A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far! I'm glad there's some people enjoying the story.
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CHAPTER TWO
He lay awake, listening to the sounds of the night outside the tent. She had taken them to a small wood not far from Hogsmeade; Hogwarts was visible as a series of jagged spikes on the horizon. Settling into the tent seemed second nature to her – she said she and her friends had moved around a lot in the last year. She had not been specific, which frustrated him, but maybe it was for the best.
The first thing she did was ward the area heavily. In this strain of magic, at least, he could keep up with her. Wizards had always been paranoid and he knew many spells to repel prying eyes. Why she felt the need to protect them so greatly was another matter.
He couldn't relax his mind enough to sleep. In the bunk opposite, his companion was breathing evenly, a slight smile on her face. He had made her happy today and it both pleased and scared him. Power over her was something her did not seek. While he would rather die than abuse her trust, power and the search for knowledge did strange things to him that he preferred not to think about. She had been so ready to put faith in him where no one else seemed to any more.
Tomorrow they would begin the search to send her home, but already the thought of her going saddened him. He had been alone before she came, but he had not known her friendship. He felt stupid, acting like they had been friends for years. It almost seemed like they had been. Eventually, her face filling his thoughts, he drifted to sleep.
---
As he drifted gradually into consciousness, it was a while before he realised where he was. On opening his eyes he noticed two things; one, that the tent was filled with bright sunlight and two, that Hermione's bunk was empty. A quick glance around him showed that she was crouched over some kind of flame, cooking breakfast. When she noticed he had woken, like the day before, he was greeted with a cheerful 'good morning'. Unlike the day before, he replied in kind. He wondered, yet again, why she did not appear upset. When she spoke of her own time it did not seem to him that she had been unhappy there. Perhaps she was convinced that she would be returning soon.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked. Her reply came quickly.
"No. No, please, let me do this for you. I want to at least attempt to repay you." She had discovered yesterday that, although wizarding coins were given the same names, their designs were slightly different. Not wanting to attract too much attention to herself, she was not going to use her money.
He stretched and rubbed his eyes. If she did not want help then he would not give it – this time. Drawing the curtain separating the bunks from the rest of the tent, he changed his robes and cast some self-cleansing spells. He had barely finished this when she said,
"Breakfast!" It was rather nice to be waited on like that, he decided. He could get used to it.
But he could not get used to it. Soon she would have to go back to where she belonged.
---
She had changed into her new midnight blue robes and he could tell she was desperate to be gone. A library, she said, was just what she needed to make her feel at home. With this he identified; at Hogwarts, he had doubted whether the other students combined spent as much time in the library as him. Today they were going to visit the only public wizarding library in Britain.
"Hold on," he said, hoping she would manage the apparition slightly better this time. She clung to his arm fiercely and he focussed on their destination.
Once again her uneasiness with Side-Along Apparition had caused her to grab tighter to him on the journey. Her arms were wrapped around him so strongly that he couldn't move at all. Despite the impropriety, he felt a sudden urge to wrap his arms around her, too. It was an odd impulse that was somehow unfamiliar to him. Back at Hogwarts he had always been much too busy with work to notice any of the witches. What he had noticed, at some point yesterday, was that the witch in front of him was much prettier than the females at Hogwarts had been. The word 'pretty', in fact, did not seem to fit her at all. Her beauty came from something deeper than that.
He had been a million miles away. Dimly he realised that they were still touching and that she was making no move to disengage herself from him. Whether this was good or bad he didn't know. Slowly he loosened her arms and led her gently out of the alley in the direction of the library.
---
The library was an impressive building, located a few streets away from Diagon Alley. It was circular in shape and had a magnificent domed roof. Alcoves in the wall held huge statues of famous wizards and Merlin stood directly over the doorway. They walked up the steep steps to the grand oak doors.
A smaller door within the large doors stood ajar. He led her through it and through a small anteroom.
The space they found themselves in was vast. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the perimeter while many more rows were contained in a central block. Desks, chairs and tables occupied every free bit of floor. Witches and wizards hurried around busily, carrying books and parchment or searching for a book on sliding ladders attached to the shelves. A low hum of quiet activity was all around.
