"I am the best. I’m the best spymistress," Hermione said pointedly. "Not lady’s maid." She wriggled into the periwinkle-blue dress robes she’d bought at Twilfitt & Tattings. As usual, her hair was only marginally improved by a liberal squirt of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion, but the blue of her robes looked remarkably pretty against the caramel brownness of her skin, hair and eyes. Even Pansy pronounced her passable.