Hermione stared at her reflection in the toothpaste-speckled mirror of her flat. She could have given Draco a run for his money, with the dark circles that deepened her under eyes. She ran a solvere charm through her hair, which ended up bushier than it had in days. She’d overslept again, it was nearly nine – no time for a shower, though she had no real interest in taking one anyway. 