The next day, Hermione woke up in her green bed and was in desperate need of some aspirin. Her head was killing her. Thank Merlin it was Sunday. She didn’t know if she could survive one of Professor Snape’s lessons today. But there was still work to do, so she stood up, reluctantly, and made her way to the bathroom. She could taste her bad breath. Also, she had had a very strange dream. Something about the Room of Hidden Things. Whatever the context was, it couldn’t have been that interesting because the dream was all blurry.