When Gryffindors headed back from next lesson, their ears almost literally bleeding from the singing of the Cheering Crops (Madam Sprout would not allow any more Mood Charms used on them, as their celebrations were a transient stage, creating a sense of community among them), Hermione got called into the infirmary again, where Madam Pomfrey gave her the dull and disgusting task to clean sheets and bandages. Hermione knew the laundering charm to work perfectly on blood and probably most other bodily fluids, but when she heard the nurse tend Ginny without arms – in a stage of blurred consciousness by now -, she figured her next assignment to give the nurse a hand in application of the bandages, and she was not ready for that. Turning and plucking the cloth by hand seemed to be a less excruciating task, even if it was as much a bloody business as she expected. Looking into the crimson red bowl pushed her to try conjuring a pair of simple muggle rubber gloves, they ripped apart halfway through the process. Suppressing her urge to vomit when she pulled them off again, she did not try to summon some from anywhere in the castle – her futile attempt felt like an adequate redemption from magic itself. If she did not get the lesson by explanation, she would just have to feel it. Her body revolted against the treatment, but Hermione ignored the strange growl somewhere in her abdomen, as a decent meal would have ruined her work and hampered her screwing in the fresh cloth with all her muscles might. When she had hanged the sheets and bandages neatly, the nurse excused her for Astronomy lesson.
She joined Harry and Ron their way up the stairs, who had not quite abandoned the idea of sneaking into the infirmary.
"... tell you, if it were just us, the Cloak's still long enough", Ron whispered to Harry, but Hermione, weak and tired and still feeling sick from the smell of Ginny's blood, lost it with them.
"Why, Ronald, do you so dearly wish to witness your own sisters suffering?", she rushed on him.
"I don't want to see her -", he began, but Harry took the conversation into his own hands before it could escalate into an argument at full-scale.
"I've seen his dad get hurt by that snake, remember? And when Dumbledore send us to London, we still had no idea of the extend of his injuries, or whether he'd make it at all", he tried to calm her down. "So it's – understandable that we need to get a clear picture of what's actually happened, isn't it?"
"Yes, but -"
"Come on, Hermione, it's not the first time we've used the Cloak, no one will notice."
She did not know what to say, where to start. Any description, meant to keep them in their beds, would provoke them to picture events much worse than they were, but they certainly misunderstood her silence as confirmation or approval. "Isn't it enough that I told you what happened, Harry?"
"You did, but see, if Ron feels he has to know -"
"Don't you trust me?" The words had escaped her lips, snuck out in a moment of carelessness.
"Trust has nothing to do with it", Harry disagreed. "You're blowing this out of proportion."
"You won't get off with detention if a Squad member -"
"We'll be back in the dormitory in no time", Harry waved away her concerns.
Another feeling melted with the angry, sour unrest in her abdomen. A cold, sucking emptiness of good intentions followed by no resonance at all, fading away without a trace. The feeling of a lack of trust in her. She had never suspected this to hurt so much.
Professor Sinistras appearance saved her from engaging in the discussion any further.
They completed their star charts in silence and concentration, knowing that the next time they appeared in the tower in a fortnight, exams would have finally started, and term was gratefully coming to an end.
The sheets had dried up by five thirty. Their fine wrinkles spoke to the effort she had put in: A dry off charm would have left them smooth and flat. Despite her arms aching in protest, Hermione felt a grim satisfaction when she pulled them down, folded them neatly and started to distribute them evenly between the two Ginny's.
She almost dropped them at the sight of the grey eyeballs.
Heart racing, she tiptoed up to the drawer, pulling it without a sound. Two sheets and several bandages fitted neatly into it. Ginny had decided to keep the headscarf on, saving her from looking at her baldness. Hermione watched her chest move swiftly and soundless. With her back turned to the candle and the drawer, she looked peacefully asleep like any other patient.
The suns was rising already. Clutching the sheets on her aching arm, Hermione reached into her pocket. With a whipping move, the candle went out.
Ginny stirred. A pause interrupted her breathing, followed by a cough. Huddling around the bed, Hermione discovered fresh spots of blood on the pillow. Ginny was still vast asleep. Tightly grabbing the stack of freshly dried laundry, Hermione hurried to Madam Pomfrey and told her what she had witnessed.
"That's among the most important qualities", the nurse told her, "A basic vigilance. Observing your patient constantly, without prying too much into their privacy. Now stuck those into the drawer like the others, then help me at rounds."
