Who does she see?

Luna - but the sight is astounding.

Luna Lovegood lay on Hermione's bed, completely naked, her pale skin glowing almost ethically in the dim light and her discarded bra hanging from the bedframe.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as her eyes widened, her gaze involuntarily drawn to Luna's serene form. The bead of sweat on her forehead trickled down her temple, and she could feel the fabric of her panties weakening, the moths' relentless **** making her acutely aware of her own precarious state. Her cheeks flushed deeply as she stood frozen, unsure whether to avert her eyes or seek the safety of her trunk. Luna, seemingly oblivious to Hermione's presence, continued to lie still, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside Hermione.

Hermione's voice trembled as she called out, "Luna, I need your help!" Her bra straps had slipped to her elbows, and she clutched the cups to her chest, trying to maintain what little modesty she had left. Her remaining shoe was on the verge of falling apart, her foot almost free as the fabric tore further with each step. She hobbled towards Luna's bed, her face burning with embarrassment. The moths swirled around her, their relentless hum a reminder of her desperation. She reached Luna's bedside, her breath coming in short gasps. "Please, Luna, my clothes... they're being eaten."