Sunset in mid-July didn't usually occur until almost ten o'clock in the evening. It was Hermione's least favorite time of year. Somehow it seemed wrong that there was daylight for so many hours a day, especially when she was unable to leave the confines of her home. Sheer boredom encouraged her to stand at the sink helping Antonin with the dishes. Something was going to have to change soon. She was starting to feel like she did in the Resistance's village in Devon. There had been nothing to do there but stare at the canvas walls of her tent.