            Ropes flew out from the tip of Lavender’s wand, hurtling towards Hermione’s wrists and snapping them together behind her back. Yelping, Hermione tried to twist free, but the rough ropes only pulled tighter, and her shoes refused to budge. Hermione looked desperately at the Fat Lady’s portrait, hoping to call for help, but the woman was snoozing in her frame, a bottle of wine from another painting clutched between her plump fingers. "Ron didn’t invite me, okay! Merlin, Lavender, are you really that naïve?"