Chapter 7
Why Granger?
The three of them appeared outside a quaint crofter's cottage with a pop. The cottage was roughly made with stone walls, and a chimney poking out from either end of the house. The tallest of the travelers hit the grassy ground with a thud. Theo looked at the shape of Roger on the ground with a chuckle hearing the other man retch. He nudged Hermione with his elbow, "Hit the ground like a sack of potatoes". His good mood didn't last, however, as his nudge to Hermione caused her to fall with a similar thud. "No one appreciates my humor these days." Theo muttered to himself. He aimed his wand at the two of them to levitate them in pocketing Hermione's wand in the process.
Hermione woke groggily as always. Her head was thumping in time with her heart, and her mouth was dry as a haystack. Turning her head gently from side to side, she saw she was in a comfortably furnished bedroom. The linens in the bed she lay in were equally soft and warm. Light shone through a small window lighting on a pitcher and cup on the bedside table as well as a couple potions. She checked the area looking for her wand. After wetting her mouth with the water, she was just sitting up when the door opened.
Theo entered the room carrying a tray. "Feeling better?" His attitude was much more muted than the night before.
"Where's my wand?" She inquired abruptly ignoring his concern.
Theo came further into the room and set the tray on her lap. It appeared to be a stew with vegetables in a thick brown broth. Its smell slid through Hermione causing her stomach to speak up in protest its mistreatment. "Eat," He encouraged, "you've lost a lot of blood." He pulled her wand out of his pocket and set it on the tray. Gesturing to the potion vials on the side table, he spoke again, "Those are a blood replenishment and pain potions. I brewed them myself, and you know I never failed potions." He said with a cockiness that didn't read on his face that held a mix of reserve, and if Hermione had seen it on anyone else's face she would call it camaraderie.
Hermione unstoppered one of the vials and gave it an experimental sniff. Nothing gave it away as toxic. Deciding that if Theo had meant her harm, she wouldn't be laid up in a comfortable, warm bed, she drank it and reached for the other. "Thank you", she said cautiously. Reaching for the soup, she found the warm broth restored her foggy mind. Then she noticed she was wearing a green and blue flannel pajama set. It was also warm and soft, and completely not hers. She set the bowl back down slowly. "Nott, what is this?" She pinched the fabric of her sleeve and looked up to where Theo still stood.
A faint pink crept up his neck, but his voice held the arrogance of his upbringing. "I believe those are called py-jam-as". He enunciated the word slowly.
"Did you... dress me?" It was too early for this.
Apparently, sensing an opportunity to make things more uncomfortable for her "Yes," Theo responded with confidence. Then leaned forward conspiratorially, "But first I had to undress you". Hermione took a slow exasperated breath in through her nose and pinched the bridge of her nose. Without giving her a chance to retort, he continued, "Don't worry Granger. You have nothing to be embarrassed of." He aimed a charming smile and a wink in her direction. After a pause he added, "Nothing you should be hiding either".
Darting a glance back at him, he wore the most peculiar expression. The cheeky, arrogant attitude was gone for the moment. Replacing it was a complete genuineness that caught her off guard. Looking back down at her exposed hands and turning them over, she saw why. Her glamour had failed with her loss of consciousness. The magic that usually stayed up must have been pulled in her body's attempt to heal her wounds.
In her state of just waking and the shock of the situation she found herself in she blurted, "The glamour is not for me. I know what I have gone through. It's for everyone else." Seeing his confusion, she went on. "Without these", she gestured to the right side of her face, "people can see me without seeing the war. They may have heard our stories, but once they see these it's like they relive it. The pitying looks directed at me are nothing to the incessant pitiful stories of the losses others have endured. They see another survivor to swap war stories with. I want nothing more than to forget the whole bloody war and move on with my life." Her eyes were alight with the truth of her wishes.
She took a moment to collect herself. "What about you?" She scoffed. "You apparently survived the war. Why do you still wear your glamour?" Her accusatory gaze refused to drop from his.
"I…" He hesitated, deciding to be truthful as well. "I don't wear mine because of the war."
"Hermione?" Roger's resonant voice broke in as the tall Scot entered the room. "You're awake! How are you feeling? You look much better."
The moment between them was broken, Theo stood. Looking back to Hermione he dipped his head in her direction and made for the door to give the friends a minute alone. She greeted Roger with a warm smile. Her glamour was back in place.
Once the door was firmly closed Roger told her, "Strange fellow. He has been making jokes about my lack of magic the whole time we've been here. I don't think he said one thing to me that wasn't making me the butt of some joke. Otherwise he just ignored me. Where do you know him from?"
"He was a classmate from school. We had a couple classes together each year, but never really crosses paths other than that." Hermione sat straighter. "Excuse me Roger, I believe I'm in need of a bath, and meet with you afterwards."
Roger accepted her abrupt dismissal without anger. "Of course. I'll get things together for tea and meet you in a bit."
