Chapter 3: The all-knowing
A/N: I own nothing except my mistakes.
"He's really laying it on thick, isn't he?" Ron muttered in disgust, and Hermione followed his gaze through the Great Hall, landing her eyes on the blond haired boy who was putting on a big show of making sure his friends heard all about how damaged his arm had gotten.
Shooting a glare at the back of his head, she scrambled her things together and got up, "Come on, let's just go to class." She muttered in aggravation, not wishing to hear any more of Draco's exasperated lies. "I wonder what the class will be like," Ron said, his voice coming out muffled as he swallowed the last bite he was still chewing. "More like how long we'll have Professor Lupin for Defence Against The Dark Arts. They never seem to stay." Harry responded, shaking his head at the thought.
Hermione remained silent as they walked up the three landings, glad to know that she'd be having a class to take her mind off things soon enough. Taking the watch out of her pocket, she noted that it was just three minutes before class would start, and as if right on cue, Professor Lupin came walking around the corner. "I see you three are early." Ron shrugged, then gave him a lopsided grin. "We have our moments."
Professor Lupin chuckled, then opened the classroom doors and took his place inside at the front. Ron came to a halt midway in the room, a stupified look on his face as he shared uncertain glances with the two of them, "Where are the tables?" He asked.
"I've had them removed. We won't be needing them for this class." Lupin grunted, his voice coming out muffled as he was hunched over the teacher's desk and placed his bag behind it. "What could we possibly be doing to not need ta-" Hermione began to say, but was rudely interrupted as a certain white blond haired came strudding in. "Well would you look at that, Hogwarts's gone so far off that it seems to not even be able to suffice a student a table." Malfoy's voice drawled, an agitation hinting on the edge of his voice.
Biting her lip, she shot him a hard look, her eyes travelling down to the arm hanging in its sling, burning her stare at it so disapprovingly that it was no wonder that Malfoy's gaze abruptly switched to hers, who in turn only shot her a threatening raised eyebrow in disdain. "Go stare at your boyfriend, Granger. I don't need your lingering gazes."
Hermione scoffed, but averted her eyes nonetheless, laying a hand on Ron's arm as she saw him tense up. "Not worth it," she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear over the chatter that began to fill the classroom louder and louder the more students entered the room.
When Professor Lupin was certain that everyone was present, he introduced their subject at hand: Boggarts. This immediately peaked her interest, and disregarded any hateful thoughts to a snobbish git standing in the back of the classroom. Proudly she answered every question Professor Lupin asked, completely ignoring the sighs and jokes from a couple of Slytherin students, and was excited to give it a try.
Not so excited, however, was she when she saw Professor McGonagall step out of the cabinet who told her she failed all her exams. Friendly being reminded by Professor Lupin about the spell, she raised her wand at the woman and spoke with a trembled voice, "Riddikulus!" ignoring the loud snicker of the boy she had forgotten about in her excitement beforehand.
Soon after came Harry's turn, but he never got to dealing with the Boggart, Professor Lupin interfering before the Dementor could shape-shift into something else. Taking this moment to check the watch she had in her pocket once more, she widened her eyes in surprise as she saw the time – six minutes before the end of class – and fumbled with the string of her Time Turner, giving it a single turn and watching with a renewed fascination as she went back in time once more.
How crazy was it to think she had done this with Malfoy not that long ago. She wondered if it would do any harm by using the Time Turner again so soon, but she had no choice. The ultimate reason why she had the Time Turner in the first place was to attend her all her classes, after all. What good would it do to fail a class by refraining from using it?
And so as she was back to where she was an hour ago, she bid a quick apology to Harry and Ron as they arrived on the third floor, and told them to go ahead without her, saying she had left her Herbology books in the common room, one that she would need for the hour after this.
When she was sure they were out of sight, she hurried up two more stairs until she ended on the fifth floor, and made it just in time for History of Magic. Though her energy was a bit drained from the Defence Against the Dark Arts class she had already done, she still managed to get a quite well written four feet of notes she had taken in the class, and was convinced that this would be useful enough to use for her essay she'd have to hand in next week.
