She was walking home from Azkaban after one of the meetings with Draco when a person she least expected to meet stood in her way, blocking her path, towering over her. It was George Weasley. Hermione clutched the Elder wand in her hand more tightly, ready for anything. During the last eight months she had seen, heard, witnessed and been on the receiving end of so much crap that nothing could shock her anymore, and she was ready to push back against anything.