"Ugh..."
Hermione groaned and slowly opened her eyes. Everything was blurred with sleep and she had to blink a few times to clear it out but when she could see clearly again... she didn't know where she was.
The ceiling was unfamiliar.
'Can't be at Hogwarts...' she thought sarcastically. 'My favorite crack in the ceiling isn't there...'
She sat up and winced, her hand grasping her forearms. Thick cloth met her fingers and she looked down. Her whole arm was almost entirely covered with white gauze and thick bandages.
She whimpered as she felt the sharp throbbing. Looking aroung, she tried to figure out where she was and possibly find something to make the pain go away.
The room was dark and didn't have any windows. Spartan, it didn't contain much furniture but what was there was simple and elegant.
'Whoever owns this room has taste...'
Bookshelves took up much of the space, lining the walls as they were.
Her eyebrow rose at the floor to ceiling shelves overflowing with books. 'And a book addict too...'
A mahogany desk stood in a corner, sleek-lined and strong. A simple wooden chair with a small cushion softening the hard seat was tucked into the space under the desk, some clothes hung casually over it.
Sniffing the air, she found that they belonged to a man as they carried a hint of sandalwood and forest with a speck of dog tossed in. 'Thank Circe for these senses...'
Recognizing the faint scent, she emerged from beneath her cocoon of covers and swung her feet to the floor. Bare carpet met her bare feet as Hermione tried to stand up properly. She wanted to get out of the room and find the owner of that familiar scent. 'Unless he finds me first, that is...'
Managing to get to the door on shaky feet, she reached out to touch the doorknob's cool surface as a thought occurred to her.
'Do you really want to face him in THAT?!'
Okay... granted, it probably WASN'T the greatest idea to hunt for a man who used to be your professor wearing only your underwear but... what else was there to wear?
Biting her lip, Hermione turned around and her eyes lit on the shirt thrown over the chair. Maybe? No. It wasn't right to just take some else's things when they weren't there to lend it to you.
'But... I'm sure he won't mind if I borrowed it...' she thought, chewing on her lip. 'It's not like I'd have anything to wear otherwise...'
Nodding her head, she came to a decision.
The cotton felt cool to her heated skin as she slid it over her bare flesh, being careful not to jar her arm any more than she absolutely had to. It was murder when she accidentally snagged it on the sleeve!