Hermione woke up slowly, her eyes still closed as she came back to consciousness, and then decided she would rather sleep a little longer. After everything that had happened no one could blame her if she stayed asleep a little longer. With that thought she snuggled deeper into the covers. It was then she realised something was wrong, not just with the covers but with everything. Instead of her soft sheets and fluffy blankets, charmed to always be the perfect temperature, there were stiff white sheets and a somewhat scratchy blanket. It didn't smell like her dormitory in Gryffindor tower either, which smelt of dust and varnish and the decidedly feminine scents of make-up, perfume and hair products. This room smelt of disinfectant, and antiseptic. It was a smell that was the same everywhere, in both the magical and muggle world. It was the smell of a hospital.
She thought back to the night before, trying to figure out how she could have gone to sleep in her dormitory and woken in the hospital wing. She remembered the pain, terror and confusion of the battle. The grief over Fred, Tonks, Remus and so many others, the sheer joy at Harry being alive and defeating Voldemort. She remembered the walk to the headmaster's office, being astonished at Harry's tale. Then the events in the office, and the walk back to Gryffindor tower and going to bed.
None of that explained how she had come to be where she was now. Having failed to find a satisfactory explanation she decided to look for Madame Pomfrey, and discover the reason for her presence in the hospital. With that thought she opened her eyes, and immediately shut them again. The lights in the ceiling were too bright and she couldn't look at them. Wait, lights in the ceiling? Muggle strip lights at that. The hospital wing was lit by charms which made the walls sort of glow, to cast a more even light than the torches which illuminated the rest of Hogwarts. Added to that Hermione became aware of a regular bleeping noise from her left, and a feeling in her arm as if needles were running into it. There was only one thing all this could mean; Hermione was in a muggle hospital. Getting more confused by the second she decided to have another go at opening her eyes, and to sit up and see if she could figure out exactly what was going on. The second attempt to open her eyes ended the same way as the first, and sitting up was equally as disastrous. She had barely placed any weight on her arms when they buckled and she fell back onto the bed.
After two more goes at sitting up she was angry, confused and a little frightened. What was going on? She could barely see or move, she was hooked up to some sort of monitor and had IV lines in her arm. To make matters worse her throat felt as dry as sawdust so she couldn't shout to attract attention. As well as all that she had no recollection of returning to the muggle world, and she was beginning to panic. If there was one thing Hermione hated it was not being in control, and right now she had never felt less in control, the events in Malfoy Manor aside that is.
The sound of a door opening and feet approaching pulled Hermione from her panic. She felt a figure come near, and attempted to reach out to them, trying to speak at the same time. All that happened was a twitch in her arm and a muffled grunt from her mouth, but it had quite an effect. The person gasped, and quickly left the room. Moments later hurried footsteps returned, more than one person this time and then it felt like there were people all around her, checking her pulse and talking to each other.
"Her heart rate is fine."
"Temperature is normal"
"Hermione, if you hear me squeeze my hand." A man's voice said, and she closed her fingers as tightly as she could, which wasn't very tightly at all, but it seemed so important that they knew she was there, even if she had no idea what was happening.
"Good girl," said the same voice, "Now can you open your eyes for me?" She tried to but the lights still hurt and almost as soon as she opened them she shut them tight. Somehow the voice understood. "Do the lights hurt Hermione?" She nodded, knowing she couldn't talk still.
She wasn't sure how long it went on for, the voice asking her to do things and her attempting it, but she grew more and more frustrated as she jumped through their hoops and nobody told her anything.
"Is it true? Is she okay?" A different voice asked, just as she thought she might explode. The voice left her happy, hopeful and confused. The voice was her mother's but Hermione's mum was in Australia and had no memory of her. That memory charm had been strong and was only removable by the caster. Did that mean she had been halfway around the world and returned her parent's memories between the night of the battle and today, whenever today was. All the revelations and confusion became too much for her, and her last thought as she once again lost consciousness was 'what is going on?'