Emmeline M. Abbott

Emmeline hated how no one at Hogwarts treated the shelves well. There wasn't really a librarian, and although the books were supposed to magically work themselves back into place, they never actually did. So Emmeline did.

He moved a cart down to the front of the aisle, because the aisle was so narrow that the cart was filled with books that it would never fit. So he had to stay between the shelves, and instead to one side of them, where the study tables were.

That meant she had to walk back and forth every time to get a book. They were too heavy to carry all at once, and she'd forgotten her wand and didn't want to walk all the way back to Ravenclaw Tower.

She pulled her blue raven claw scarf and hung it over the side of the cart as she reached for a book, the library was empty as it was so early in the morning.

Sunlight filtered through the windows, the carpeted floor bathed in light. She loved the library early in the morning—so many books, so few people to bother her.

He pushed the cart in front of a shelf, counting all the books he had to find and put away. 36...37...38. Fewer than usual.

Her hands gripped the sides of the book delicately. Many books at Hogwarts were old, and she always felt she had to be very careful with them, as if they were ancient relics or something.

Quidditch Through The Ages.

Emmeline laughed. "Really?" She didn't hate Quidditch, but she was bothered by how much the Gryffindor boys were obsessed with it. It was fun, until you got so mean about it that the teams started bombing each other. (The Quidditch team's prank wars had become a full-blown thing.)

"Emmeline?" A voice called out.

Emmeline dropped the book with a thump. Everyone knew she was pretty easy to scare.