Hermione Granger woke up with a start. The dream had come back. Her head swam around the dark room. For a minute, she had no idea where she was. All she could feel was cold sweat running down the back of her neck and the drum-like beating of her heart. Finally, she calmed down. "It's only a dream...only a dream," she muttered to herself. She straightened out her covers and fluffed her pillow to try to go back to sleep. It was no use. She was awake.

She looked at the clock and decided that she might as well get a shower and get an early start on the day. She put on her robe and walked into her bathroom. That was one of the nicer perks of being a professor at Hogwarts, she thought. No more having to scurry into the bathroom before the others used up all the hot water. Feeling slightly better, she made her bed and straightened out her room. She hated the thought of the house elves having to tidy up after her like she was a child.

She went to her classroom to finish grading the scrolls that she had assigned two weeks ago. She could tell that her students were rather desperate to get them back after she had told them yesterday that she had not finished grading them and received a collective moan in response. Usually, she liked to grade papers, especially essays. It was always so interesting to see how other minds worked. She could see that some of her students were more adept at explaining spells than actually doing them, but today...She abruptly got up and went to the window. The dream that she had last night was somehow dredging up things that she had safely tucked away in the darkest reaches of her mind. She was thinking about people she had known that were no longer living and felt a wave of melancholy flow over her. She jumped when she heard a sudden burst of laughter and the shuffle of feet, marching to the Great Hall. With a quick look to the hourglass above the door, she hurried out to eat with them.

Breakfast was always fabulous. There was every type of egg preparation that you could think of, including potatoes, sausage, bacon, waffles; it was really unbelievable. Hermione sat beside Professor Flitwick at the Staff table. But she merely played with her eggs and bacon; moving them absent-mindedly around her plate.

Professor Flitwick looked over to her, with concern in his eyes.

"Professor Granger, is there anything troubling you ? Usually you are asking me about the latest in Charms research, but today," he glanced down at her plate, " you seem to be unusually quiet."

Hermione jerked her head up. She had only tuned in at the words "unusually quiet."

"Er, well, you know, I'm just a little preoccupied with all the OWL preparations I have to put together for my students. You know, I haven't even been here a semester, and they seem to have taken me by surprise." She flashed him a smile.

Professor Flitwick smiled sagely at her. "I know, my dear. It's hard to graduate from Witches Teaching School in June, then become a professor in September. It has a tendency to make one put off things that one should be doing now."

Hermione lightly slapped her hands on her legs. "Well, speaking of procrastination, I had better get on over to my classroom and set up the lesson for today. This is the day the second years transform teacups into dormice." She grimaced and quickly left the table.

After Professor Flitwick watched her go, he looked down at her plate. He couldn't help but stare at the plate. All the food had been mashed together and then heaped in a pile in the center.

The day went by fairly quickly. The students were grateful that she had at least returned some of their papers. The transformations were fairly straightforward. The only real disaster was when a second year Hufflepuff somehow managed to transform her teacup into spider, which caused all the girls in the class to shriek in hysteria for two minutes before Hermione could change it back. She was glad that she was never like that. The only person that she knew was scared of spiders was Ron and he was dead. She shuddered involuntarily as tears began to form in her eyes. Ann Marvent, the second year that had caused all fuss, looked at Hermione in disbelief.

"Professor, are you scared of spiders too?"

Hermione caught herself. "No, no, of course not. I think I got some dust in my eyes after all this activity." With that, she dismissed the class five minutes early.

The students quietly filed out the door, most of them looking back to Hermione with looks of worry. Hermione busily shuffled papers and teacups around her desk. Then, when the last of the students had left, she put her head in her hands and cried.

Dinner at the Great Hall was much the same as breakfast. Hermione felt like she was having deja vu all over again. The same smells, the same lack of appetite, the same looks of concern from Professor Flitwick. After about ten minutes of attempting to make polite conversation, Hermione gave up and told Professor Flitwick that she was going to take a walk around the grounds and then call it a night.

The cool night air felt good on her face. As she was walking, she heard a "meow" and looked down. Crookshanks was looking up at her with a curious look on his face. Hermione put her arms on her hips and said in an annoyed voice, "Well, I suppose you're wondering if I'm all right too." Crookshanks merely rubbed his face on her legs. For some reason, she felt better. Hermione petted him for a little while, then suddenly felt very sleepy. She yawned a "Good night" to Crookshanks and started to walk back to the castle.

