When her feet landed on a hard surface again, Hermione's legs became wobbly and unable to withhold her weight. With the sound of the midnight hour chiming away on some ghastly obnoxious mantel clock, the witch fell to the ground flat on her arse. The hand belonging to the mysterious person released its grip lest they tumble to the ground as well. As she laid on the hardwood floor feeling the room around her spin, she thought that surely there was a less ignoble way to go.