She smiled and pointed to the foot of her bed. "There will do. Thank you, Healer Tamor."

~*~

Early Wednesday morning, a pair of jeans, a blouse, and trainers appeared in lieu of the Daily Prophet. Hermione dressed, cracked the door open, and walked down the corridor to Oliver's door. She knocked.

No response. Same as the last six days.

Turning on her heel, she returned to her room and wrote him a note to tell him goodbye, and to promise that she'd do everything in her power to exonerate Theo and Draco. She'd ask the True Order to release him as soon as she could. And in the meantime, she asked him to comply — to let them think he was "fixed." Even if it didn't get him released, it would make his life easier here.

She slipped it beneath his locked door and went back to her room.

Two hours later, Healer Tamor came to collect her. They reached the nurses' desk, and he encouraged her to contact him if she needed anything at all.

Hermione thanked him with a thin smile and turned in the direction of the lifts, dismissing him. She gasped.

Ginny stood from her chair in the far corner of the waiting area, winding her hands together. Hermione felt like she was in another person's body as she crossed the room, meeting her halfway.

There was a stilted silence.

"I got them," Ginny rushed out. "Your letters, I mean. I should have responded sooner, but I was in Greece, and then we went straight to the Netherlands, then to Spain. I just got back from Valencia last night. We caught Jugson there earlier this week."

Hermione shifted her weight. "And Ron?"

"Still there. He and Percy joined the hunt for Minister Santos."

Hermione nodded. Her heart felt like a vice had wrapped around it.

"I tried to do what you asked of me after Greece. But they wouldn't let me, and I just—I just needed to lose myself in something." Ginny's voice trembled. "I'm sorry if you felt forgotten."

"It's alright," said Hermione. It wasn't, but it would be. "Ginny, I understand—"

"I don't." Her smile was bitter. "Sometimes I think I've become someone I would have hated."

"Don't say that," Hermione snapped. "I could never hate you."

Ginny stared at the ceiling, then the walls. Her eyes were glassy. "I wanted to offer you a room at the Burrow. If you'd like." She bit her lip. "You're not… required to come with me, or—"

Hermione threw her arms around her, dragging her close. Ginny hesitated, but then she was squeezing her back, clutching her as if her life depended on it.

Tears pricked Hermione's eyes, and she felt Ginny's shoulders shake. She knew the nurses were watching them, but she didn't care.

"I've missed you, Ginny. So much."

"Me too." Ginny's voice was thick as she ran her hand between her shoulder blades, pulling back to grip her elbows. "There's… a lot I still don't understand. And I don't… I don't know if I fully believe that you haven't been manipulated by that family in some way."