In a way..

Luna's silver eyes fluttered open, and she regarded Hermione with that characteristic dreamy calm, as if finding a half-dressed, moth-eaten classmate at her bedside was the most natural occurrence in the world. "Oh, the Flutterby Moths," she said, her voice soft and melodic, as though discussing a minor inconvenience. "They've been nesting in the curtains. They're particularly fond of Muggle fabrics, you know. They think the synthetic blends taste like treacle." She sat up slowly, her bare skin catching the candlelight, and reached out to touch Hermione's tattered sleeve with a feather-light finger. "Don't worry, they'll move on once they've had their fill. But you might want to borrow something of mine before you're left in just your knickers." She gestured vaguely toward her trunk, which was overflowing with an eclectic mix of robes and odd accessories, while the moths continued their relentless feast, now circling Hermione's head like a tiny, hungry storm.

Hermione couldn’t help herself in not looking at Luna’s naked ass as she stood up.