Long after the water grew cold, Hermione forced herself to get out of the tub. She wasn't ready for what was waiting for her outside the bathroom door. Maybe she never would be. Once she was dry and dressed in an old familiar nightgown, she opened a drawer next to the sink. Bottles of various sizes and shapes clinked in a loud racket. Picking one up that Antonin always made her take when she was very confused, she drank it down in one swallow. It would make her sleep for a long time, long enough for her mind to clear. When she woke up, she hoped she would be ready to keep going.