Hermione had tried hard to conceptualise that, on those rare occasions that she wasn't simply consumed with worry over him. A mind with seven levels ... what the hell did that mean? She struggled to even define it, let alone picture what it might look like. She only had one plain in her own mind, but she still didn't know how she might describe that ... so to imagine Harry with seven, all filled with his internal darknesses, was something that was, frankly, beyond her powers of comprehension.