The bell rang, and packing her things up, she had a spring in her step as she tried to hurry down three floors and through the Transfirguration courtyard to make it in time for Herbology. "Where were you?" Harry asked as she joined his side around the table, Ron looking at her in the same questioning way across the table. "Had to take a quick toilet break," she swiftly lied, and tucked the Time Turner back under her robes, eyes meeting with Malfoy across the room as he shot a curious glance at her disappearing necklace.
Coughing, she averted her eyes to the front where Professor Sprout was scolding Neville for touching the plant she had warned him not to touch just a few seconds before.
"So what'd you think about Professor Lupin's class, 'Mione?" Ron asked her at dinner, though Hermione couldn't bring herself to look at him, knowing what kind of sight awaited her as she had seen him stuff another potato in his mouth. "Intriguing," Hermione replied, dipping her spoon into her bowl of tomato soup once more, and blowing lightly on it to cool it down. "I wonder what he stopped me for, though," Harry said, his voice trailing off as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Hermione simply shrugged, emptying the last few spoons of soup out of her bowl before replying. "Maybe he feared what it would turn into," she suggested. "Wasn't thinking of anything bad," Harry said, sincerely curious. "I don't know, Harry, I guess he was just being careful. Anyway, I'm off to the library, I've got an essay that's due for next week," she said, stifling a yawn with her hand.
"Essay?" Ron asked, his head peaking up from his plate, a horrified look on his face. "Yes, History of Magic." He visibly relaxed, but then his features contorted into a puzzled look. "Wait, you can't possibly have History of Magic. It's at the same time as Defence Against the Dark Arts class, isn't it?" Harry wheeled around to look at her as well, nodding in agreement with Ron. "Oh, don't be silly, of course it isn't." Then dismissed them with a wave of her hand and a smile as she turned on her heel and left the Great Hall, avoiding any more questions. It wasn't always easy getting away with her Time Turning activities.
"Granger!" A voice hissed, one she desperately wished she could ignore. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked impatiently, slowing her pace but not coming to a halt. She had no time for whatever he had to say, but more importantly, she didn't even want to hear it. She has had enough of him for a good long while.
"I saw you with the Time Turner today," he commented, not being defeated by her unwillingness to stop, and instead took a couple bigger strides until he was right beside her – though careful to keep a couple of feet of distance between the two of them. "So? You already knew I had it." She replied in a bored voice, focusing on the marble staircase underneath her feet that began to change direction, forcing her to grab the railing to stabilize herself. Great, now she'd have to take a detour to the library.
From the corner of her eyes she could see his stare, a burning curiosity layering over the sneer that seemed to have found a permanent place on his face. "You never told me why you had the Time Turner in the first place," he pressed on.
Scoffing, she arrived on the first floor and grumbled to herself as she now had to walk up an additional two floors thanks to the moving stairs. "I don't see why I should justify myself to you, Malfoy."
Malfoy grabbed a hold of her arm and forced her to a halt, releasing her arm as quick as he had grabbed it as if her skin had burned him. A snarl clung to her lips, unable to belief how disgusted he could be by her. "I know you're using it to get to all your classes," he said, closing the distance between the two.
Hermione saw a woman in the portrait on the wall shooting a surprised look at the two, as if seeing them together was the last thing she'd ever expect to see in this castle. "Well, aren't you a clever boy. If you're so smart to have figured it out yourself, why bother confronting me?"
Her eyes travelled down to his arm in the sling once more, and felt the surge of anger rushing back to her, and gave him no time to answer as her words left her mouth before her brain even comprehended her thoughts. "Or did you perhaps come to seek my help for your classes?"
The question got him rooted to his spot, looking perplexed before composing himself and forming a snarl on his lips and taking one final step forward, enough to force her to look up at him because he was too tall for her to do otherwise. "Watch your mouth, Mudblood. You aren't that safe without your puppets around."
With that he turned on his heel, his robes rumbling behind him as he walked back down the marble stairs they had come up with, and she continued to watch until he completed disappeared out of sight.
