Granger was coming out of the washroom attached to her room when she spotted Pansy, sitting prim and proper (and large, can't forget large) in the little sitting area across from the bed. The woman paused and Pansy could clearly see the questions rise in her eyes before they went absolutely dead. Eerily so. She looked... like she was fading. Literally. Everything about her was slightly dull. Her skin, her eyes, even the rather sentient hair was somehow... restrained. She was painfully thin, the clothes she wore hanging off her as though they'd belonged to someone else entirely. She supposed, after a moment's reflection, that that was true. The only thing that seemed to show any sparkle or life or... animation on her person was a thin silver chain dangling from around her neck. Granger's hand came up, touching the charm (a little silver book, how predictable) before she sat across from Pansy, knees and hands clasped tightly.