The gate at last swung open and, feeling distinctly naked, Hermione started down the long drive. The hair at the back of her neck stood on end as the sensation of being watched settled over her, though not even a blade of grass moved as she neared the Manor. She found, thankfully, that returning under her own power and in the light of day helped keep her from falling into the memories that still haunted her dreams, and she allowed herself to admire the architecture, which very much resembled the French chateaus she’d seen with her parents once on holiday in the Loire Valley. The tall hedges of formal gardens could just be seen peeking around the side of the house, with a copse of trees beyond it. 