"Herrrrrrmione," Harry sing-songed as he sauntered toward her. She quirked her mouth at the change in him from who he was outside here. She could only let loose in this room as well. Hermione knew they were extreme, and possibly insane and definitely one-hundred percent fucked up given the plan they had. But when you mix crushing pressure, prophecies, war and death with hormones, coming out only slightly bonkers and moderately screwed up seemed acceptable.