He watched her face; wonder and delight were etched there so beautifully he wanted to somehow capture the moment and preserve it forever. She turned to him, beaming, and asked,
"Where do we start?" It was a good question and he could not answer it.
---
He walked her through the shelves, watching as she tried to take in everything all at once. They passed sections titled 'Alchemy', 'Charms', 'Healing' and 'Magical Beasts' among hundreds of others. Magical history occupied most of the middle block and potions texts filled several towering columns towards the back.
At the rear of the library, set back from the other shelves, a dark alcove was guarded by an elderly wizard.
"Not headed for this section, are you, Albus?" he asked as they approached. Albus shook his head.
"Thankfully not, Mr Avery, though it might not be long." The man gave him a long look and then said,
"These books can give a wizard greatness, Albus. Power. You seek that." It unsettled him to hear this judgement but he tried to appear unfazed.
"It is only answers I seek today. If you will excuse us?" The old wizard nodded briefly and returned to his work.
As they continued round the room's circumference they passed shelves titled 'Quidditch', 'Spellwork' and 'Transfiguration'.
"Those books back there were chained!" Hermione burst out suddenly. A second later she added, "Our safety or theirs?" He chuckled.
"A mixture. They are rare, mostly unique; their use is restricted. Some are dangerous."
"You have entered there before?" He shook his head.
"It is only for overage wizards and even then you need to give details of your reason for reading them. I have read several of the more harmless occupants on recommendation from Hogwarts."
"You said it might not be long before you went in."
"Yes – I think, if we should find these books-" he indicated the shelves – "to be no help, we will look there. The magic that brought you here seems suspicious, if not actually Dark." They had walked the perimeter and were now faced with the exit and an information desk. Quietly she asked him,
"What age is overage?" He looked surprised at her ignorance only for a second.
"Twenty-one."
"Oh. But you can do magic? I mean, outside Hogwarts?"
"As soon as you leave, yes."
"Oh." She stared around blankly for a moment. "Where shall we start, then?" It was still a good question and he still had no answer.
---
Several hours later, their table covered in texts from the 'Curses' section, Hermione put down the book she had been reading and sighed.
"I'm no nearer to it. There's been no mention of time in any of these spells." Albus had to agree. Even in this unrestricted part of the library he had found curses to kill and maim in a million different ways. There were curses causing infertility, muscle wasting and blindness, but not even passing references on the subject of time.
"Let's go home. I think we should be reading books from your time first." Hermione nodded.
"Albus," she said suddenly, "has the Time-Turner been invented?" He frowned at the mention of such an unfamiliar and intriguing object.
"No," he answered, "What is its use?" She smiled.
"It can transport the user back short periods in time. To my knowledge you can't actually run it forwards, but I should have liked to know the principles it works on."
"Isn't it complicated, everyone going back in time? Isn't it dangerous?" He looked confused.
"Oh, very," she replied. "The Ministry don't give them out to just anyone. I don't know exactly how many there are, but it's not many. I had one once. When I… er… well, I took more lessons than there was time in the day. I needed some help fitting them all in." He laughed.
"See if your books have anything about these Time-Turners, then," he said.
Grabbing armfuls of books and shoving them back on the shelves in roughly the right order (a couple huffily rearranged themselves, muttering) they headed for the door. Normally a wasted morning in the library would have annoyed him, but it didn't seem so bad today.
---
She was sitting in an armchair, legs tucked underneath her and a book open in her lap. One hand held the page and the other twisted a lock of hair idly. Her front teeth worried her lower lip as she read, eyes sweeping the page frantically. He had been watching her for over a minute but couldn't seem to look away. His research suddenly did not seem as interesting as usual. Knowing she would laugh if she caught him staring, he eventually averted his eyes.
None of her books seemed to mention Time- Turner use, but he had learnt some interesting things along the way. Sadly she had given him her oldest and most uninformative books to read – it seemed she didn't want to tell him any more of the future than possible. This did not irritate him as much as it had done. Why would he want to know everything? He returned to his reading.
A while later, engrossed in a page regarding Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, he remembered something he had read before. Magic, while often seeming boundless, was restrained by certain rules. Like the exceptions to Gamp's Law, some magic is simply impossible. Excitedly he produced his leather pouch and began rifling through his books.
