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Snape ignored the perpetrators. They were in his house, of course; Pansy and the Bulstrode girl, who looked like a footballer, instigated the whole thing, though countless others watched.

In the middle of the mob, tiny Granger dangled softly from the sky, her round face stoic, her wild hair reaching desperately for the ground. Snape undid it all with a few wordless flicks of his wand, and the crowd dispersed, disappointed.

Hermione stayed motionless on the ground until she saw that they were all gone. Snape could see her crisp blue underpants. “Cover yourself,” he growled. Blushing, she obliged.