She's not hyperventilating over a near-deadly experience with a spirit, thank you. Her breath might be a little shallow, but she's at least breathing! Calming down.

His attention is not shaken off, Hermione is not that kind of independent woman. She can accept the help - could even appreciate it, if he caught her before she smacked her head on an ancient elven rock, hypothetically - but the held ends up not being needed.

The back of her knees are a little sweaty right now, but that's just the humidity here.

"Oh yes, plenty," she admits, "I wandered through another world plagued by them for a few years. Vengeful spirits, shifting spirits, guilt-ridden ones."

A shrug, as she finally starts walking again towards the mirror. "And the school I went to, back home, had an abundance of nosy, cheeky ghosts."