They land somewhere with a sickening crack, Malfoy's arms tight around her and her stomach lurching wildly, nausea seizing it in a rhythmically clenching fist. An alarm sounds, cutting through the air with a wailing that only makes the nausea worse, and Hermione turns in Malfoy's grip and throws up on the floor. It's wooden, she notices inanely as he lets her go, gagging himself.