"Why would I be upset? I wasn’t the one struck by my own fiancé." Hermione hisses, lowering her wand. Tom reaches into his pocket, pulling out a silver case. He opens it as she watches, and slides a single cigarette from the case. He gestures for her to open her lips and she lets out a derisive laugh. His eyes are soft, asking her to humor him. She parts her lips, allowing him to carefully place the cigarette between. With a snap the cigarette is lit—he smiles even as she blows a plume of smoke into his face.