Hermione groaned as she opened her eyes, squinting at the white light above her. The smell was comfortingly familiar, and she knew she was lying in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. The pain was gone from her body but she still felt weak. Hermione rolled her head to the side and heard Madame Pomfrey humming lightly in her office.
"M..." Hermione mumbled, her voice unaccustomed. "Madame Pomfrey."
The humming stopped and the nurse popped her head around Hermione's screen in confusion.
"Oh, dear, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "I thought I'd heard something, but you talk in your sleep sometimes... How do you feel?"
"I'm alright," Hermione said, sitting up with the help of Madame Pomfrey. She checked how Hermione was healing, announcing that the cuts had disappeared without a scar. "Stubborn things, those scars were. I don't suppose you remember the spells that did it? Professor Snape had to help me heal them; they were certainly the works of Dark hexes."
Hermione shook her head, still trying to clear the haze.
"It's midday now. You've been out for several days. I won't have you getting out of bed yet while you're still fighting sickness," the nurse said and pointed to her nightstand where a small bundle of letters waited. "Your mail since you left. I thought you might like to read it while you waited."
Then Madame Pomfrey left again and Hermione slowly began opening the letters. There were several from her parents, and she made a note to write back immediately. She opened another of torn parchment and gasped. It was Harry's handwriting.
Hermione, we're very sorry to have left you. We don't want you to get hurt. Don't try to find us; we're very separated from the Wizarding world at the moment. If we need you, we will call. I'm sorry and we love you.
Hermione laughed out of sheer manic. The irony...
She tossed it on the floor and picked up the last letter, from the Ministry. Her eyes narrowed as she tore it open and extracted the parchment.
Dear Hermione Granger,
As it is the 25th day of September, you only have five days left to choose a husband. If you do not choose in five days, we will let the first liable wizard choose you, despite your absence.
Thank you.
Hermione's lip began to tremble.
"Madame Pomfrey?" she called. "What day is it?"
"October seventh," the nurse called back.
Hermione began to shake, but she stood nonetheless. She had to get to Dumbledore's office. Did someone choose her? Was she married without even knowing it? Damn, she should have read the entire article in that paper. She didn't know...
She snuck from the hospital wing easily, and then sped down the hallway. The hem of the clean, white gown rustled around her knees and its long sleeves covered her hands. She stumbled weakly as she stopped in front of Dumbledore's office entrance. The gargoyle looked at her expectantly.
"Oh..." she faltered. "I don't know the password... Please just open."
The gargoyle closed his eyes again, but also stepped aside. A dazzling white beard entered Hermione's sight.
"Hello, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps you should come upstairs."
Hermione stared at him levelly.
"Tell me," she said quietly. Dumbledore looked sad suddenly.
"Miss Granger—"
"Tell me!" she screamed. "Who is it!?" Dumbledore met her glare and sighed.