She was almost to the door of her quarters when she smelled something familiar. Intrigued yet repulsed, she followed it down the hall to the dungeons. Then as she rounded the corner to where it seemed to originate, she felt an invisible wall go up in front of her. Suddenly, she could not move; she could only watch. Ron was there in front of her, screaming, clutching his sides, she could hear an evil laugh, then she knew what the smell was. It was the pungent odor of burning flesh. Hermione was bound to the spot, unable to scream or run away. Then, quickly as it had begun, it stopped and Hermione was face down on the cold and dank dungeon floor.

When she woke up, she was in the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey was rustling around her, taking her temperature and feeling her pulse. Although she tried to get up, Madame Pomfrey promptly pushed her back to bed.

"Now Professor Granger, would you like to have some chocolate?"

Hermione moaned. For God's sake, did this woman think that chocolate cured every little thing?

"No thanks. I think that if I had a good sleep in my own bed I should be fine."At this she tried again to get up. Madame Pomfrey held her down tightly.

"I'm sorry, Professor Granger, but you need to be put under observation for tonight at least. It isn't normal for a young woman to faint dead away in hallways. So lay down."

Hermione knew that it was useless to say anything else, after all, in all the years at Hogwarts, she had never won an argument with Madam Pomfrey.

At that moment, Headmaster Cudmore strode in. He looked around the ward. First to Hermione, then to another patient two beds down from her. Seeing that Hermione was awake, Cudmore conjured a chair at her side and sat down.

He looked at her with serious interest and said in a soft voice," Tell me what happened."

Hermione looked back at him with a blank stare. "What happened where?"

Cudmore smiled slightly. "At the dungeons. What brought you down there?"

Hermione sighed. There was no way she could try to talk her way out of this one, so maybe vagary would work. "Well, after I returned to the castle after my walk, I smelled something, er, unusual. Then I found myself near the Potion master's room and that's when I became overwhelmed from the fumes." She looked at Cudmore calmly.

He studied her carefully. "What kind of smell was it? Urine, pickled toad, mold, generic potions, burned shrimp..." he trailed off, looking at her expectantly.

"It was rotten pickled toad." lied Hermione.

"That is most peculiar. It seems, Professor Granger, that as you were walking back to your room, Professor Snape was conducting an experiment that inadvertently caused his arm to catch on fire, thus creating a rather distinctive odor to come from his lab. Are you sure that there is nothing else you want to tell me about?" Cudmore looked her squarely in the eye.

Hermione shook her head.

He looked at her with a penetrating stare. "Again, why were down in the dungeons, Hermione?"

Hermione answered him with a stony silence. If she told him, she knew he would have a "conference' with her and Snape and she just didn't want to have to go through with it. There were some memories that were best kept to oneself

Cudmore slowly rose from his chair. As he turned to go he said sternly,"I think, Professor Granger, that here are some issues that you need to resolve in your life. As of this moment, you are going on a sabbatical. Don't worry about your Transformation class, I will notify Mrs. Perriwig that she is to substitute for you. You have twenty-four hours to make preparations for some place to stay. In the meantime, get some rest."

Hermione, for one of the few times in her life, was speechless. She silently cursed Cudmore, as he knew that she had no other place to go but Hogwarts. Her parents had sold their house to buy an R.V." to see the rest of Europe" as they jauntily told her. She scanned her mind, trying to come up with someone who would be able to help her. Then she stopped, and realized that there was one person left to whom she could turn: Minerva McGonagall.

That night, Hermione got a quill and parchment from Madame Pomfrey and wrote to Professor McGonagall:

Hello Minerva,

I'm sorry to bother you, but could you possible set me up with some place to stay for the remaining of the school term in Scotland? I remember that you said that your brother has a small house outside of Kilhearne and I was wondering if he would mind letting it out to me. I will explain what is happening when I come out by the 10:35 train tomorrow.

Hermione

She sealed it up and handed it to Madame Pomfrey who promised to send it Priority owl. After lunch, Madame Pomfrey let Hermione get dressed and go back to her room. Once she was there, she had no desire to move. All she wanted to do was to rest, but she knew that Cudmore was serious about her being out of Hogwarts in twenty-four hours, so she forced herself to start packing. She packed all her cold weather clothes and as many books as she could fit into her three suitcases. She had learned that the only way to live was to be as organized as possible. After she did that, she called Crookshanks to her. He came in five minutes, and seemed to understand how stressful this was to her as he did not mind being put into a cat carrier. With a quick glance around her quarters to make sure that she had left nothing behind, she enchanted her three pieces of luggage and Crookshanks' cat carrier in front of her and walked out the door.

