            With a glance at her watch—a delicate, gold piece given to her by Ginny after the young woman insisted she’d never wear the birthday present herself—Hermione rose from the bench. Her knees creaked, and her bones popped as she stretched out her back. It was time to get back to redacting a rather complicated report destined for the press office. Not that there’ll be anything interesting left, once I’m through with it. Hermione always had tight instructions when it came to such matters. Though the report on the magical potency of comatose brains had been rather riveting, she knew any true breakthroughs wouldn’t make it to the public for some time.