Hermione, who was, so far as Harry knew, still lying upstairs frozen in her hospital cot, and the impetus for Harry’s descent in the first place. He gave near about zero fucks about the Weasley girl; she, and her brothers, had been nuisances since he’d ever met them. Paragons for the Light and its maddening delight with muggle theological purity; devotees of their wonderful  Headmaster, sycophants so up his ass they could kiss his tonsils; thorns in Harry’s side, bastards through and through, and oh so very envious of his unwanted fame.