            Hermione stopped. She kept her eyes glued to an askew Muggle calendar hanging to the left of the doorway. The first month of 1999 was already creeping towards its halfway point. She thought, idly, of the upcoming Valentine’s day. "I’m quite tired, Harry," Hermione said weakly, turning to face him. She took in the sag of his shoulders, the way his thin frame swam inside the pinstripe robes. Harry had always been on the scrawny side, but now...now he looked like he was fifteen again, drowning in a grownup’s costume. Hermione sighed and offered him a small smile. "I know you are too."