Hermione was escorted back to the Atrium by an Unspeakable, wearing the Unspeakable robes that prevented identification. She was shaking, and she couldn't look up at Dumbledore or her friends as they approached them.
"Miss Granger!" Dumbledore's voice was a mixture of worried and relieved. "Good to see you again."
"What happened?" Harry demanded. "You were right with us one moment, and then you were gone!"
"The Department of Mysteries was conducting an experiment," the Unspeakable said. Their voice was altered, utterly void of identifying characteristics or timbre. "She unfortunately fell victim to it. She has been warned never to speak about what she saw, but she should be fine in a day or two."
"Merlin and Morgana," Susan breathed. She went to Hermione, taking her hands. "Hermione? Are you okay?"
Hermione couldn't look up at her friend. She nodded silently, and Susan exhaled, not letting go of her hands.
"Alright. Fine. Let's go." Susan's voice was determined. "Let's get her out of here."
The trip back through the Floo was a green whirl, and Hermione barely remembered the trip back to the Slytherin dungeons. Susan had escorted her most of the way, maybe. She only remembered returning to her room, stripping off her Wizengamot robes, and collapsing on her bed, staring at the ceiling vacantly.
The Elixir of Life. The pinnacle of alchemical achievement.
And she had to figure out how to make it in ten weeks.
To be fair, she would be starting with a considerable head start, already being in possession of the Philosopher's Stone. She had no idea how to use the stone, though. She had none of the alchemical understanding of it necessary for creating it in the first place, which would have undoubtedly helped her know how to use it as well.
The only one she really knew of who knew alchemy was Dumbledore. And she couldn't go to him for help with being blackmailed.
Hermione wasn't sure how long she stared up at the canopy of her bed, her mind racing, but she was jerked from her thoughts by Millie entering the dorm room. Millie glanced at Hermione, before coming over and sitting down next to her on the bed.
It took a moment for Hermione to pull herself out of her thoughts and self-despair to really look at her friend. Millie was pale, but she waited until she was sure she had Hermione's full attention.
"Madame Pomfrey says she thinks she's repaired the damage," Millie said quietly. "At least, all of it she thinks she can."
Hermione exhaled. "Are you going to be okay?"
Millie winced.
"Mostly?" she ventured. "I mean, I've damaged my—err—my birth canal, and Madame Pomfrey warned me that it probably won't self-lubricate like it's supposed to anymore. But if I don't want it to lubricate because I don't want to be sticking anything in it, it's probably not much of a problem?"
She winced again, and Hermione bit her lip.
"There are things you can use if you change your mind," Hermione said uneasily. "To help—err, things—not have friction burn…"
But Millie was already vehemently shaking her head. "Nope. Eww. Gross. No."
"We're still very young," Hermione protested. "None of us have even tried—"
"Not interested," Millie cut in. "Hermione, I see you and Tracey and the others flirting and getting shy and having crushes on everyone. But I just don't. It's just not me."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "Millie, if it's a situation of you just haven't—"
"It's not because I haven't 'met the right person'," Millie said firmly. "I just don't have that drive. To fall in love, to have sex, none of it. It's not in my makeup."
"So when you were born, that switch just never got flipped?" Hermione asked. Millie looked confused, and Hermione amended, "So it's like when you were born, that particular torch just never got lit?"
Millie considered.
"It's like there wasn't a torch in the first place," she said. "No torch, no sconce on the wall. I'm not missing a lit torch – the torch was just never there, and there was never one there in the design to start."
Hermione felt a moment of deep sadness for a moment, as she regarded Millie. To never have a crush, to never fall in love… she felt bad that her friend would never experience such things. She couldn't really imagine not wanting to fall in love someday. But Millie seemed to have no interest whatsoever.
And if she wasn't made for such things… well, enduring them would probably be miserable, she guessed.
"Well, you know you the best," Hermione said finally. "So. What's the next step?"
Millie relaxed, relief shining out through her face at being believed, and Hermione felt guilty for questioning her in the first place. She'd just been trying to look out for her friend – she hadn't meant to make her feel defensive.
"Madame Pomfrey says she'll take it out for me, if that's what I really want," Millie said. "She asked what I wanted to do with it. She recommended keeping it in a jar in case I wanted it back someday, but I kind of thought throwing it onto a fire would be very cathartic."
Hermione cracked a smile.
"From the cramps mine gives me sometimes? I completely understand," she said. She smiled at Millie. "As cathartic as it might be, though, you might consider keeping it. It could be worth a lot of money, you know."
"My womb?" Millie made a face. "As what, a potion ingredient?"
"I mean, maybe?" Hermione said. "I was thinking as a ritual ingredient, to be honest. This last fertility ritual my coven did, we used basilisk ovaries, but I only had the two. If people want to do fertility rituals, a willingly-donated womb would probably fetch a fair price."
Millie snorted.
"And what, put an advert in the Prophet?" she said cynically. "'One partially-used, lightly-damaged womb for sale'?"
Hermione managed to keep a straight face. "It could work."
Millie looked at her incredulously, before they both cracked up into laughter.
"Merlin, I'd end up with hags owling me, wanting to eat my reproductive parts," Millie said, laughing.
"You could host an auction at the Hog's Head," Hermione suggested, giggling. "See how much the hags think it's worth."
They looked at each other and burst into laughter again, their giggles taking a while to subside.
"Madame Pomfrey says it might hurt," Millie admitted, after a while. She looked sideways at Hermione. "She said it'd be dangerous to put me to sleep for it."
"It probably won't hurt more than douching with a liquid fire potion," Hermione said dryly, and Millie cracked a grin with a wince.
"Probably," she said. She looked at Hermione, hesitating. "Still. Will you come?"
Hermione understood in a flash. She took Millie's hand, squeezing it.
"Of course," she told her, heartfelt. "Do you want Tracey to be there too?"
Millie blinked. "Tracey?"
"I could hold one hand, while Tracey holds the other," Hermione said. "We could both support you while Madame Pomfrey does whatever needs to be done."
Millie looked like she hadn't considered the possibility of telling Tracey before.
"I—yeah, alright," she said, after a moment. "I'll need to tell her, though. And then schedule it with Madame Pomfrey."
"Do you want my help in telling her?" Hermione offered.
"No, I think—I think I can do it," Millie said, thinking. "Tracey—she was really good. Kind. Over Easter. She didn't ask too many questions, but she—"
She broke off, thinking to herself, and Hermione didn't push.
"I'll tell Tracey," Millie said, nodding assertively. "Then – a Friday evening, maybe? So I have the weekend to recover, if it hurts very bad?"
"Sounds like a plan," Hermione said, smiling. On an impulse, she hugged Millie tightly for a moment, Millie rolling her eyes but tolerating it with indulgent humor.
"You're my friend, you know?" Hermione told Millie. "I know you don't like opening up about your problems, but you know I'd burn down the world for you, right?"
Millie snorted.
"That's exactly why I don't tell you about my problems, Granger," she said dryly, but she smirked and gave Hermione a half-hug back.