Meanwhile, Theo paced the length of his room. His eyes strayed to his bookshelf gliding unfocused over the titles. He tried to wrap his mind around how he would answer the questions he knew were just minutes away. His presence in this time, while accidental, was difficult to explain. How could he tell her of all people how he planned on running away at the final battle? She was forced into a major role in that war, and he saw that it cost her more than she let on. Judging by her reaction when she saw him back in the cellar, her sudden appearance in this time was as much as a surprise as his had been. Theo was still pacing when he heard Roger's long male stride pass his door going down the hall. Mentally settling on the necessity of the impending conversation, he followed Roger's path down the hall.
Upon entering the kitchen, Theo saw Roger rummaging through every cabinet within reach. Finally locating the kettle, he started his rummaging anew.
"Alright Gandalf, where do you hide the water?" Roger was muttering to himself, still not noticing his audience.
A stream of cold water shot across the kitchen hitting Roger on the back of the neck startling the kettle out of his hand.
"AAARRGHH!", he exclaimed. Turning out of the way of the frigid ambush to look at the attacker, he called out, "What the bloody hell!"
The stream stopped. "You looked like you could use some assistance finding the water." Theo was clearly amused. He righted the fallen kettle, put it on the stove, and filled it. Giving his wand another wave, the kettle began to whistle. A tea set flew down from the cabinet and set itself on the table. Smugly looking back to where Roger stood dripping on the floor he advised, "Take care on that wet floor, Roger. I would just hate to see you slip." He turned to fix himself a cup of tea. A deep growling came from behind him.
"Do you have to be such a pompous ass all the time?" Roger demanded. "I know this must be very amusing for you. 'Watch the muggle struggle' and all that, but I am just trying to leave. There is a person I need to find, and she is now on board a ship headed to America. Which is where we were supposed to be had we not been accosted by a handful of magical criminals with a grudge against you." Roger closed his eyes breathing in deeply through his nose clearly struggling to find the endless supply of patience it would take to deal with Theo. "Hermione and I may have met by accident, but I promised her I would help her get back to her time. To do that we need to continue our journey, which would be much easier if you could stop being such an exasperating inconvenience." Roger spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child.
"Learn how to take a joke, man." Theo replied clearly not fazed by Roger's condescending tone. He pulled up his wand again and saw the tiniest cringe on Roger's face. Ignoring the discomfort of his house guest, he cleaned up the mess from the kitchen floor, and asked, "Would you like to be dried off?"
Roger stood unmoving, which Theo took as an affirmative answer. After drying him off, Theo indicated an empty chair inviting Roger to sit. "Look, I never spent much time with muggles in any capacity, and I find myself lacking the customs and mannerisms of such company." He paused as Roger took the seat. Struck with an idea, he extended an olive branch, "How about we start fresh." He extended his hand. "I am Theodore Nott, you can call me Theo if you'd like."
Roger remained apprehensive looking at Theo with open skepticism. In the end, he decidedly grabbed the outstretched hand and went with it. "Roger Jeremiah Wakefield MacKenzie. Just Roger will do fine, though." Unable to resist, Roger waited a moment and added, "Theo," he mockingly pondered, "I've heard your name before. Heard you can be a bit of an arrogant prick". He smirked at Theo.
Theo expected nothing less so without missing a beat, he responded, "Roger, what a coincidence. I have heard of you as well. They say you can be a sensitive, magicless ass. What a small world." He returned Roger's smirk tenfold.
Hermione heard the tail end of their exchange rounding the corner to enter the kitchen. She puffed up her lungs in preparation to defend Roger's presence once again only to stop upon entering. She scrunched her face in confusion, raising one eyebrow as she surveyed the men in the room. Both of which looked at her with expressions of children caught with the cookie jar. Shaking it off she spoke, "We need to talk". She entered the room fully now to sit at the table looking at the two men in a no-nonsense manner. The men exchanged a glance, their solidarity fully allied in the face of a peeved female and sat opposite her. Hermione's eyebrow raised again as she eyed the newfound partnership.
"Roger and I are in need of a ship to America." She decided to start with the obvious. "We have been delayed too long already."
"I may know a guy that can help find a boat." Theo replied hesitantly.
Roger could feel the uneasiness in the air between the two. Hermione stared at Theo as trying to solve a puzzle.
"Why did you use my surname as your alias?"
Theo's eyebrows raised minutely. Even though he knew this question would be coming the it still felt abrupt. "It was the only muggle name I could think of at the time. As I was surrounded by muggles at the time, it seemed to be a reasonable action." He responded without breaking eye a casual, detached manner.
Seemingly buying his reasoning, Hermione asked the other question that had been burning in her ever since their paths crossed. "How did you come to be here in 1769?"
Theo breathed in through his nose before answering. "Ah. That is the question, isn't it? Unfortunately, I find myself unable to divulge my second deepest secret to you quite yet."
Hermione just continued to stare at him.
Roger on the other hand, "Second most? What's your deepest secret then?"
Theo turned to Roger with his eyes glinting, "My deepest secret?" He turned to Hermione, "I was there that day at the final battle, and it's because of me that you survived." With that he threw her a wink, turned and strode from the room leaving a speechless Hermione.