---
Hours later, darkness falling outside, Albus began to read faster than before.
"Here's something," he said a moment later.
"What?" she jumped up and sat on the arm of his chair, reading over his shoulder.
'Spellcasting to alter the state or properties of an object, says philosopher Romulus Peakes, can only be done within a set of predefined rules. Peakes believes Muggle philosophy is the key to understanding this magical theory.
"Muggle thinkers are beginning to consider something known as 'dimensions'. They believe that there world is three-dimensional. Everything they see has three dimensions; a length, a width and a depth. They are trying to discover dimensions their world does not have. At the moment, they speculate that the fourth dimension is time, or the ability to move freely through time."
Peakes' new theory states that magic, being in fact the fourth dimension, can manipulate these four dimensions. He believes time, the fifth dimension, is unbreachable.
"We can change an object's shape – its length, width and depth – and we can change its magical capacity. We do not, however, have a way of manipulating time."
Other wizards studying the subject believe that time will be magic's new conquest. Far from being convinced of its impossibility, some are rumoured to be developing a device to change time for the user.'
Hermione grinned.
"That's it!" she said. "I was thinking we'd have to almost invent the time-turner to find out how it works, but all we have to do is visit these people!" He had to smile – was she naïve or just used to attempting the impossible?
"How are you proposing we do that? Even if we could find them we couldn't ask them anything."
"Why ever not? I thought you were supposed to be well-connected, anyway." He sat up straighter, indignantly.
"I am! But that doesn't mean we can walk in somewhere and demand to know everything about an experiment! It's hardly something you can pass off as curiosity." She deflated.
"Have you got a better idea, then?" Her jaw was set in a petulant line and he chuckled. He pushed her playfully from the chair arm, but, in her effort to avoid falling on the floor, she landed in his lap. She laughed at his obvious discomfort, saying,
"Lighten up, Albus, we're friends aren't we?"
"Of – Of course," he managed to say, finding it hard to think past the pile of Hermione in front of him. Eventually, rolling her eyes at him, she clambered up.
"Let's find something to eat," she said.
---
He was hungry – mushrooms and old biscuit shards from the bottom of Hermione's purse had constituted dinner. Now he was standing between their bunks, wondering what he could do to keep his mind from food. A few paces away, she appeared to be in the same condition. It was only when he noticed her shoulders shaking slightly that he realised she was crying. It occurred to him that he had no idea what to do.
"Hermione-?" he began, but stopped. She turned round, tears streaming down her cheeks. He felt something in him break at her sadness. Unsure how to act, as the cause of her grief was likely far beyond his control, he settled for taking a cautious step towards her.
She tried to smile, blinking furiously in an attempt to stop crying. He took another step. Without warning she threw herself at him, hugging him so tightly it was almost difficult to breathe. Again he had no idea what she wanted him to do; to embrace her fully would surely be much too forward. He rested his chin on her head and patted her on the back somewhat awkwardly.
It was some time before she calmed enough to withdraw, rubbing her eyes. He handed her a handkerchief and stepped back, wondering what he was expected to do now.
"Thank you, Albus," she said in a small voice.
"That's alright," he replied, trying to sound encouraging. "You've helped me. I didn't dream at all last night." He stopped, somehow embarrassed.
"I know," she said. "You just needed someone there, that's all." Smiling wanly, she continued, "Do you think you could just step out there for a minute? I think I'll get ready for bed. I just feel a bit… fragile." He nodded and complied.
On the horizon, Hogwarts was lit up like a beacon. He hadn't realised how much he had been missing it. Shutting the door and lighting his wand, he glanced back into the tent. Hermione's silhouette was climbing into bed.
"You can come back now," she called. He came back through the curtain, shutting it behind him, and sat on the edge of his bunk. After a few seconds of comfortable silence she said,
"Albus?" He looked up. "Would you… would you read to me?" He nodded, slightly taken aback by her request.
"Just let me find a book," he said. She smiled.
A minute later, armed with 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' – the only storybook he owned – he pulled an armchair up to her bed. Pausing only to turn to a particularly well-thumbed page, he began.
