Hermione remained facing the front of the room, still as a statue. I stared at her back, biting my bottom lip in an attempt to stop my heavy breathing. This was the second time I had been alone with her. Five minutes … it didn’t seem that long, but a lot could happen in five minutes, right? I cleared my throat.

Then I remembered I was angry. “What?” I snapped, and my brows simultaneously slanted forward.

Hermione exhaled shallowly, twisting her fingers together. “Can I sit down?”

I glared at the unoccupied seat across from me. I was about to say no when she pulled it out from beneath the table and sat anyway. I wanted to tell her to leave me alone, but I couldn’t find the right words to say. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I wanted her to know how much she had hurt me. Rejection did not sit well with me, no matter what form or phrase it came in.