What was it about books that smelt so darn incredible? It didn't matter if they were old or new, stored or read, they always seemed to have an inviting smell to Holly. Sometimes it didn't even matter what was written inside it's pages, she could just sit down with a book and enjoy it's essence. Of course, she would look rather daft smelling a random book off a random shelf, which is why she left that sort of activity to her bedroom back home. But she wouldn't let that little nugget of information slip here anyway, it could thwaite her chances of making friends. Or so her older sister had told her.

"What do you know, anyway?" she muttered hoping nobody else heard her.

Now, here she sat in possibly one of the most comfortable chairs she had ever sat in, with a book not belonging to this library. No, she had bought along her own small collection of books to read throughout the term. Some of which were her sister's works. Though Holly would never admit it, Ashleigh had quite the knack for story telling. Holly distinctly remembered some of the bedtime stories Ashleigh had made up when the two were much younger. She had always admired that about her older sister. She aspired to be half the woman her sister was becoming, even more so with their mother.

She did miss her mother, very much so. But she was positive she would soon get into the swing of things here at Hogwarts soon enough.

The first year shuffled herself around a little in the chair to get herself more comfortable and opened the book to the first page and began reading. She'd read it before but this was one of her favorites, of course she couldn't resist reading it again.