            She tried to remember what he’d done to save her, what he’d looked like, but the dream had already faded in her waking moments. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and yanked the sheets over her head, sinking into the smell of the man who’d once slept here. That she remembered from her dream, at least. His smell, washing over her like a current. It had tugged her away until she was safe from Mr. Malfoy’s clutches.