Late in the third night she was a guest, Hermione laid in her borrowed bed to think over the possibilities. It had been an all around surreal couple of days. There had been several people that had been kind to her when she was on the run. She remembered the man who bought her a meal right after New Year's. A twinge of guilt at the memory of lifting his wallet surprised her. Survival meant doing away with superficial worries and concerns about one's conscience. Had she begun reverting back to flashes of the morality her Muggle parents worked so hard to instill in her before their memories were altered? Was she forgetting what it was like to be desperate?