Harry was the last to pop out, a split second behind Ron, rush of voices threatening to round the corner at any moment. By the time he popped in with the others, the hands peeking out from too-long sleeves were his own, and he could feel the familiar tangle of his own hair at the back of his neck, and knew that if he took off his glasses, he'd be squinting again.
He took a second to catch his breath, tucking his wand away again and touching his pocket, where he'd shoved the re-wrapped locket. "Well. . . that could have gone worse."
He peered at Hermione a bit worriedly. "Hermione, you all right there?"