Luna took one last, almost sad look at Celesca before leaving the room. Hermione turned and frowned at the two on the couch. They were already as thick as thieves and chattering away rapidly. Hermione moved to a cosy chair near to the window, where she could eavesdrop on the conversation without it looking like that's what she was doing, and took a book down from a case that was in an alcove there. She felt that immediate sense of contentment that having a book in her lap brought to her. She didn't even have to know what it was about. There were just fewer things more symbiotic in the world than Hermione Granger and some oversized tome between her fingers.