Thanks to Because-I-Got-High, Alaksandra (my muse will never escape!), CathRakka, and cecelle for their reviews! And to all of you who have been anxiously waiting for Hermione to speak: I hope you're happy with this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. I'm not claiming to own it. No profit is being made and no profit ever will.

I was embarrassed as I sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place in my pajamas. It was disconcerting as Order members stared at me. Some standing towards the outer edges of the room murmured to each other. Snape and Moody glared at me. Tonks was speaking to Mrs. Weasley through the fireplace. Harry and Ron wanted to come see me, but I didn't want to see them.

I learned that they had been the ones to realize I was missing. Apparently, they tried to send me my Christmas presents but the owls came back confused. Through a bit of investigation by Mr. Weasley, who actually went to my house to see if I was there, they learned I wasn't and confused my parents to no end.

Everyone wanted to know why.

I wanted to know why they couldn't just let it be.

They asked me why a lot. I didn't answer. They asked me what gave me the idea. I told them I just thought it up. They asked if I knew who lived in the house. I told them my aunt. They asked if I had met a Death Eater recently. I told them no, while thinking of Draco Malfoy. They asked why I left again. I didn't answer again.

It was a seemingly endless cycle. They finally let me go up to bed when it was long after midnight.

I lay in bed for the longest time just staring at the wall. I was nervous and wanted to throw up. I was cold, but the blanket didn't help any. I wanted to sleep but couldn't even close my eyes. I was a helpless teenage witch who didn't know what she should do or what she wanted to do. I didn't like it.

I got fed up with just being there, in that room, in that bed. I put on a pair of socks and silently made my way into the kitchen. I looked at the chair I had sat in while they interrogated me, and then glanced away.

I got myself a glass of water, wishing it was tea, and sat down in a different chair. I took a sip of the water, and then stared at it. The moonlight drifting in through the window over the sink hit the glass and faint patterns of light could be seen on the tabletop. I stared at them, and then put my hand around the glass, making them vanish.

"Granger. How surprising."

Hello, Professor Snape, I said in my mind.

"Go back to bed," he ordered. I didn't move to get up. I took a sip of my water then set the glass on the table again. I didn't take my hand off it and stared into the water again.

I heard his faint sigh. He was tired. I could almost feel it.

"My brother died over the summer," I told him on a whim, not even knowing why and not entirely wanting to. It was just an urge. An urge to get it off my chest and to speak to someone who wouldn't pity me.

"I wasn't aware you had a brother," Snape said.

"I did. He'd be seven by now, but at the time, he was only six. He had sepsis. It started as strep throat. The strep throat wasn't treated because there were no signs that Nick had it. Then out of the blue, he gets a really high fever and the shakes and started getting delirious, so we took him to the hospital. The doctors tried to save him, but he didn't respond to the antibiotics. He died after a week or so. He was so pale and weak and skinny...it's not right that a child so young should have to suffer so much. He didn't even know what was happening to him."

"And is this the reason why you decided to run away from home?" Snape asked. It sounded like he was insulting me.

"No," I said. "Not the only one, really. It was depressing, and I suppose a psychocologist would tell me I was traumatized by it. But there's more. Nick was the illegitimate son of my mother. She had an affair. I didn't know until over the summer. I heard Mum and Dad fighting. She was mad at him because he wouldn't sit with Nick while he was obviously dying. He told her it was because it wasn't even his son. Mum said she had the affair because I wasn't around anymore. They both blame me for it, and for Nick dying." I laughed mirthlessly. "After all, he wouldn't have been around to die if I had never gone off to Hogwarts, right?"

"You don't believe that, do you?"

"No. I know it's not my fault, intellectually. Emotions are a pain, though. No logic to them whatsoever."

Snape obviously decided to ignore that comment. "Do your friends know about this?" He said the word friends as if it left a particularly nasty taste in his mouth. He said 'this' with nearly as much venom. I wondered briefly if it bothered him that I was talking to him, of all people, about it, but decided I didn't care.

"No. They don't. You're the only person who does. I don't even think my parents realize I know a lot of what's happened." I looked away from him and at a spot on the wall.

"I suppose Harry is going to tell me he's sorry for being a jerk to me when I see him again," I said quietly after a few minutes of silence.

"Is that a bad thing?" Snape asked.

"He won't even feel guilty for more than a few minutes after he knows for sure that I'm all right."

"But you're not all right," Snape observed.

I shook my head. "No. But no one needs to know that."

And with that, I finally let to go of my glass and left the kitchen. The distorted light through the glass of water shone on the table. I imagined Snape stared at it for a moment, lost in thought, and then left as well.

A/N: Hope you liked it. Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome.