Neville’s eyes were mutinous, but he said nothing. The air between the four of them was charged, volatile with emotion. It made the hair along Hermione’s arms stand on end. It needed no saying, really, but the sense of dread that was settling over them now foretold that this situation would not end well. As if she hadn’t already known that. Again, she wished Draco had just killed him outright back in Knockturn Alley. Or that she had done it before he’d even had a chance to open his mouth.