Hermione was manic. Her eyes were wide, she was breathing heavily, trembling on the spot. Her words and anxieties all poured out of her. Ron and Harry could just watch, a bit helpless. They never considered that in this whole fucked up scenario, Hermione’s own burden; she was a muggle-born woman. Death Eaters would express their cruelty uniquely for her. Harry suddenly moved forward, and enveloped her in a big hug. Ron followed suit, wrapping his large arms around the both of them. Hermione stilled, and then tried to push them off, before eventually relaxing into the hug, burying her face into Harry’s jumper.