It took her a while to actually get to the bathroom. Stairs constantly changed their direction and Hermione grew impatient. By the time she got to it the light behind stained glass panels was fading leaving the long halls silent and lonely. Her thought threatened to break free, to destroy the cage she kept them in and fill her void. Flooding her head with bitter memories and the familiar odours of places that once were. And never will be, because they were memories for a reason.  