It's half past one, and Hermione stands bundled in her cloak and boots, feeling the fresh, cold night air whisk over her cheeks and chill her nose, and looks around. This part of the garden is open to the night, with the formal low herb garden to the left and the perfectly well-manicured roses sprawling out at the right. It's lovely, and beautiful, but very...exposed. Hermione feels naked and vulnerable. It's a horrible feeling to have, and it infuriates her that she feels it. But she feels it nonetheless, and she doesn't see the point in making herself feel nervy and miserable just to try to get over this agoraphobic feeling. This trip out of Malfoy's room is supposed to be fun, not another ordeal.