Neville sat at Hermione’s right, and Ron at her left, and Harry across from her, and all Hermione could think as she soaked up the warmth of her friends presences, was, he’ll always be my blood, and, once a Death Eater always a Death Eater. She told herself they weren’t true, but the doubt Lucius had sowed in her mind wouldn’t go away. Lucius’s evil bloody words circled around and around in her head like vultures, making her heart skitter and race. Hermione felt trembly and weak and nauseous. She must have looked worse even than the others, because Ron put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.