Hermione dared not to protest, but her stomach did not share that diligent attitude.
"You can't have had many decent meals in the past days." Obviously Madam Pomfrey regularly uttered statements in this half-asking, subtle authoritarian tone. Despite its probably calming effect on patients, Hermione found it difficult to get used to, slightly unnerving even. She never knew whether to respond to her phrasing or the latent inquiry.
"I'd rather sleep for a while", Hermione answered, realizing it was true.
"Didn't you go back after Astronomy lesson?"
"Yes, I did."
"But you couldn't sleep." The stern look emphasized the questioning nature, but Hermione chose to ignore the nonverbal information. In fact, she had watched peaceful Parvati between her pillows, wondering when she Harry and Ron had lost their confidence in her, and what had happened to the connection of her to the people around her. The face in the mirror with carefully applied make-up had never felt so much like a mask before.
"It's quite a distance between Gryffinfor tower and here", Madam Pomfrey admitted. "If you're afraid to walk back on your own at night, I can send my eagle to accompany you. It could get help if you happened to meet someone from Inquisitorial Squad again."
"I'm not afraid", Hermione replied. "I'm just … not hungry, most of the time."
Madam Pomfrey gave her a strangely blank, focused look. "You can stay here after rounds, if you like", she offered after a moment.
"Thank you. I'll think about it."
"Any bed except for the first one on the right is yours."
"That's booked for emergencies, isn't it?"
"Yes, indeed." The focused expression had disappeared from her face, to be replaced by a friendly, open smile. "Would you like to learn the silent alarming charm? It allows everyone else to stay asleep, but I will know when someone occupies the bed."
"Yes!"
"I'll show you how to prepare a decent emergency set-up. You need to keep in mind that the charm is the very last step in your preparations, otherwise you'll set it off anytime you touch the bed..."
Time for breakfast was almost over when she left the Hospital Wing. The scent of fresh porridge, bacon and eggs, toast and a faint note of freshly pressed orange juice called her to the Great Hall, but her head felt as full as her stomach was empty, having exhausted her concentration with Madam Pomfrey and her teachings.
Still about three hours to potions.
The creature in her chest, roaring so wildly when Snape had walked her down to the quidditich pitch, didn't throw another tantrum at the prospect of seeing him for the first time since he had pushed her away. In fact, she noticed, none of the passion getting hold of her, both in the dungeons and in that niche at the edge of the pitch, had risen ever since she woke up in the hospital wing.
But memorizing his exact words when he told her about things getting 'too personal' turned out too difficult in her overly tired, famished state. She had no choice in facing him later anyway, so why bother to ruminate on how he would act around her? On top of that, these worries of her felt familiar by now, and had never proven to be substantial. After her duel with Nott and meltdown in the infirmary he had not displayed any sign of proximity, maintaining a distance throughout the assignment of amplified veritaserum. No reason to expect anything but cold indifference from him, Hermione acknowledged. Perhaps this got one unharmed through difficult times like these. My affection is nothing else than weakness.
Certainly most of her classmates headed straight to the library after breakfast. If she withdrew to the dormitory now, she wouldn't run into Parvati or Lavender. Their curiosity was the least to expected, judging by their looks the former day. Compared to Hogwarts standards, gossip about her fight with the Squad members traveled remarkably slow, but the story would reach most Gryffindor ears in the end. Better get as much time in calming solace before a rush of rehearsal questions poured down on them eventually. Turning away from the Great Hall seemed a pretty wise idea altogether, she mused, climbing the stairs to Gryffindor tower.
The common room was indeed empty. She escaped puzzled looks from owners of unknown students coming down the steps to boys dormitory, rushing up to her own. Lavenders sheets were untidy and Parvatis folded neatly, but no robes hung over chairs at the end of their beds.
She was, thankfully, alone.
"Will you wake me for potions?"
"Of course, dear", the grandfather clock replied, "What time would be appropriate?"
"Just twenty minutes before second period."
"I'll ring until you ask me to stop."
The steaming hot shower brought a little ease to her sore arms. She wrapped herself into towels, planning to change properly. Blazing sun welcomed her back on the bed. Had the cloth always felt so smooth?
Just a moment, she told herself, crawling between the sheets, light warmth caressing her neck and shoulders. Just a tiny break before potions.
Just a little peace.