No one had any information about what really happened in London. Or if they did, they couldn't be arsed to care whether or not Hermione knew. As soon as she left Lee's shed the evening before, she walked around the village, ignoring the laughter and joyful voices of her fellow residents. Never before had she felt so distant, so other, from the people she lived amongst. What happened at the Leaky Cauldron was a cause for celebration in their minds. She cared about too many people who were likely there to even consider the potential positive ramifications of the attack.