The large banner reading "All hail the Ice Queen’ was just the beginning. The jokes were mostly harmless, like floating snowflakes towards her when she answered a question in class. Other times, she’d dip her quill in the ink pot to discover the ink was frozen solid. Most days, there was usually some interference with her meal. The boys would freeze her utensils to the table. Other days, post-it parchments would be left charmed to her door in Ron’s handwriting calling her a cold bitch or something along those lines. On one hand, Hermione wanted to continue taking the high road. If she gave them the reaction they wanted, Ron and his minions would only be encouraged. But the hidden part of herself could only maintain an air of indifference for so long. Anger was bubbling up under the surface. 