Chapter 29: Haven

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After the last 72 hours, where every second thrived on near-fatal circumstances, the eerie silence of the prefect's bathroom was numbing. Hermione's only company was the water lapping against her body, which echoed against the stone tiles of the expansive tub. The steam that rose from the water had traces of eucalyptus, which filtered from a spout she had chosen, labeled "calming solution." There she was, attempting to relax, her body anchored heavily onto a shallow step at the entrance of the large bath. As she eased back against the stone edge, bubbles modestly accumulated just past her breast line.

There was small hope that Hogwarts could be a haven, now that they had returned. They had hidden away in the room of requirement, but that had been short lived; Headmaster Snape could not be allowed to continue on, and they needed to take back Hogwarts. Collecting what students were willing and professors with an alliance with the Order, the ragtag group had confronted Snape only a handful of hours ago, and won.

After Snape's exit and the demise of the Carrows, there was a brief feeling of safety, but they knew better. Hogwarts was changed. This was no longer a place where students could feel safe, after all, the Dark Lord had tainted it over the years. Hermione's return made her think of her childhood bedroom after her parents had converted it into a guest room. It no longer belonged to her, and she was a stranger in it.

Sitting up, Hermione inhaled the steam of eucalyptus.

The brutal days that had passed felt more like months: packed with her traumatizing transformation into Bellatrix at Gringotts, escaping on a debilitated dragon, and nearly being caught by Snatchers as they snuck into Hogwarts. Every moment they were likely to get caught, every spell bound to be their last.

Hermione took a step into the water...

She reflected on Harry's heroics in confronting Snape. Harry had gone into most everything in his life not knowing... Hermione paused. Looking down into the water, she wondered how he could live his life, always having to make decisions with uncertainty. He deserved better.

Swallowing hard, she barely remembered catching McGonagall up on their adventures. They had filtered out so many things, like Draco. Harry and Ron thought it best to leave him out, along with the horcruxes, unsure of who they could trust. Ron had already expressed his paranoia over the fact that Draco knew so much. Hermione stubbornly withheld that she shared this apprehension and was left to wonder what would happen to Draco, carrying precious information so close to Lord Voldemort.

McGonagall's response to their heroics was simple: she had assigned them rooms in which to stay, and to recover. Hermione glanced over to her purse, sitting aside her bathrobe at the edge of the bath, and thought of the last place she had recovered. The tent was abandoned to the depths of her bag, and it was only now that she truly realized how safe she had been there, with Draco.

Maybe she could cleanse herself of these last few days by fully immersing herself in the tub? Taking a deep breath, she shifted forward and away from the steps, dunking herself under the water. An unexpected panic arose within her and she promptly emerged, gulping for air. There it was again: the exhilaration of survival. Her heart thumped heavily trying to contain her adrenaline, and now the heat of the bath was unbearable.

Water dripping from her hair, she shakily slicked it back so she could see, and scanned the cavernous space. She had never been in this prefects' bath before, it was larger than the one for the Gryffindors. Had the previous prefects shared this bath, or was it meant for swimming laps for leisure? She tried to hone in on something more comforting. Had Hogwarts a History referenced the baths? But her own distractions were useless, her mind insisting on the review of her recent memories, followed by anxiety.

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