That same ear-piercing shriek came from the hallway again. Harry knew all too well who it was; Sirius Black's mother, moaning that there were vermin in her house once again. The person she was shrieking at was not clear, however, because according to Mrs. Black, anyone not of pure-blood was filth. And, quite frankly, Harry didn't know many pure bloods. Neither of the two Gryffindors were, obviously. Nor were many members of the Order of the Phoenix, for that matter. Green eyes shot around the room and up the staircase, whoever the intruder was, Harry felt that it wasn't one with good intentions.

A deep frown encased the teens face as he scraped his mind for things to do. They could apparate now, of course. But Harry wondered whether confronting the person would be in their best interests. Being in that house, actually, was not in their best interests. But, if the person was someone dangerous, which Harry Potter was pretty certain that it was, confrontation would not be a good idea. But, if they did not, they'd certainly never catch up in time. And letting him go could be just as, if not more, dangerous than choosing to fight.

The dark haired wizard glanced back at Hermione. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was put her in danger. However, to him, just being there was dangerous to her. Even though he knew Hermione Granger would argue that statement. He watched her for a moment, a convincing expression upon his handsome facial features.

They'd have to Apparate after all...

"Hold on to my hand." He asked of her in a commanding, slightly impatient way. If there was one thing he wasn't, it was patient. Hermione was smart enough, Harry decided, to know exactly what he was preparing to do.