Hermione awoke, hours later in a sequestered corner of the hospital wing. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Dumbledore, his fingers pressed together and his eyes closed sitting beside her. She closed her eyes again, hoping she could disappear. Her eyes filled with tears of shame and hatred for what had happened to her as memories flooded through her brain. She felt physically healed…But her heart ached and felt as heavy as her arms and legs had under Draco's curse.

Suddenly it occurred to her that Draco had been stunned and he might be in the hospital wing with her somewhere. Her body stiffened and she raised herself in her bed her eyes searching wildly around the deserted room.

"He's not here." Dumbledore's voice said softly beside her. His cool palm pressed against her own panic stricken hand that gripped the edge of the bed.

Her muscles slowly un-tensed and she eased back onto her pillows and stared up to the ceiling. Tears burned in her eyes and trickled down her temples into her hair. Her chest shook in sobs.

"Why me?" She finally whispered hoarsely through her tears.

There was a pause, where she heard Dumbledore gathering a sigh.

"Hermione...There is no answer for why things such as this happen. They merely do occur because…The world at times is an evil place…Full of jealousies, vices and cruelty beyond all measure. Evil extends far beyond the reaches of magic. We in the magic world have evil wizards like Voldemort in our midst Hermione…but far more evil than those…Are the wizards who condemn these evils…and commit their own."

Hermione shuddered and wiped her eyes roughly.

"What we must not forget, is that the world has its good, too. Truth, and beauty and hope and joy."

There was a long pause where Hermione breathed deeply and her wracking sobs slowed to slight hiccoughs, and then at last she lay still.

"And love?" She breathed at last.

"Especially love." He replied.

Hermione returned to classes after the Christmas holiday had ended, but Draco did not. He had been whisked away from the school by his father who assured the school that disciplinary action would be taken. Dumbledore made it clear Draco was not welcome within the halls of Hogwarts again and that his actions had merited expulsion and possible trial before the Ministry of Magic. However, Lucius Malfoy, especially at this point, hardly felt it necessary or prudent to fraternize with Dumbledore or anyone else in the Ministry for that matter.

Hermione wasn't sure how to feel. While on one hand she wished he'd been punished, on the other she was just glad she'd never have to see his face again in Hogwarts.

Ron and Harry stayed close to her in the next weeks, and their protection and understanding was a strong and silent comfort. She didn't want to talk about it, so they didn't press her. Hermione, though still holding strong and deep feelings for Ron…didn't think she could bear any physical contact at that point other than strong hugs or friendly arms on her shoulders. And it was silently understood, along with so many other things.

She moved back into her old dormitory. The tower chamber felt so barren and silent…And stirred up too many memories. There weren't any words spoken. Her chest was packed and moved back one day during her classes, and she was happy in her old four-poster with the other girls safely sleeping around her.

She ignored the whispers that followed her in corridors, and eventually they dissipated altogether. The days grew longer as her N.E.W.T.s drew nearer. She found herself at times so completely wrapped in her studies that she'd forget the pain. So close to her friends she could laugh again. Time heals all wounds, is the old saying. And Hermione would have never believed its truth mere months ago. But now her wounds turned into scars. The memories were still fresh and could be recalled in an instant…But the pain began to slowly subside, and her lingering fear diminished.

She would have long talks with Harry, after Ron had gone to bed. They understood the feeling of absolute despair and hurt. He poured out to her some things he'd never told, even to Ron, about his feelings after Sirius's death. And Hermione, though more reluctant, her scars still fresh, would share about the clinging pain and vulnerability she felt.

"All magic aside," She whispered to him one night, tears brimming in her eyes as they both sat by the dying fire. "His strength…his rage…Was so terrifying. And I felt so…

So…"

"Helpless." Harry completed the sentence for her, his eyes shining knowingly. Tears trickled down her face as he went on.

"When I stood there…I swear…I could have had all the power in the world…And I still would have been frozen in that instant…When he fell..." Harry's voice faltered, and his eyes overflowed as well and he pressed his forehead to his fist.

They both wept in silence.

After a time they stood, and with an embrace, parted ways and went to their beds.