Young Malfoy staggered backwards, out of reach of the cloud that had stirred itself into a frenzy around the entire cottage. Bits of wood and glass flew through the air, landing with almighty bangs on the ground. The door flew off its hinges, and Hermione saw the faint outline of her grandmother as the old woman clung to what was left of the door frame. She was yelling out Hermione’s name, cooing to the black wind as if it could understand her. 