Hermione had told Pansy to stay behind, that she could spend the rest of her afternoon as she wished. Neville and Luna were occupied tending to Draco, likely stationed outside his office in silent misery. Hermione wondered if she could pry them away from Draco’s grasp—but it was too soon. They were nothing but shiny new toys to him to gloat over and pose them how he wished, exerting his will over them like they were without sentience.