While her stay at the Sanditon thus far hadn't been exactly eventful, neither had it been completely uneventful. She'd made a new friend, written to old ones, and had figured out that none of her family members in Hogsmeade were dead—yet. The notion of losing Abraxas or Aunt Belle or anyone, really, was a horrific notion, but she had the comfort of her immediate family's presence (which, she reminded herself, was better than some had it).

She'd ventured out of the room today with the hopes of catching a glimpse of Mr. Fudge, but was unable to find him even an hour after mindlessly wandering the building and surrounding beaches with her chaperon. She was just on her way back to her room—pout on her face and all—when she rounded a corned found herself face-to-face (or rather, face-to-torso, considering their height difference) with an older girl.

Brows furrowed in frustration, she was initially dead set on being rude and haughty, much like any bored and pouty eleven-year-old girl might be. "You need to—" she started before fortunately cutting herself off.

"I mean, I need to watch myself," she corrected, putting on a wide, but ultimately fake grin. "I would hate to be crushed to death before I can get to Hogwarts!"

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