With a resigned, stiff movement, Harry sat upright. Slowly, reluctantly, he hooked his fingers into his hood, drew it back and Hermione got her first look at Harry in five years. Two-thirds of his face was covered in a blue scarf that went down around his skull and crossed above what was left of his nose. She caught sight of his one remaining eye. It had lost its vibrancy. It was cold, callous even. That's what struck her first. It was a dull green, a pale viridian. Not the sparkling emerald she was so used to.