Hermione stared at one of them now. She was used to spending her mornings by the Lake before the workday, where it was usually cold and moist – that helped clear her mind. But she had never seen something as suspicious there. She knew she should’ve done something – attacked the Death Eater herself or at least screamed for help – but she did nothing, feeling immobilized – not by fear, but by fascination. She watched as the figure took a few steps forward, their black cloak fluttering in the invisible wind. They ascended through the fog and seemed to float through the ground. Hermione noticed something in their arms – a petite frame.