Blaise Zabini stood in the shop’s center. Finger by finger, he peeled off thick leather gloves, laid them atop one another, and stowed them in his cloak’s pocket. Astoria Greengrass paced a circle around him, assessing Hermione’s wands with a derisive sneer. She kept her hands tucked into her cloak. Hermione had no doubt that her right hand gripped her wand.