"Speaking of Menaces," Hermione spoke, a sadistic grin growing on her face before nodding her head towards the Gryffindor table. Spinning around Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, Henry Potter and Ronald Weasley were sitting alone at the end of the long rectangular table. Everyone had moved away giving them a wide berth once they had read or listened to someone read the article. But the dark bags under their eyes from no sleep and the shakes in their hands as they drank gave Harry a perverse pleasure to watch. It filled him with warmth and vindication that his soulmate and twin brother cared about him enough to curse them so badly, and to not let it up yet, on their own brother. Everyone in the Great Hall seemed to be taking turns between laughing at the angry second years and muttering to their friends about the article, shooting them and the Headmaster glares.