She ducked her head, but then her eyes caught on two Healers in white coats, standing next to the Welcome Witch. They spun to face her. Expecting her.

She froze as they approached her. One was rotund and mustached. The other was taller than Ron, with watery eyes and thinning hair.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. It's wonderful to see you up and about, but your injuries are not quite healed," the tall one said.

Lifting her chin, she tugged at her robe. "I need to speak to someone about being discharged."

The tall one stepped forward and said, "I'm Healer Tamor, and I'm helping with your care. Your ribs are still healing, and you recently had mild concussion—"

"I'd like to speak to the Head Healer, please." Her heartbeat was skyrocketing, Oliver's words rattling inside her head.

The men exchanged glances. "Miss Granger," the shorter one said, "you are still being treated by our staff. Now, if you come with us back to your room, we can talk—"

"Who is responsible for my treatment?" When they were silent, she continued, "Per our laws, any patient who is deemed incapable of their own care has an authorized individual who can—"

"Yes, we know." Healer Tamor cleared his throat. "That would be Bill Weasley."

"Summon him, please." Her nostrils flared as she breathed deep, curling her hands into fists. If Bill Weasley was keeping her here, he would answer for it.

The shorter one let out a barking laugh. "We can't just call Bill Weasley and ask him to..." He trailed off at her expression. "Miss Granger, Bill Weasley is a very busy man. I believe he's in Greece at the moment—"

"If he's responsible for my 'care,' he has a duty to come when important decisions are at stake. I'll wait."

Spinning on her heel, she dropped into a chair near the reception desk. She fumed as she tapped her slippers against the tile.

The mediwitches sent her anxious looks, and the Healers whispered behind their clipboards. The minutes passed, and Hermione focused on a single thought, repeating it over and over until everything else burned away.

She had to get to Malfoy Manor.

The clock on the wall ticked an hour. Then two. It was shortly after ten in the evening when the Floo burst to life behind her, and she turned to see Bill stepping through, ragged with exhaustion. She stood as the two Healers greeted him.

"Bill, I need to leave." She struggled to keep her voice even. "Apparently they believe I shouldn't leave. Tell them I'm fine, please."

Bill glanced over her mint robe, his eyes tired, but still sharp. "Hullo, Hermione. Give me a minute, yeah?" He moved a few yards away, muttering lowly with the Healers. Hermione's blood boiled as he reached for a medical chart Healer Tamor handed him, flipping through the pages.

She stormed up to them. "As you can see, my ribs have been tended to, and I'm walking just fine. My head has never felt better. So, I would like to be cleared to leave."