She was in the hospital wing, all alone. It was dark outside, only bright moonlight shone from the long wide windows. The more consciousness Hermione gained, the stranger it all seemed to her. She heard faint sounds of battle outside, muffled by the thick walls of the castle. It reminded her so much of the Battle of Hogwarts. She squirmed in her bed, making the firm mattress squeak, but there was no way for her to get out from whatever spell was put on her. At least she could move, at least she was conscious, that had to count for something. And at least she could scream, so that’s what she did. She screamed for help, then she screamed Moody’s name over and over again, until eventually her voice gave out. Her hands were empty, her wand long gone. She had nothing, only herself.