Four hands instead of three reached to the statue before the world became a whirlpool of colors. Hermione fell on the damp forest ground, slightly nauseous from all the spinning. She stood up, trying to figure out who the odd one out was. And there he was, lying on the ground, slightly grimacing. Hermione fought the impulse to check on his wounds. Draco seemed fine. The pain was a side-effect of using a portkey so soon after a serious injury. Her eyes met Ron’s, who seemed equally enraged as she was.