Beverly Wayne was SICK of snow. She was ready for a nice and warm sun. Maybe even a beach, some sand and refreshing pumpkin juice. The Slytherin was daydreaming that as she entered the Transfiguration classroom, but the dream quickly dissipated when she saw MORE snow. BAH!

She inhaled a deep, calming breath. She wasn't a child to throw a tantrum. She was a clever and independent witch. Yes, yes.

"Good day, Professor Bellaire," she greeted. Then pulling her cloak tighter around herself, Beverly took steps forward and took a spot next to a familiar boy.

"Hi, Lute Boy." And say hi to your new name.