Choose your Battles

7

"WHAT!" she bellowed, standing so quickly, her chair fell back to the hardwood floor with a clatter. "Not allowed? Are you kidding me?" Her hands were balled up fists and her schedule was dying a horrible death by strangulation in the right one. Were it alive, he could imagine the choking sounds it would now be making. But then, there was a choking sound…

"Well, I never!"

"Indeed!"

Both their gazes whipped towards the fireplace to find the portraits of two former professors suddenly seated in their respective chairs that only moments ago had been vacant. For once, something she found familiar didn't surprise her one bit. Same velvet couch, same annoying chaperones.

"Oh shut it! This is a private conversation that does not concern you, and as you can plainly see we are not doing anything inappropriate! So if you don't mind, shove off!" she shouted, tempted to hurl the tightly wadded up schedule at them just for good measure.

The wizards' mouths fell open in indignation before they grunted and turned their attention to the parchments beside them.

Albus, on the other hand, stood there with blue eyes wide in shock at seeing this girl who previously showed such restraint and poise suddenly spit venom at the nosy pair of portraits. For a fleeting moment, he was reminded of Medusa and almost expected to see the old wizards' portraits freeze for all time under her gaze. By the time this thought passed through him, he felt a burning sensation and turned to find the heat of Hermione's gaze fallen on him.

It was rather amusing really.

"Yes, not allowed. I've no idea why they would have allowed you to study them in the future, they're totally unfitting subjects for the feminine mind." His tone was cordial and light, as if they were discussing the weather over tea, not some heated subject, even if the flames were coming from only one side. There was no reason for him to not be frank.

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger felt the urge to slap Albus bloody Dumbledore to within an inch of his life.

Judging by the look on Miss Granger's face, he was extremely close to feeling the inside of her palm. And for some reason, Albus found himself smiling. Unlike sweet, demure Miss Pendleton, Miss Granger was proving to be a more spirited companion. But of course, based on the sudden darkening of her face, smiling wasn't the wisest course of action. Albus coughed and calmly backed a step saying, "Now Miss Grang..."

Hermione cut him off and advanced on him, "Look, Dumbledore, you might think the feminine mind isn't cut out for Potions or Dark Arts, but I assure you, I wasn't called the brightest witch of my age for nothing. I was the top in every class, and that includes Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I want to continue those classes." By now she stood a few inches from him, the hem of her skirts crunched against his calves. "I will continue those classes."

She might have looked hell bent on getting her way, but she didn't know the Headmaster. "Miss Granger," the girl glared harder at him upon those words and he honestly had no idea why it should evoke quite a response, "I'm afraid Professor Price already argued enough with the Headmaster over letting you take Runes and Transfiguration. You're the only girl he's agreed to allow into those classes. I don't think you realize exactly how much ridicule you'll receive for those two courses alone," he offered, hoping giving the girl some perspective would calm her. A little. He might like spirit, but not a hex to the face.

To her credit, she did seem to deflate a little. "Runes and Transfiguration? Professor… er..."

"Price, yes, our Head of House and Runes teacher," he helped.

"Price," she shook her head as if knocking the information into place "fought to get me into those classes? He must not be as… biased as most everyone would seem." Her voice more to herself at the end, she seemed to drift a moment in her thoughts before catching his gaze once again, a desire for understanding in her eyes. "Just what classes do they find appropriate for girls here?"

Remaining herself in this cursed time was one thing, trying to completely turn it upside down just because it didn't agree with her would be another, one she knew better than to attempt. Despite the way it had her stomach falling in despair, she was going to have to choose her battles, and as it seemed, there was at least one professor, and a wizard at that, who would support her. Hermione had, in a way, already won her first battle; best not to risk losing the spoils just yet.

Albus, seeing her coming back down to earth, walked over and righted her chair, offering it to her again though she waved off his attempt to help her tuck in. "Arithmancy, Divination, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and Practicals," he listed taking his own seat again. "I've no idea what Price said to convince him of your being capable of Runes and Transfiguration, but I'm willing to venture that if you don't hold up to the Headmaster's expectations, he'll make Professor Price regret ever talking him into it."

