Oliver might have been just as stubborn as each of his parents, but he was never defiant. Especially not openly. Her son stood in the middle of the lounge with his arms crossed over his chest, refusing to budge an inch towards the hidden staircase up to his room. Hermione would have almost admired him if she wasn't already so frustrated and feeling helpless. She didn't have time to deal with a petulant child. Not when their futures were at stake.