A hand reaches up over Hermione's head from the side of her, hovering before the row of spines and waiting to be directed to the correct tomb. Its owner: a broad-shouldered woman, her dark blonde hair drawn back from her face into a tight, practical french-braid that dangles into empty space off her shoulder. She seems put out, one eyebrow arched as she glances down.

The magic may not have retrieved the book, but it did summon a tall librarian's assistant.

"It's Abby, actually." Not Accio. "Don't kick the shelves. Which one do you want?"