Growling in frustration, she shot the woman in the portrait a look, before muttering under her breath, "Enjoying the bloody show?" Which only earned her a disapproving click of the woman's tongue as she began to ramble about disrespectful teenagers roaming around the castle.
Having enough of that, she continued her way to the library, and sprawled her books out on a deserted table at the fifth row, where she retrieved the notes she had taken in History of Magic class and began her essay.
"Miss Granger," it wasn't until her name got repeated for a third time that she finally noticed she was being addressed, and with a startled gasp she stopped writing mid-sentence, only to look up and find a smiling man standing in front of her, his robes draped around his body and his beard having grown so long she wouldn't be surprised if it would reach the ground before she'd graduate from Hogwarts.
"Professor Dumbledore," she acknowledged, completely disregarding her essay now. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here." The old man chuckle, folding his hands on top of each other and resting them on his stomach. "I could see that."
Giving her Headmaster a sheepish smile, she wondered what he could possibly want from her. "Is there a problem, sir?" Hermione asked when it became clear that he wasn't going to be the first to talk. "Actually, I was wondering that myself." Dumbledore shot a quick glance around the library, and as Hermione followed his gaze she could see the subtle glances thrown their way from stray students working on projects. "Ah, but perhaps it would be better to talk somewhere a bit more private?"
Feeling her heartbeat quicken, she gave a quick nod as she began to pack her bag, almost spilling her ink on her essay as she screwed the lid back on. A thousand thoughts raced through her head, though they were only centred around one thing: what could she have possibly done?
Closing her bag, she got up and ignored the stares from some fourth year Hufflepuff girls in the corner, and another stare from a second year Ravenclaw near the entrance. I did nothing wrong. She kept telling herself, as if it was a safe mantra that kept her sane. "Winegums," the Headmaster said, and if it wasn't for her anxiety, she would have smiled at his use of Muggle candy as a password.
"Have a seat," Dumbledore said, waving his hand in the direction of a chair in front of his desk, and proceeded to sit on the other side of it. Hesitantly, she did as she was told, and let her bag drop down next to her legs, feeling the comfort of the books pressing lightly into her, holding the strap between her hands and fumbling with it to create a sense of comfort.
The grey bearded man looked her over, his eyes reaching just over the edge of his half-moon spectacles, a sense of curiosity so very present that she began to wonder whether she had gotten here to be punished or to inform him that Muggles didn't actually bathe with rubber ducks.
"Sir?" He seemed to snap out of it, though wasn't caught off guard. He simply smiled at her, with such a sympathy as if he pitied seeing her in such an anxious state. "I got word tonight of one of the portraits on the first floor, saying she saw you and Mr Malfoy bicker." Remembering the woman all too well, and also how she had silently lashed out at her, she braced herself for the trouble she'd get in.
When she said nothing, he simply pressed on as gently as he could. "She said something about the use of a Time Turner, and I couldn't help myself but to wonder why in the world you would have told Mr Malfoy about such an important object that I for a fact know that even Mr Weasley and Harry do not know about."
Instead of looking angry, he had a light mischievousness over him as he leaned slightly over the desk, and raised a curious eyebrow as he lowered his voice, as if on the other side of the door the entire school was listening in. "Unless, of course, everything between you and Mr Malfoy is some kind of a facade.."
Momentarily caught off guard by Dumbledore's insinuation, she stopped him right there before his mind could wander too far off. "Oh, no, Professor, Malfoy and I are nothing like that. At all." She clarified, stuttering in the process and furrowing her brows together in utmost concentration as if she was trying to force the image of the two of them together out of her head. The thought of it grossed her out as much as seeing Ron talk with an open mouth as he ate.
Dumbledore chuckled, and leaned back in his chair again, raising his hands as he shook his head. "Do forgive my curiosity," he said in sincerity, then let his smile drop. "I do wish to know, though, how it happened that Mr Malfoy got word of the Time Turner?"
Hermione bit her lip, focusing her eyes on the strap in her hands, noticing how she had undone one thread in her stage of anxiety, and made a mental note to fix that later. She refused to be like Ron and not use a simple fixing charm on her bag.
