Slowly, she lowered herself onto the cushioned window seat that sat partially hidden by the thick curtains that hung from each side. She had just taken off her dress she had worn for the day, followed with slipping into a loose, charcoal-colored, silky nightgown she found in the armoire. She raised a leg to rest her foot against the cushion, soon leaning her chin on the depths of her knee. Her mind, for just a moment wrapped around the hatred she had for Voldemort and herself for what she had gotten into, her thoughts soon melted into the bittersweet peacefulness of the memory of Ron and Harry.