Her attention was rudely snatched away from that particular pondering, when the post owls swooped in with mail. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the image of familiar blonde hair on the cover of The Profit that Neville had just opened. She’d been mid-thought and mid-toast-bite, but dropped both as she rose from her seat and made her way over to him, causing all the nearby Gryffindors and a few Hufflepuffs to turn and stare.