Harry was hungry - this was not unusual. Neither was his current plan to sneak into the kitchen and sweet talk a female house elf into procuring some treats of the sugary variety for him.
He made his way down the stairs and was passing behind the couch nearest the fire, when a curly head caught his eye. Unless Hermione had discovered a miracle potion for her own hair, that had to belong to someone else he knew. Someone not in her own robes.
He briefly thought about Mandy being in HIS robes and smiled.
He leaned over the back of the couch and gently tugged aside a curl or two to whisper in her ear, "I think you're in the wrong tower, milady."