            Hermione stomped past him, fingers curled into fists as she spun back around, unable to just walk away. Magic sparked in her curls. "This is what it’s really about, isn’t it? Me being at the manor. With the enemy. Clearly you weren’t snogging any French girls. I suppose it was rather silly of me to assume a boy like you could land someone who hasn’t felt sorry for you since we were twelve."