Her eyes flicked towards the woman making her way towards her, taking her in. The ready smile was expected and relaxingly welcoming, though there was probably nothing Martha could do to calm Hermione down completely; she was rather naturally high strung.

Still, she met Martha's eye and shook her hand firmly (politics has taught her a lot of things, such as stare them down, though in this case it's much more friendly). "Hermione Granger," she said, smiling in return. "It's a pleasure."

She'd already assumed from how Martha had spoken over the network that she knew a little about her, which was unnerving considering her source; most likely Martha was expecting a frizzy-haired knowitall who couldn't keep her mouth shut or whatever it was Snape felt like referring to her as, which- well, it wasn't all that she was. She hoped.

"Thanks for inviting me," she added. "I'm fairly sure I'd be a little lost for what to do otherwise."