The Gryffindor girls' dormitory.
"What do you think is wrong with Hermione?" Parvati quietly turned her head and whispered into Lavender's ear.
Nearby, Hermione sat at her desk, buried in a book. Yet there was something forlorn about her back, and she turned the pages rather absentmindedly.
"Who knows? Maybe it's because she didn't have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Prewett this afternoon?"
Lavender looked at Hermione's back and murmured.
"Something's off. Really off," Parvati muttered, staring at Hermione's back. "Even when Hermione didn't have classes with Prewett before, she was always enthusiastic. She'd raise her hand to answer questions every time, or volunteer for the practical work."
"But think about it. Hermione only answered one question in Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon," Parvati continued with a frown.
Now that Parvati mentioned it, Lavender thought it was strange too. She tilted her head, looking at Hermione as she tried to recall what had happened in class that afternoon.
"That's right..." Remembering, Lavender sat up straight. "Hermione stayed at the back of the line all afternoon. She never faced the Boggart in the wardrobe."
"See? Isn't that strange?" Parvati said.
As Hermione's roommates and fellow Gryffindors, Parvati and Lavender knew perfectly well that she was usually a dazzling little sun in class.
She always eagerly answered the teachers' questions, and she never shied away from practical activities, stepping forward with confidence every time.
Yet in Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon, she had stayed huddled at the very back of the line.
That was rather unusual.
As far as Lavender was concerned, today's Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson had been great fun.
The newly arrived Professor Lupin had taken them to the Staff Room and released a Boggart from a wardrobe.
Every student had been stunned.