#loc:kitchen

"Be that way then, Ronald Weasley!” Hermione shouted. She spun on her heel and stomped away, furious more with herself than with Ron; she was the one who shouldn’t have kept pushing, not right now. The wireless broadcast had upset all of them of course, but probably none more than the two Weasley siblings. But even under the best of circumstances Hermione wasn’t known for her gentle nature, and these were hardly the best of circumstances. If only there was something she could do! She didn’t do well with inaction (studying and research counted as action in her estimation of course; she didn’t require physical action, but she couldn’t stand just sitting around pointlessly -- uselessly!) and her own temper was nearly as frayed as Ron’s.

But maybe there was something she could do. Hermione paused on her way upstairs, one foot hanging in the air over the third step, fingers clutching tight at the worn banister. She blinked, then turned around and clattered back down the stairs. Forgoing the book that she had intended to try (probably without success) to distract herself with, Hermione instead barreled into the kitchen. She’d seen the person she wanted (strong word -- but in this case...) to talk to in there on her way inside after her argument with Ron, although she hadn’t paid him any attention at first; he was the last person she wanted to see after a shouting-match with any of her friends, especially Ron. But perhaps...

Hermione burst through the door and shoved an open cupboard closed and out of her way without really noticing it was there, nor the loud bang it made as the wooden door connected with its frame. “Malfoy!” she snapped. “Stop fooling around with that and--” She jerked to a stop, eyebrows shooting up, as she processed the sight in front of her -- or tried to anyway. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” she demanded.