People hurried past her in relative silence. Hermione was in a middle-class part of the city where the inhabitants were all intent upon their business of making as much money as possible, no doubt in the hopes of sidling into the Rich Quarters of the city. She probably stuck out like a sore thumb. Her robes were much-darned and tattered, her cloak obviously shoddy; if she didn’t watch out she’d probably be kicked out for loitering by some suspicious official. What to do?