The train seemed to float on the rails as she looked out her window. The landscape was wild looking, with great round hills bursting from the luscious green grass. Around some of the higher crags, she could see the clouds embracing their tops. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She could see why Minerva had decided to come back here after she retired as it was so hauntingly beautiful. Crookshanks meowed his displeasure at being cooped up in his carrier. Hermione leaned over to the carrier and said quietly, "Crookshanks, I'm sorry about this, but Muggles aren't too fond of animals roaming around a train, so you'll just have to wait 'til we get to our new house." Crookshanks seemed to accept this excuse for the time being, as he was quiet for the rest of the trip.

Hermione looked around the crowd disembarking from the train. She tried to look over people's heads to catch a glimpse of Minerva, but couldn't see her. Just when she decided to go into the station's waiting room, she heard a slight cough. Startled, Hermione looked around to see Minerva standing near her right side. Minerva stared at her for a moment, then clasped Hermione's hands tightly and looked her straight in the eye. Hermione thought that she was going to say something, but instead she picked up one of Hermione's bags and walked towards the train station's parking lot.

It was tiring to drag Hermione's luggage to Minerva's car. Hermione forgot how useful magic was in lifting heavy objects, so she had packed more books than she could have carried normally.

When the last bit of luggage had been swung into the car, and Crookshanks was carefully placed in the rear seat, Minerva turned to Hermione and said,"Why don't we get a bite to eat? Then we can stay at my place for the night before we head out to my brothers tomorrow." Hermione nodded. She could use some decent food. They stopped into the local pub which was noisy and smelled of beer and chicken. After they placed their order, they sat down at a rather sticky table.

Minerva looked directly at Hermione and asked," So what really happened?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Honestly, Minerva, nothing happened. I just got a little lightheaded and fainted. Did Cudmore owl you already?"

Minerva gave her a fixed stare. "Yes, he did. The entire staff is worried about you. You are having night terrors, you have no appetite, and you faint when you smell burning flesh. Now, tell me why we should not be worried."

Hermione was unnerved. "Oh, I see. The whole staff is worried about me, huh? Snape too? So everyone is spying on me...Well, tell them to mind their own damn business. I can handle this myself!" She glared at Minerva.

Minerva said nothing as the server brought out their chicken with a side of watery-looking vegetables. Hermione began to cut up her chicken furiously then stopped and looked at it and declared,"I'm not hungry."

Minerva continued to eat in silence. Finally, after she was done, she left some money on the table and said quietly, "Let's go."

The short ride to Minerva's house was tense. Hermione felt horrible at having shouted at her like she did, but on the other hand she was angry at Minerva for thinking that she was this delicate little thing that needed to be treated with kid gloves. What incensed her the most was the idea that people were spying on her. Fortunately, Minerva's house was outside town, with no Muggles about, so Hermione could enchant her luggage up the stairs to her bedroom. The house was really quite lovely. It was made from ancient stone with a practical metal roof. It looked small from the outside, but like most wizard houses, appearances were deceiving. It had a small root cellar, a surprisingly modern kitchen, a cozy parlor with a fire place and a modest dining room. There were only two bedrooms upstairs; one for Minerva and one guest, but each bedroom had it own bathroom, both of which were quite luxurious.

Hermione levitated her luggage to her room and let Crookshanks out to explore. She conjured some food and water for him which he began to eat hungrily. Looking around her nicely decorated room, Hermione suddenly felt claustrophobic. She had to get out. She had to get out now.

With a quick goodbye, Hermione strode out the front door. Minerva looked around and began to say something, but by the time she did, all she heard was the gentle click of the shutting door.

The damp air had the effect of reviving Hermione out of her panic. She inhaled deeply as she walked along the single lane road. Dusk was beginning to settle in. She could smell the dying breath of flowers as she strode down the road. She could hear the odd rustle in the long grasses beside her and the quick flap of birds going above her. She looked up and thought, "Well, at least they have a home to go to." The thought startled her, so she pushed herself to go faster. Soon she was running. The faster she ran, the less she thought. But then she started to feel very hot, so she began to throw off her hat, then her gloves, then she undid her scarf, finally she was running in just her blouse and slacks. She was breathing so hard, she didn't notice the car behind her. Then, tired and panting, she suddenly realized that she was not alone. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end. She bent over, looking like she was catching her breath, when she was really slowly pulling up her pant leg and getting her wand out of its holster. As she was doing that, the car stopped behind her and the driver put the engine in park. She could hear the door open and the sound of feet hitting the pavement. The feet stopped a few feet away from her. Taking her cue, she quickly turned around to confront the driver of the car with her wand in her hand. She staggered back, letting her wand drop to the ground. "Ron?" she whispered.