Healer Barkley found her around lunchtime, asking her if she'd like to see the library. Hermione's throat constricted, but she managed to nod.

The library in St. Mungo's was cluttered and dusty. Still, Hermione's chest felt less hollow as she wandered through the shelves, her fingers trailing across the spines. She was just about to pick a textbook on healing when she spotted a book titled, Laws of Wizarding Britain, Vol. 1. With a glance at the doorway, she slipped it inside the heavier volume, and went to meet Healer Barkley.

She read until one in the morning. By two, she'd written another letter:

Bill:

• Under the Magical Freedom Act of 1833, no witches or wizards are to have their magic tampered with without executive decision from the Wizengamot.
• According to the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, in the absence of a Wizengamot, a Council shall be devised.
• The Magical Welfare Act of 1967 states that witches and wizards who have lost capability of their mind may be held against their will, but the Welfare Act has specific definitions of 'lost capability.' Please see attached.

Please direct me to the council for which these decisions are made.

Sincerely,

Hermione

The next morning, the Prophet reported that True Order infantries were dispatching across Europe to round up fleeing Death Eaters. She knew Ron would be part of that effort. So would George, and perhaps Ginny.

Ignoring the heaviness in her ribs, Hermione turned the page. She skimmed the articles until her eyes caught on a familiar name.

Neville Longbottom, the hero responsible for killing Voldemort's deadly snake, is on the mend. Insiders at St. Mungo's report that Healers had difficulty obtaining the ingredients needed to treat the venom, but thanks to the dismantling of the Anti-Apparition line, St. Mungo's has received critical medical supplies, and the antidote is underway. Longbottom's release is expected as soon as Monday.

Hermione could barely sit still when the Healers arrived. She swallowed their potions, she let them draw blood, and spoke for an hour with Healer Tamor about her mental state and how she perceived Draco Malfoy.

She told them what they wanted to hear. "A confused young man who made terrible choices."

"And should he be held responsible for those choices?"

"Yes."

When it was done, she asked, "Healer Tamor? Is Neville Longbottom still recovering on the third floor?"

He studied her, tucking his clipboard beneath his arm. "I believe so. Why do you ask?"

"He's a dear friend of mine, and…" She trailed off, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I was thinking it might be good for me to spend time with my old friends. It might help me feel more like my old self."

The pleased smile that crossed Healer Tamor's face made all the lies worth it.

A mediwitch accompanied her down to the third floor, Wounds – Magical & Natural, passing the rows of cots and makeshift beds, twisting around the sleeping or moaning soldiers.

When they stopped at a door down a quiet hallway, the mediwitch waited outside for her as she knocked and entered when a familiar voice called, "Come in."