Hermione didn't know who to trust. The secret alliances that she knew about and the ones she suspected were enough to make her head burn with agony. Why couldn't one of these ridiculous factions interested in taking over the authority left behind by the Dark Lord's murder just get on with it? While she could understand the reasoning behind waiting around in hopes that another less-capable group would get the job of eliminating their enemies out of the way, it didn't make the waiting around any less infuriating. The entire country felt like a powder keg waiting to blow. It was enough to drive anyone mad and she hadn't been at her peak mental performance in longer than she cared to acknowledge.