Hermione sat at breakfast, once again not touching her food. It wasn't that she was in bad spirits; quite the opposite, actually. She was in a fantastic mood. She'd slept wonderfully once again, and for her, two nights of dreamless sleep were tantamount to heaven. There were other things, of course, that buoyed her mood. Although she was still obsessing over the pieces of her books that Malfoy said he had. It occurred to her for the first time (now that she was refreshed and well-rested) that perhaps he was making it up, that he did not in fact have anything that belonged to her, and was simply enjoying one of his petty torments. She shrugged. Today that didn't even matter.
She wondered where everyone was. She hadn't yet seen Harry or Ron. This was her day to start classes late--something that normally wouldn't make her happier, but today it suited her just fine. It gave her more time to convince herself to eat. And more time to wait and see if her friends had had as good a night's sleep as she had.
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