Setting the stirring rod down on the table next to the cauldron, Hermione turned to look at the wizard. He was thinner than he had been. Dark circles were clear under his exhausted eyes. His pale skin was an unhealthy pallor that made him appear to be sick. Maybe he was. If he was still keeping up the punishing tracking schedule he kept as a way to avoid the rest of the Inner Circle and their dying master, she wouldn't be surprised. He probably hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks, months even.