She bites back a smile, head facing forward - gaze deliberately on the paintings. "That's fair, I suppose. In my world, chickens are basically domesticated animals - you'd barely need to actually hunt them..." Not that Hermione tolerates the idea of hunting harpies?

A core memory gets triggered at the thought of harpies. The top of a fortress, four factions fighting off armies of undead and harpies swooping in. A harpy's clawed feet catching Hermione's cloak, flying up and up and up, only a severing spell managing to get her free, and plummeting, plummeting, -

On second thought, maybe not all harpies have rights.

"It does. Makes me want to keep a written record of it," she admits, a bit more chipper. "But methodically. Maybe go at it in categories. Plants and flowers, animals and magical creatures, cultures and historical events."