Since the vision of Narcissa’s murder, Hermione had been on pins and needles. There was a flaming indignation coursing throughout her bloodstream.  It was taking everything within her to tame the fury and embrace the same patience that Draco had lived with for so many months. She yearned to go to Harry, to show him the evidence of the memory in a vial. He could observe the true murderer himself in a Pensive. He had to know that Dawlish had unwittingly played a role; he wasn’t the mastermind.