What was she going to tell him, though? There was no way she could bring up the task he had given them in the past. What he did back then, asking his students to cross the Law was already a risky thing to do. If the Ministry of Magic would somehow catch word that Dumbledore had ordered them to do that, then he could lose his position as a Headmaster. Right now there was no possible way that the Ministry of Magic could catch word of it unless either Malfoy or she said anything.
So, as long as Dumbledore didn't know, then he should be fine. "Miss Granger?" He pressed, and she lifted her head, opening her mouth to say something, but closing it again in uncertainty as to what to say.
"I, um-," Hermione shook her head, knowing she couldn't lie to the man in front of her without him knowing immediately that it was a lie. Yet, just because she couldn't lie, didn't mean she had to tell the truth. Though she wasn't good at it, she knew that to avoid telling a lie you could just tell someone a blank truth. Just leave out some details.
Well, that was easier said than done. As she stared into those warm eyes that forever seemed to hold a twinkle in them, at the moment even more illuminated by the reflection of flames from the torches on the wall, she wished for the very first time in her life that Malfoy was here. Was cunningness not a Slytherin trait? He'd talk himself out of this with a swift string of words. Something she would never be capable of – and neither ever dreamed to be.
"There has been an unfortunate occurrence," Hermione sheepishly admitted at last. Dumbledore raised both of his eyebrows, but remained silent, only nodding in encouragement for her to keep going. "It happened this morning at Herbology – I just.. I just came from my History of Magic class, and I fear he saw me tuck the Time Turner away as I had entered the classroom."
Unable to keep eye contact with the Headmaster, she averted her eyes to the blank scroll of parchment laying on a pile of books on his desk. "I didn't think he had recognized what it was, but I should have known better. After dinner he came after me and confronted me about it, and well, there was no point denying what he already knew." Hermione said, sounding genuinely guilty. Though she knew that the guilt wasn't for Malfoy finding out; it was for lying straight to her Headmaster's face. The man had done so much already for Harry, and here she was, repaying him with dishonesty.
Well, it wasn't as if it hadn't happened, because it had, but it wasn't how Malfoy found out.
Looking back up at his face, she thought for a second that she saw a hint of suspicion in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as she saw it, and wondered if it hadn't just been her nerves that made her see things. "I see," he spoke, though his smile hadn't returned yet.
"Mistakes do happen, of course. And I am certain it has never been your intention for Mr Malfoy to find out, but I am sure you understand my concern for his knowledge on this matter, don't you Ms Granger?" Hermione nodded, a look of regained honesty. This was at least something she didn't have to pretend. Of course she could understand his concern for this matter – though she knew it wasn't necessary. If he had only known the real reason how Malfoy had found out, then Dumbledore wouldn't have had to worry right now.
Malfoy might be many things, but as much as Hermione might hate to admit it, he wasn't stupid. He knew as well the consequences of speaking a word about it. Which is why, after all, no one at Hogwarts knew a thing yet.
"Of course, Professor." Hermione said, including an eager nod to show him that she was on his side. "I trust that you will take care of the situation as it has played out? For I am certain that I do not need to remind you of why this is so important."
"I'll make sure he won't be a problem." Hermione assured him, then couldn't help but let a look of confusion wash over her face as she realized how much it sounded like she was going to kill Malfoy. Her words did sound rather threatening, so she felt the need to clarify herself as she began to say: "I mean, not like you know.." but Dumbledore seemed to follow her thoughts before she had to finish that sentence, and released a hearty chuckle.
"Very well, then. You may go now, Miss Granger." The man said, a smile still on his face and something else she couldn't quite distinguish. "Thank you, Professor." She said, and got out of her chair, slinging her bag over her shoulder – though muttered a quick fixing charm on the strap before she did – and left for the door, "Good night," she said, and heard a muffled "Good night," as she closed the door.
As certain as she might have felt in Dumbledore's office – she couldn't help but shake off the uneasy feeling as her own thoughts repeated themselves in her head. Because could she really trust him to not say anything about it at all?
Deciding to ease her anxiety first thing tomorrow by talking to him, she hurried up the many steps to the Gryffindor Tower and rushed into bed, willing sleep to consume her before her own mind did.