Sure enough, to add to her already bad mood, her eyes suddenly fell upon a heap of pink clothes in the corner of the room that turned out to be a heap of Lavender sitting in Ron’s lap, her tongue so far down his throat Hermione thought she could become a Dementor. Hermione stood up quickly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, and strode across the room towards the portrait hole. She caught Harry’s eye as she was climbing out of the hole and shook her head at him, not wanting to be followed and consoled. She just wanted to be alone and hate Ron in silence.