Hermione mumbled a "yes’ through numbed lips as she zoomed in and took photos of the house, the silhouettes showing through the curtains, and the layout of the surrounding grounds. This was nothing like how Hermione thought it would be. Her sneakers were muddy, her fingers going numb with cold, her legs aching from crouching; and the other three seemed completely at home in this environment. They walked careful and silent, whispered in short threads of conversation and always understood each other, held their wands like they were ready and willing to do battle at any second. It had always been Hermione Granger who had been the best at everything, and now she felt like she was stumbling in the dark. Which she quite literally was, foot crunching on a twig that snapped with a sound that seemed utterly disproportionate to its size.