He glanced up as the library doors opened and Hermione stepped in. She looked better in some ways, and worse in others. When they'd spoken in December she'd been waif-like. Incredibly thin, scarily so. Pale and disheveled. Clothes hanging off her emaciated body. Her eyes, her full mouth, had looked too big in her thin face, cheekbones jutting out so harshly they cast shadows as far down as her jaw. Brittle. She'd looked so fucking fragile. Now... she was still thin, nearly painfully skinny. But there was color in her face, the dips and hollows had filled out some and her eyes looked more alive than he'd seen since their time at Hogwarts. Her hair was very long, but was brushed back and tamed as opposed to the mess it had been before. She was wearing an oversized hooded sweater that dipped in the front to reveal jutting collar bones and a pair of baggy sweatpants that seemed to hang off her hips. Her feet were covered in a pair of fluffy looking socks and he wondered why she'd be so bundled up in the middle of Spring. Nott Manor was perpetually cool, even in the warmer months, that was true, but the large windows in the library let in a disconcerting amount of sunlight and warmed the space to an almost uncomfortable degree at this time of year.