Lavender – who had, in fact, been a very kind girl, something Hermione had only understood years later, once she’d rid herself of her belief that liking pink made one frivolous and that frivolity couldn’t be a strength -  had knelt down at Hermione’s feet and untied her ramshackle sock-tie arrangement with the gentlest of hands. Softly, she had explained to her that these strings were intended to be tied to little detached pocket-bags one might suspend from them, which could then be accessed through a heretofore mysterious slit in her outer robes.