A/N: Okay, I realized that I made a mistake. In one chapter, I said that she was at the Headquarters for the Order, then in another I said that she was at the Burrow. I've decided on settling on one place -- the Headquarters.

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Weeks passed at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, rather like they would anywhere else. Remus was spending less and less time with the Weasleys, and people like Moody barely showed up at all. But that didn't stop them from trying to make the coming season more jolly than ever. As Mr. Weasley was so keen on reminding them all, "Christmas is still Christmas."

Even Hermione, whose first week at Headquarters had seemed so very bleak, was starting to enjoy herself more and more. Even the horrifying, Voldemort-riddled dreams that had plagued her so often were slowly starting to drift away. Hermione couldn't have felt more at home at Headquarters, and having Harry and Ron there as well only helped her to ease back into her normal routine. They were constantly trying to distract her from the fact that she now had no parents to go home to. Father Christmas hats now sat on top of the mounted heads of every house-elf hanging from the walls; every wall was gleaming with rainbow Christmas lights, and an enourmous tree was set up in the living room, tinsel hugging its full branches with ease and small white lights twinkling from every knook and cranny.

It was a chilly Saturday, only a few days before Christmas that Hermione found herself in the top-most room, staring out the window at the falling snow as she folded freshly-laundered linen. She hummed a quiet tune to herself, when she heard the door open. It was Lupin.

"Hello, Remus!" she called brightly. "You haven't been here in a while!"

Lupin smiled serenely. "No, no I suppose I haven't."

"How are you?" she asked, turning back to her laundry.

"I'm fine, Hermione, how are you?" echoed Lupin calmly.

"Very good, actually," she said, whipping out a large sheet and measuring up the corners.

"Hermione, listen," said Lupin. "I know things have been . . . tough, since, you know . . .

"I'm really okay," said Hermione. "Really."

Lupin nodded, but Hermione could tell he had much more to say.

"Harry won't tell me anything," he continued. "And rightly so, I didn't really expect him to, but I want you to know, Hermione, that . . . if you are . . . in any way--"

He paused, and took a deep breath.

"If Lord Voldemort is still . . . alive, in some way, we need to know."

Hermione blinked. Of course, it was so clear now.

They thought she was posessed.

"I know that," she said. "I would tell you, Remus, I swear."

"And," he said finally. "On a less extreme note; I'm here, if you ever need anything."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you." Lupin nodded and turned to go.

"Have you gotten your gift for Harry yet?" asked Lupin, turning back. Hermione giggled .

"No, I have no idea what to get him."

Lupin nodded. "Well, if you have any thoughts-- discarded ideas--let me know." Hermione giggled again.

"Of course."

Hermione's eyes rested on the oak door that once held the image of Lupin for a few moments. It made her feel childlike; the fact that everyone was tiptoeing around her like she was a bomb about to shoot of a million curses at once. She knew that nothing would ever be the same again, and that the only way to fix everything that had happened was time. She looked outside at the snow. Ginny was out there, packed in scarves, mittens and coats, flinging garden gnomes over the fence, where they hiked up their trousers and hurried off into the distance. Hermione giggled as Ginny swore loudly.

"How are things down there, Gin?" she called through the window.

"Bloody peachy, 'Mione!" shouted Ginny, obviously full of adrenaline. Hermione giggled.

Suddenly, Hermione felt a sensation unlike any she had ever felt before -- like a vision she'd had of Voldemort, but this was ten times worse, and ten times more powerful. She reached out to clutch the window sill, but her knees buckled underneath her so quick that she had no time to gain balance of her trembling body, and she crumpled to the ground. There was a sharp pain in her head and visions came to her faster than ever.

"You think you are so lucky to be alive..." hissed the voice terrifyingly. "I'll make you miserable till you're dead."

Hermione let out a piercing scream and suddenly...

She was awake. But something was wrong... horribly, horribly wrong. She felt her eyes, the soft lids and the bristly lashes. Tears fell from them and she screamed.

She was blind.

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A/N:Short, I know. But I thought it an appropriate ending.