"Hi Harry," she practices, pinning an awkward smile on her face. She looks stilted and garish to her own eyes, and she sighs. It's pointless anyway; Hermione doubts there will be any casual greetings like that for some time. Even just thinking about seeing everyone again makes her chin tremble uncontrollably and her eyes well up salty and wet, her arms itch with the need to fling herself at them and hug them half to death. But there is also that part of her that feels overwhelmed at the thought, and wants to retreat to her armchair in the corner of Malfoy's room and half-hide in a rug. It's all too much. She can't even imagine properly how it will feel to see them again.