His hair was long—past his shoulders—and it looked a little scraggly. The white shirt that lay beneath the open waistcoat was creased and untucked from the black trousers he sported. Hermione wondered for a moment how long she had been there, for his hair was a good inch longer than it had been, and his face was gaunt and paler than she remembered. She opened her mouth to speak and found that her voice was raspy and very faint. She was not about to let that stop her as she reached an arm in his direction.