She entered the Potion’s classroom with her hand wrapped in the cuffs of her jumper, her bag slung over her shoulder. There was a seating chart on the front bench, and she quickly located her seat somewhere near the middle of the classroom. Her neighbours weren’t bad, and would ask her for notes, but group projects were few and far between in NEWT years. She gets out her things, adjusting the layout of the desk to her preferences and ignoring the looks from the seventh-year purebloods who stare at her lined notepad and biro. She sucked in a breath of the cool dungeon air as Professor Black walked in, her presence demanding silence. She coughed, just to ensure that people were focussed on her, and started writing on the blackboard behind her.