Hermione sought solace in the tranquility and the intoxicating scent of old books. A smell of vanilla, and a musky fragrance wafted through air. It was not odd to find her in an area littered with books. In a corner would one see her with her head tucked into pages, almost *so* close that she could inhale the traces of ink upon parchment. Only times she'd raise her head is to knit her brows at any noise. "If you don't quiet down, I'm going to tell Madam Pince." Her officious voice warned.