In the present, Hermione unrolled the parchment with his handwritten request that she trust Malfoy. No matter how many times she read it, none of it made any sense. Where was he? Why wasn't he seeking her out himself? It might have been another in a long line of foolish hopes, but she imagined that if she wasn't alone any longer, she might actually have a chance of surviving. Still holding the crushed bluebell and the parchment, the exhausted witch fell asleep with memories of the first time she opened the window to her bedroom bleeding into her dreams.