermione often said the word. Ron caught the rib and sniggered, though Hermione hadn’t noticed.

“Have you all your school supplies?” she asked Ron.

He shook his head, “Not yet. I’ve still got to get my books and Mum’s given me money for a new wand.”

“You need one. No more slug-incidents, thank you.” The three began walking, Hermione grabbing her sister’s cauldron and taking hold of Sophronia’s good hand to prevent any separation problem.

“What’s the slug-incident?” Sophronia asked. Ron shook his head but Hermione happily related the occasion on which Ron had tried to perform a spell on Draco –“Draco Malfoy? Oh, he’s the really mean one, isn’t he, Hermione? The...the arrogant, asinine, poor-excuse-for a wizard?”– which back-fired thanks to Ron’s broken wand and resulted in Ron, who was only trying to stick up for a friend, vomiting up slugs for a couple hours.

“That’s gross!” Sophronia made a face. “Could you feel them coming up your throat? Were they in your stomach or did they just appear?”

Hermione shook her head with disgust and ordered, “Don’t question it, Sophronia. It’s just nasty.”