Hermione sat quietly in the shade of a tree, resting against it's enormous trunk while participating in one of her favorite activities: a bit of light reading. The breeze occasionally rustled the leaves and brought the sweet smell of summer dancing across her nostrils. She had been sitting in the same spot for almost three hours. For most of that time, Hermione continued to read the same line over and over again while her mind wandered to places and memories that she could not control.

It had been a few weeks since the incident: the one incident she didn't want to think about but couldn't keep her mind away from.

Hermione's heart began to quicken it's pace just thinking about it. It was horrifying, disgusting, degrading, and… exhilarating. Her own reaction to her recent experience caused a big of fright to rise up, but she continually reassured herself that her reaction was "just a part of human nature" and she "couldn't help herself". She shouldn't worry about it, because "it was nothing". She was more concerned with how she felt about the situation than whether she would have to go through anything like it again.

It hadn't been too bad at first. The Burrow kept her busy when she arrived, whether it was Ginny and sometimes Mrs. Weasley groaning over Fleur's stay, playing Quidditch with Harry, Ron, and Ginny in the Orchard or eagerly expecting their O.W.L.s (on which she had received ten 'Outstandings' and an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Defense Against the Dark Arts). But now the buzz of the Burrow had wound down and instead of listening to Ron's insane ramblings, she much preferred the quiet and serenity of being outdoors by herself, with a book.

She had much to think about still, even with all the activities over. Harry had told both Hermione and Ron about the Prophecy and the lessons he would be having that year with Dumbledore, but no matter what she would steer her mind towards, she would find herself thinking about the same thing. She couldn't bring herself to tell anyone about what happened. Who would actually believe her? In these dangerous times, who exactly would believe that the Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange took Hermione into a dark room, had her way with her and then let her go? And even if Harry and Ron did believe her, could Harry ever forgive Hermione for not trying her best to avenge the death of his godfather? It would be much better if she just kept quiet, but how long would this memory haunt her and how long would it be until she was brought to her breaking point?

So many questions, so many things to think about from her encounters with Bellatrix. It haunted every single aspect of her life, even in her dreams she could not escape from her. She was forced to relive that experience in the dark basement. Bellatrix's grip on her arms... her red fingernails digging into her skin... her hot breath on her ear... her soft lips pressing up against her own... her smooth tongue sliding into her mouth...

The frizzy haired witch had begun to stare deeply into the book while these things ran through her mind, but she was soon interrupted from all of this and quite thankful for it.

"Wotcher, Hermione." It was the Auror Nymphadora Tonks – she had taken a liking to coming around lately. Her appearance was different from her light, bubbly, pink-haired self. She seemed a bit depressed lately and her mousy brown hair reflected that. Hermione had also gained knowledge that she had recently found trouble with her Metamorphosing.

Hermione looked up and managed a forced smile. "Hey Tonks."

The Auror took liberty to slide down the big tree trunk and sit on the ground next to Hermione. She brought her knees to her chest and sat there for a minute looking up at the darkening sky. A sigh escaped her lips and she started speaking.

"Is there something wrong?" Tonks asked, glancing sideways at Hermione for a moment. " I just stopped by to wish Harry a Happy Birthday, there's a nice celebration going on in there," she added.

Hermione closed the book and set it down on her lap, resting her hands against the book's cool surface. She found it rather strange that Tonks cared, and even noticed, that Hermione hadn't been acting herself for the past few weeks. But Tonks was a strange creature, and it was rather endearing in a sense. "Why would you think that?" Hermione blandly answered, hoping to avoid questioning altogether.

Tonks gave a chuckle. "Well, it's no secret that you're quite the bookwor – er … scholar, Hermione. You've been reading the same book, let alone the same page, for quite some time. Even Mrs. Weasley has noticed it," she replied, making eye contact with Hermione to which Hermione failed to return.

"Oh, it's nothing," Hermione reassured her. "I'm quite alright. Just a bit tired, I suppose. And of course, with everything going on, I've found it difficult to keep my mind focused on much." Thinking on her feet, or rather, improvising. She was surprised and rather proud of the answer she had thought up on the spot. Very believable.

"You mustn't spend too much time worrying about those things," Tonks replied, slightly nudging Hermione's shoulder with her own. "Dumbledore is on task and Hogwarts has top security this year to ensure that nothing goes wrong." She stood up and for the first time Hermione managed to look at the young Auror. She looked extremely worn out and her eyes were a bit red. Sympathy for the woman that stood before her suddenly rose in Hermione and a genuine smile appeared on her face for the first time in what felt like forever. Tonks held out her hand and Hermione grasped it and was pulled up onto her feet. "Hogwarts must be in good hands with an Auror like me assigned to monitor the grounds, eh?" she added with a smile.

The two of them started heading back to the Weasley household. Through the windows they could hear the merriment that was happening in the kitchen.

"You know, since we're on the subject, all of us couldn't help but notice that you haven't been acting exactly like yourself lately either," Hermione began. It was nice of Tonks to extend some kindness and inquire about her and felt that she should do the same. Hermione knew that Mrs. Weasley had been attempting to comfort Tonks about whatever had been bothering her for the past few weeks, but she knew that although she had the best intentions... Mrs. Weasley could be a bit... prying.

"Oh, it's nothing," Tonks replied after a few moments of awkward silence. "Just a silly something that I've been spending entirely too much time thinking about..."

"I know how that is," Hermione replied gravely, clutching her book to her chest. The two of them seemed to have something in common.

Just then someone appeared with a pop! a few feet away from the Weasley household. Hermione could easily identify the worn out Lupin from their distance. As soon as he appeared she thought she heard a gasp coming from the woman beside her. Suddenly Tonks stepped in front of Hermione, facing her and laughing nervously. She rested her hands on Hermione's shoulders and looked into her eyes with her own watery globes. "I'm sorry for the sudden rush but I must be going now. It was quite lovely chatting with you, Hermione and I hope to see more of you throughout the year at Hogwarts. Remember if you need anything, I'm never too far." She ended her speech with a smile and a wink, which caused a tear to come streaming down her face.

The Auror turned around with much speed, almost tripping over her own two feet, before taking a few steps and vanishing.

Hermione stood there in the dimming sunlight, clutching the book to her chest, confused quite a bit. But she had no time to linger on that. It was her best friend's birthday and she had to stop thinking about herself and what she had experienced – at least for one night – and go in and join the festivities.

The young witch took a deep breath, spread a smile on her face, and continued walking toward the Burrow, the alluring sounds of laughter and Mrs. Weasley's homemade birthday cake teasing her senses as she walked through the door.