"I knew I wasn't going to like Torin," she mumbled, causing Dumbledore to chuckle.

"Few of us do."

Smiling weakly, she looked up at him and he felt his own mouth turning up. He felt for her, he really did. Not only was she in a different time, but alone, and being forced into confines she apparently didn't have in her time. He could only imagine what such a thing would make him feel.

"This is going to take some getting use to," she remarked, putting a hand to her stomach and trying to take a slightly deeper breath. "And I do mean more than this cage."

Albus smiled and shook his head. "I take it women in your time don't confine themselves in corsets. Surely they don't go about…" A loud cough from the fireplace interrupted him and he turned to find one of the portraits glaring at him as if he had been inspecting her corset and not commenting on it.

Hermione giggled and reached for the glass of pumpkin juice that had appeared on the table with the rest of their meal. After taking a sip, she set the glass down and leaned forward a bit, whispering to Dumbledore as he turned away from the portrait and began to unfold his napkin. "I see he hasn't changed in over a hundred years."

"He's still there in your time?" he asked, buttering a roll. "You haven't ripped him from the wall?"

Chuckling she sat back and reached for her own napkin. "Not that I didn't try." Dumbledore laughed and bit the roll in half. Smoothing out the white linen, she added, "Just so you know, if you take your wand to them, you get a rather nasty jolt."

"I'll take that under advisement," he replied with those damn twinkling eyes again and the thought suddenly crossed her mind that perhaps one wouldn't get that jolt now, as it might now have been her to plant that idea in the future headmaster's head. Oh, this time travel thing was going to be trickier than she thought. How was she to get through a year here without influencing something? She'd be a fool to think she'd manage not tainting the time line in someway, but she could do her best to prevent as much of it as possible, and that, she knew, was going to be the hardest part of her stay here.

Silence fell as they ate, Hermione finding herself filling quicker than usual when her plate was only half cleaned and she could take no more without depriving herself of the little lung space she already possessed. Setting her utensils aside, she tried to breath a sigh but found it almost impossible. "I'll never finish a meal with this contraption on," she grumbled, drawing his attention. "Tell me, how do women in this time eat enough to stay alive? There must be a trick to it."

With a chuckle, Albus wiped his mouth before replying. "Well, I must say, I don't recall seeing a lady eating quite as heartily as you have just now, but I do find it a nice change. I honestly can't see how one survives eating like a bird."

"I wondered that too, until I put this ridiculous thing on. Now I wonder how I'm even to breathe without losing consciousness." Hermione tried to wiggle the corset into a more comfortable position, but only made matters worse causing her breath to hitch as she winced.

Seeing her discomfort and frustration, Albus smiled lightly and set his napkin on the table beside his empty plate. "Miss Granger," he noted the slight contortion in her face at the address and decided to look into the matter later, "today must have been trying for you. One can't adjust to all the changes in a matter of hours, so perhaps it would be best if you retired and freed yourself from..." He coughed and gestured towards her corset, much to the displeasure of the eldest professor who harrumphed from his frame as Hermione smiled weakly and nodded.

Albus walked over and pulled back her chair, offering his hand to aid her to her feet and after a moment of her eyes laying on it, took it and got to her feet. "Go rest and we'll speak again at breakfast. I'll request it in here so we'll have a little time to go over your concerns before class."

Helping her to the door to her rooms, Hermione only gave a fleeting thought to the fact that her hand was once again in her headmaster's as she just wanted to make it in through the doorframe with what little air was left in her. No matter how much her hand touching his screamed for her attention, her desperate need to get out of that damned corset was foremost in her mind. Grabbing the frame and pulling her hand from Dumbledore's grasp, she smiled at him. "Thank you and goodnight."

"Goodnight," he replied as the door was closed in front of him. Sighing he turned around, gathered his books from the couch and as he reached the door to this own rooms, heard a loud intake of breath followed by an exclamation of Thank God, causing him to chuckle as he closed his own door behind him.