Hermione did her best to return the kiss. The sooner she was out of here and in her own bed (or Ron's), the happier she'd be. Even though she'd been frozen for much of it, she'd never quite gotten over spending those dreadful weeks in the Infirmary as a cat-girl and then as a statue.
"No problems with magic? You're the first person I've spoken to in weeks who's said that!" She couldn't help sitting up at that, and grimaced as a trace of the headache reasserted itself. "That includes my co-workers."
She bit her lip to stop herself. Some of this was classified, but seeing Jack Fraser, of all people, chucking his wand into the trash and storming out because he'd wrecked a coffepot -