THE SYMMETRICAL TRANSIT (DRAMOINE) BY EVERYTHURSDAY

Part 8

Day Sixty-Eight; 8:01pm

The door clicked shut and Hermione's head shot up. Dragging herself off the bed, she tripped twice on her way to see the door.

"What the fuck happened?" His face was contorted in confusion as he squeezed his hands together.

"I don't know! I went down there to try and explain to them that we weren't getting any heat in our room, and that it was as cold, if not colder, than outside, but they didn't get it! I think they got that I was cold, but no one came up here, even though I tried to motion for them to. And th-- What?"

"Is that my cloak you're wearing?" But he knew it had to be, because she didn't have one, and if she did, it certainly wouldn't look like the one she had on.

"Yes. And you can clean it, and Scourgify, and whatever, but I was cold -- I mean freezing -- and I had to bundle up as much as...as... What?"

The twitch at the corner of his mouth turned up into a lopsided smile and he shook his head. "Nothing."

"No, what? Do I have something on me? Am..." She looked down at herself, clueless.

"I just didn't realize how small you were before. You're like a child in her father's clothes or something."

Hermione glared at him. "It is not that bad."

"Not quite. But they swallow you."

"Well, yes. I'm short, and contrary to any beliefs, do not have a manly figure."

"I'm not sure who would believe that anyway," he muttered, and wasn't fazed at all when she gave him a look to see if he was actually serious. "You're not exactly without curves, Granger, and I'm not exactly blind. A two year-old can tell you're a woman, though it's curious you seem so surprised by it yourself."