All pretenses dropped away. His hand came down to rest lightly against his chest and all traces of amusement, of playfulness, of sleepy befuddlement, were gone as he met her eyes with his. "No. You goddamnit, Hermione. We just risked our lives for you. And I know you didn't ask," he forestalled her intended interruption with narrowed eyes, "but we did. You weren't in any fit state to make those sorts of decisions. You had actively been telling us not to do anything, for months. You can't sit there, with your magic back and your head screwed on the right fucking way, and tell me that what we did wasn't necessary."