The water is scalding hot and that is what Hermione wants; even though it hurts in its own way, it feels cleansing. It reaches to her shoulders when she sits, cradling her as she sinks beneath it, drifting under with her hair trailing round her like seaweed. It is serene and peaceful under the heavy, comforting water, and she feels safe, warmth and calm suffusing her. It eases the pain, just a little. It is a reprieve, a soothing balm, a moment in a place of sanctuary, with her eyes shut and bubbles of air tickling out her nostrils, every inch of her surrounded by gentle, clean heat.