"Delicious," Ginny said heartily, unfolding herself from Hermione's bed and glancing down at Hermione, who made no move to get up. "Aren't you coming down for lunch?" Ginny asked, and Hermione shook her head, poring over the stitching on her spaulders – the mended tears and the lacy, tickling feeling of the spells imbued into the leather.