"There were once three brothers…" She was asleep before he finished the third brother's tale.
Sighing, he placed the book on the bedside table and whispered 'Nox'. In the darkness he undressed silently and climbed into bed. Across the room, Hermione shifted position and whispered something he didn't catch.
His stomach growled. It had been a long day, longer for the lack of food, and he wasn't used to it. Although he was skinny he had always eaten quite a lot. He had noticed Hermione was thin, though he had no way of knowing whether she had always been that way. When she had landed in his lap earlier she had seemed to weigh almost nothing. Maybe he would take her out to dinner tomorrow.
It was depressing to think of what they would do in even the most immediate future, as he knew they could ultimately have no future together. Every minute in her presence left him more attached to her and he knew there was no way even now that he could walk away and save himself the pain of her going. She was wonderful and beautiful, but there was no way, surely, that she could ever feel more than friendly towards him. He knew he was not handsome – no witch at Hogwarts had ever looked at him – and his personality left things to be desired, but he had tried to please her. She seemed to appreciate this. Seemed to see him for who he really was.
He smacked his head on the bedpost to try and clear it of that pointless train of thought. Angry with himself he rolled over and tried to sleep.
---
He awoke in the grey light of dawn, cold and starving hungry. Taking advantage of the fact that Hermione was asleep and facing the wall, he dressed quickly.
There was absolutely no food in the tent; that much he knew for certain. They were going to have to do some kind of shopping today, but he didn't have a clue where. Muggle London seemed the only real option – wizards didn't have markets or food shops.
A light rain had fallen overnight and the sky was still a steely colour. He checked his pocket watch: 7.15. Having nothing to do until Hermione woke, he returned to the sleeping area to rouse her.
She rolled over, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and staggered up.
"Time to get up, is it?" she said groggily. He looked sheepish.
"Sorry, I thought we should get going. We can get some food from Muggle London." She smiled and nodded briefly, ushering him behind the curtain. A minute later she said,
"Albus?" He turned around to see her head peeking through the curtains. "What shall I wear?" Since she was clearly almost naked he averted his eyes and said,
"I'm not sure. Do you have a dress? I could transfigure it to be Muggle."
"Alright." Her head disappeared behind the curtain. He heard her rummaging through her purse, muttering. After a long time – he knew witches could take a while to prepare themselves for outings, but Hermione? – she reappeared and he saw why it had taken so long.
She looked stunning with hair tied up extravagantly in Victorian Muggle fashion and wearing a floaty lilac dress. It seemed that nothing of her was left to the imagination. He gulped.
"Are-" he gulped again. "-Are you sure it's okay for me to transfigure that?"
"Oh," she replied, "I trust you. How do I look?" A million adjectives came to mind, none of which he felt particularly comfortable repeating to her. He opened his mouth and shut it again. "Is something wrong?" she continued anxiously. "I know I overdid the hair, I'll change it…" He realised she had taken his silence as a negative reply and said quickly,
"No, Hermione, it's all perfect; you look lovely. I'm only sorry I'll have to make it worse." Ushering her in front of him before she could reply, he took one last look at her form before flicking his wand.
The effect was staggering and immediate. While Hermione knew how to change the odd aspect of her clothes, it took a long time with small results. With a single spell he had altered the length, colour and material of her dress. She studied herself.
"That's amazing," she said after a while. "Well, it's hideous, actually, but I'll fit in a lot better! Thank you so much."
Though he was no stylist and the dress was not as flattering as it had been, she still looked beautiful to him. Gazing down at his own thin frame, he took out his wand once more. Somehow with just a few flicks he managed to turn his robes into a shirt, coat and trousers. Her mouth was open in incredulity and he grinned, relishing his skill as he had once done. Shooting her a cheerful look, he took a spoon from the floor and turned it into the most ridiculous top hat she had ever seen. Jamming it on his head, where the green colour clashed dramatically with his hair, he offered her his arm. Giggling, she accepted and they Disapparated.
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A/N: I'm aware the science of 'dimensions' wasn't thought about so early on - it mostly comes from Einstein's theories of relativity in the mid twentieth century - but there was a Mathematician called Poincare who was thinking about it around this time. You can forgive me, can't you:)