She shook her head in disagreement, angry – all the more so because of the thoughts of Draco that trickled in inexorably; frightening, confusing, wrong thoughts. What would Harry say if he knew what she had done? She looked at Ron, sitting at the table even though he hadn’t been invited to the meeting. Hermione knew what he would say, and she never wanted to hear those words coming from him. Never wanted to see the crumpled, betrayed look on his face that she would see if he knew she’d kissed Draco Malfoy. The fucking ferret. The coward. The ex-Death Eater scum. She raised her voice at Harry.