Being nineteen was a strange thought for Hermione, she felt like she had lived a hundred years already with the collective experiences she had had. She loved every moment with Draco, she felt young and free, anything was possible, she was on track to pass all her N.E.W.T.s with Outstanding grades, she had a wonderful group of friends which despite her protests at the start of the year kept growing, she loved music and dancing and was so happy to know that the house had welcomed it and her so quickly. The whole year was a culture shock, a fast track ticket to yet another life lesson. She had almost finished her essay, which had turned into more of a thesis at this point, about the Hogwarts houses and the hierarchy it formulated within the castle and by extension the wizarding world; at least in Britain. 