"We’re not wasting time and effort on fiddly, unnecessary spells when there’s plenty of room available already, Draco," Remus answered, still calm and Hermione gnawed at her lip, shuffling forward onto the edge of the armchair, ready to get up and drag Draco out of the lounge if needed. He looked like he was about to explode, or perhaps crumble apart, a vein in his temple throbbing and his mouth sneering and furious, his fist trembling a little. Hermione swore inwardly, berating herself. She should have fobbed the others off as soon as Draco had gotten back. She had seen he was upset, but she’d thought he would be fine for five minutes while she extracted herself unsuspiciously from the incessant girl talk. She should have gone downstairs. Damnit. She was a terrible girlfriend.