She tried again now, without her wand, to grow a daisy and watch it bloom. But now that Hermione was aware of the unconscious growth, the grass stayed still and nothing grew. It was when she was actively looking, and willing it into existence did it not happen. When she rose from her cosy carved-out space, there was no mistaking it though. The grass had grown inches, extending their fingers up against her, and in her place was now an impression of her folded legs.