[center][img= http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v75/3monica6/s_zps249df3b1.png][/center] Emmy had every intention of going to the welcoming speech, she really did. She even went overboard with preparation, stuffing her backpack with an assortment of items she liked to call [i]Ultimate Time Wasters, things to do so I don't get restless[/i]: the latest generation of handheld consoles, three volumes of Marvel comic books (she took them randomly off her shelf, so she has no idea what she got), and two decks of cards—one muggle and one wizarding. See? It was all there, carefully chosen to last her all of two hours. Emmy liked Mr. Grayson, and she wanted to be a good student for him at least one day out of the whole school year. One day when she would be punctual, behaved, attentive… the whole enchilada. Commencement Day was the best time to do it; it counts as a school day, but without all the hassle of an actual one. By the time she arrived at the auditorium, students old and new were slowly filling the seats, their greeting and catching up with each other coalescing into a cacophony of indistinguishable chatter. Emmy would have joined in gladly, but her eyes just happened to find the clock hanging by the left wall. Its hand seemed to move slower than usual, as though it was taunting her with a precursor to the next couple of hours, and she wavered almost immediately. She had every intention of going, but then the willpower she had mustered just for this day seeped out all at once, like when you go to the bathroom after holding in your pee for way too long (or, y'know, a more appropriate metaphor), and she was already running out the room, fighting the current of students filing in. Emmy was out in the courtyards before she realized. The brisk autumn wind was a welcome change from the stuffy indoor air; it tickled her nose and lapped curly locks into her face, splaying the strands every which way. Ah, so much better. She always did appreciate the sense of mystery autumn brings as it covers the world in reds and browns. There was something inherently spooky about the season where everything starts to wither and die, its darkening skies leaving no trace of the energetic summer atmosphere. Smiling sheepishly, she gave the auditorium a fleeting glance and skittered off to a random direction, obviously unapologetic as she searched for things to do. About ten different ideas were already brewing in her head. She could check out the supposedly abandoned shack at the easternmost corner of the campus, where an evil presence is rumored to lurk about, cursing anyone who comes close with a spell that induces the symptoms of Vanishing Sickness. Or, she could drop by the Herbology greenhouses and look for the entrance to a passage rumored to lead to some sort of crypt. If it was true, no one has ever happened by it, even though it was said to be hidden in plain sight. There was also— The familiar sound of the guitar made her ears perk up, immediately breaking her train of thought. [i]Salem![/i] She knew instinctively who it was. If she were a dog, her tail would have been wagging happily. Emmy pinpointed the source of the sound with frightening speed and accuracy, and she found him within a minute. She bounded toward him excitedly, practically jumping on him as she went in for a hug. There were a lot of things she missed about Kingsridge when she went home for the holidays—the feasts, the mysteries, the pranks—and Salem was at the top of the list. There was something about him that always puts her at ease, and she would be reminded of… well, no use dwelling on that now. "Hey you! How have you been?" She gave him another fond squeeze before letting go to greet his familiar. She crouched down next to the python curling around the tree and stroked its head gently. "You know, I still don't know who'd win in a fight between you and Mr. Fredrickson." To their left, she noticed Starbolt Tom (how fitting that he was on his broom) talking with—oh! Was that Nova Parver? She didn't want to intrude in whatever they were doing, but she made a mental note to talk to her later. She had yet to get acquainted with her new roommate, after all.