Hermione brushed past her.  Pansy looked a fright.  Her hair, always her best feature, hung lank and dirty around a face shadowed with pockets of grey.  She'd lost weight, and a body Hermione had always considered too bony to be attractive now looked nearly skeletal.  Harry reached out a hand to pat awkwardly at the ill girl but she danced out of his reach with an ease that seemed out of place with her haggard appearance.   "Keep your hands to yourself, Potter," she said.  