It will be so strange, she thinks as she drags her hair back into a bun, and wets a flannel under hot water. The thought of being in a house filled with noisy, busy, sociable people again seems foreign and unnatural. Hermione has gotten used to the quiet. She scrubs her face with the hot flannel, trying to bring some colour to her cheeks, and then pats her face dry, making faces at herself in the mirror.