By mid-afternoon, Hermione was starting to wonder how her husband survived teaching at Hogwarts at all. Her head ached abominably all through Muggle Studies and Arithmancy, despite Muggle Studies being one of her easier classes. Not stabbing pains like Professor Snape had said warned of danger, but a low-level thrum of angry noise which had her wishing she could crawl into bed for a long nap. The time between classes was much worse - she hadn't had any classes with the Slytherins, thank goodness, but passing Draco and Goyle in the hallway had been torture.
"I hear you've found a way to ensure a good grade in potions, Granger!" Draco had announced in a loud voice just as they passed a group of second-years. "You planning to sleep your way through your N.E.W.T.s?" She had looked up, startled out of her private thoughts, and caught his gaze - and the fireworks exploded inside her head. She had needed to go hide in the bathroom for a few minutes to let the ache subside before she could continue to class.
Hermione knew she was being horribly rude, but she raced through her supper without more than a dozen words to Harry and Ron. She did notice their strategic maneuver - by skillfully switching seats with Ginny Weasley at the last possible moment, they ensured Hermione could sit at the very end of the Gryffindor table without having to speak to anyone else. Ron had the stricken, panicked look he often wore when they were facing imminent danger, but this time Hermione felt no need to explain. Whatever else might happen, the higglewumps were really Professor Snape's problem. It wouldn't be fair to him to drag Ron and Harry in on the search.
And part of her had to admit she was enjoying the chance to work on her own, for once. Not that she was really facing higglewumps alone - that would have been terrifying - but this played to her strengths. Professor Snape seemed to accept that she was an intelligent young woman instead of thinking of her as a bossy know-it-all. The acknowledgement of her intellect as a strength instead of an annoyance was . . . very welcome.
The moment she was done eating, Hermione excused herself with an apologetic smile to Ron and Harry and practically ran for Professor Snape's quarters. She had no trouble finding the corridor this time, and the door let her in just like it was supposed to. Her husband was still at supper, but that was fine - Hermione was only interested in hiding in bed and making the headache go away for a while. She peeled off her robe and slid under the covers in just her underdress. And she was even more tired than she thought, because she fell asleep in minutes.