As she descended back to the first floor, Hermione debated simply going back to her own rooms. She had entered the west wing, poked around, and emerged unscathed; perhaps that would be enough to help with the nightmares. Her blood ran cold as she hesitated on the landing, memories of the worst night of her life flitting around at the edge of her mind. Although she had felt quite confident when she started out on this little expedition,  knowing  she was about to face the exact spot she'd been tortured was another thing entirely. On the other hand, she did hate to leave a thing unfinished, and if three years wasn't long enough to emotionally distance herself from the trauma of that day, she doubted another week or two would really make a difference either. 