Hermione wiggled her toes lazily, feeling the fire warming them even as they were tucked beneath a throw crocheted for her by Molly Weasley two Christmases ago. She turned the page of her book, curious to see what had happened at the Squib-Muggle Relations Conference of 1578, but was interrupted when Ron swore softly next to her.

"Oh, not another Mary Poppins!"

Her eyebrows shot up. She turned just in time to see him toss a card on the table in front of him while stuffing a still-wiggling chocolate frog into his mouth. He blinked at her quizzical glance. "What?" he mumbled stickily.

"Did you—" She stopped, then leaned forward. "Did you just say Mary Poppins? As in the nanny from the story?"

"Nanny?" Ron looked surprised. "Why would a past Head of Magical Education need to be a nanny?"

Hermione felt her jaw drop. "You have got to be joking."

"What for? Her card is right here—" He leaned over and picked it up from where it had landed. "—but I have two already." He extended his hand toward her. "See for yourself."

Hermione took the card from him, giving him an absent "Thanks," then sat back and scanned the text.

Marietta Persephone Poppins

Order of Merlin, Second Class

Head of the Department of Magical Learning, 1902-1967

Known to most as 'Mary,' Poppins made a name for herself in the wizarding world by standing at the forefront of developing and refining educational practices. She started the Foundation for Practical Magic in 1910 and has been known particularly in the advancement of magical fiber arts as coordination/motor skills development for school-aged children.

She is currently retired, living in the northwestern United States on a grant to study the effects of  umbrella usage on witches and wizards.

Hermione closed her mouth promptly. "Do you have any idea how popular this woman is with Muggles?"

"Muggles?" Ron looked scarcely nonplussed as he chewed the rest of his chocolate. "How?"

"They made a movie about her decades ago. She flies in on an umbrella, makes endless things appear out of her carpet bag, and teaches these two children how to—" Ron's snort of laughter cut her off. "What?"

"And you never thought, gosh, maybe she's a witch?"

"Of course not, Ronald. Muggles don't think that way. Although, I did think that maybe—" She stopped and looked back down at the card.

"Maybe what?" She felt rather than saw the small smile on his face.

"Oh, you know, children's nonsense." She turned the card over and looked at the picture, her voice quiet. "She did all those things nobody else could do, like I did…" She felt her cheeks heat up, which was silly of her considering the company. "I thought maybe she would show up at my door one day, take me away to a place where there would be more people like her. Like me."

"What, an island of smart?"

Hermione looked up sharply. "Ron!"

He held up his hands. "Joking, joking."  He took the card from her distracted grip and replaced it with his hand. "Although, in a sense, that's not far off, is it?"

"No, not really." She curled their fingers until her hand was enveloped in his warm palm. "Not really at all."