            An invisible cork popped free, the ghost’s grey matter streaming out from the thin spout like steam from a kettle. Hermione stepped back, peering up as the Bloody Baron re-formed in the air, two feet off the ground between herself and Lucius. She had already immobilized him with the initial trapping spell, and his once-rich clothes hung loosely around his limp limbs. As the Baron’s eyes stared back, she felt his rage, his fear, his confusion seeping into her. He could not move. Could not speak. Sickness clawed at her throat, roiling through her stomach. It was supposed to be easier, than experimenting on a House Elf. Bile climbed into her mouth. There was nothing easy about this, not when the ghost was facing her, helpless and frozen. Hermione let her wand clatter to the ground and fell to her knees.