After the dreadful duel with Thomas (neither winning it nor disliking her opponent had made her feel any better about the boy being half-pecked to death by his own conjured birds!), Jemima had crossed her fingers for an uneventful second round of the tournament.

If she was less-than-pleased to now be up against a Miss Lestrange who was not Frida, she did her best not to show that she was intimidated. Fighting the urge to shut her eyes against the whirl of sand coming her way, Jemima attempted a spell that might turn the sand to a shower of flower blossoms.

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