It was late morning when Hermione woke. There were shadows flickering through the curtain and hushed, frantic voices drifted in from the corridor outside the Infirmary, which was where Hermione had gone as soon as she was up and dressed. She looked fondly down at Harry, his eye closed and half covered by his blue shawl, which Hermione thought was the one that suited him best, and snoring away like a beautiful warthog.