Like today, for example: Blaise was sitting on the terrace off the kitchen, cloaked in warming spells, as he watched Hermione in the near-distance. She was sitting at a small iron and wood table next to a picturesque little pond (currently frozen over), wrapped in so many blankets her physical features were rendered unrecognizable. At this distance, Blaise could see her gloved hands, wrapped around a Thermos he knew was full of the milky tea she preferred (he knew because he had made it and left it on the kitchen island for her to find) and her booted feet, planted on the frosty ground. Nothing else, though. He knew she was looking out at the pond, knew that her face would be completely blank, her eyes empty. If he hadn't known any better, he would say that she was Occluding. But he did know better. They all did. She couldn't Occlude. But it was becoming more and more common for her to shut down completely, to not engage in conversation or respond to any of them when they spoke to her. He suspected she wasn't eating as often as she needed to be, though Daisy refused to discuss her with him, or even with Theo. They had all (save for Pansy) tried to talk to her in their various ways, tried to get her to open up and talk about what she was feeling, what she was experiencing. She never got irritated or irate (no, Blaise thought sourly, that would require some emotion to break through), but she would stand and walk away or stare blankly until whoever was speaking to her would give up and leave her be.