Chapter 9

Wednesday morning in Potions, Hermione made her official acquaintance with Fabian Prewett. As she had spent the previous evening at the library, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team had had its first practice after try-outs, they hadn't had a chance to meet then.

Hermione did find Fabian to be more outgoing than his brother, an impression that was only confirmed over the following week, however she also noticed that Gideon was a lot less shy than he had come across that day in the library. The twins painfully reminded her of how Fred and George had been, before Fred had fallen in the Battle of Hogwarts. They weren't as extravagant as the Weasley twins of her memories, but the relation was unmistakable.

It was astonishing, really, how fast they became close. Conversation flowed easily between all three of them, and they always managed to charm a smile on Hermione's face.

Despite this distraction, Hermione didn't forget about her stay in the Hospital Wing. Her magical signatures were separating again. And while brooding about the why took up quite some time in her daily schedule, she ultimately decided that it didn't really matter all that much.

That it gave her an excuse not to think about her scar was just an added bonus. Instead, she turned to meditation again. After the Formalization, it had worked like a miracle. And yet, for some reason, now that she was at Hogwarts, she was making frustratingly little progress.

It did leave her calm and collected afterwards, sure, but she didn't get that feeling of wholeness that she had gotten before, and she intuitively knew that that was because she didn't manage to get the same effect, the one she wanted.

Between the frustration about her failures and the fun she had with the twins, time seemed to fly by, and when Hermione woke up Tuesday morning, it took her a moment to realize that it was the 19th September already.

Her birthday.

Today, she would be turning twenty-three, as well as seventeen. She was allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts again, and she was allowed to apparate. At least technically. She didn't think her old license would still be valid if she even had it with her.

As usual, she was the first one of the girls in her dorm to be awake, and she underwent all her morning rituals uninterrupted. Clouds were lining the sky, the sun hidden behind them. So, no sitting outside under her favourite tree by the lake today. Ever since she had gotten the notebooks a week ago and taken the time to meticulously put down all the information she had, she had been able to relax a lot more.

She had warded the box she kept it in, and hidden it deep down in her trunk, which had reminded her that it would maybe be a good idea to recreate her beaded bag. She hadn't found a suitable one, however, as bags sold in wizarding shops tended to be charmed already, and she didn't really want to put in the effort to unravel those just so she could place her own, especially because those charms were almost always locked, and undoing that... well, let's just say that the effort really wasn't worth it when she could just buy a perfectly fine bag in a muggle shop instead. She hadn't really had an opportunity to do that yet, though, seeing as she was at school.

There weren't many people already at breakfast, as it was still fairly early. For her, that meant she had space enough around her for all the cards and presents she had gotten. There were a lot of generic well wishes, from basically all the Noble Houses, more likely than not trying to curry favour for some thing or the other.

Hermione just rolled her eyes at them and not even properly read them before stacking them on a messy pile next to her. A part of her wanted to just burn them, but doing that in the Great Hall was probably not the best idea. After all, the was a Daughter of the House of Potter, and she should act in a manner befitting of her status.

Among the cards were also a few letters, proposing if not outright marriage at least an introduction to this or that fellow, 'a cousin of my great aunt's nephew's daughter, a charming man who has unfortunately not found his match yet', and might she not be amenable to meeting him and getting to know him better.

No, thanks. I'll pass on that one, Hermione thought.

Gringotts had written to her, asking her (or rather ordering her) to come in with her parents at the earliest convenience to take care of some financial matters that had arisen with her coming of age. There was also a letter from her parents, congratulating her and thankfully leaving out politics and stupid duties for once, and one from James, that was just adorable.

And finally, there was a note. A mysterious note that read Enjoy your Birthday. Isn't life so much greater with a little spark in it?

It eerily reminded Hermione of the note she had gotten in the summer. Folding the piece of parchment up and putting it in the pocket of her robes, she resolved to compare the handwriting once she got back up to the dorm.

Because it was a Tuesday, she only had Charms first period and Transfiguration last. Professor Flitwick happily wished her all the best before continuing to lecture on the finer points of Elemental Charms, particularly the theory of charms relating to the air. It was interesting, true, but she already knew everything Professor Flitwick was going to say anyways, and her mind was preoccupied with that peculiar note.

Since the summer, she had developed the theory that it might have been Andromeda, seeing that she found her and saved her. She would have the easiest time connecting the dots. That the handwriting of her letters and the notes didn't match could be a diversion.

Or rater, Hermione thought dryly, wishful thinking. She wanted Andromeda to reach out to her, hoped she would work through whatever had caused her to throw their budding friendship away for empty reasons that weren't really reasons at all. Hoping that there were indeed such problems in Andromeda's life and that she didn't just simply not want to be Hermione's friend. She hadn't gotten that impression from the letters they exchanged, true, but that didn't have to mean anything.

All throughout the lesson, she could feel eyes on her. At first, she had thought it was only Gideon, who, for whatever reason, hadn't stopped looking at her ever since Professor Flitwick had congratulated her. But when she turned back, she met Gideon's gaze, he looked away, and the feeling still persisted.

She didn't want to look around too obviously, and because she was sitting in the first row as always, she was left guessing the whole period. When the bell rang, she turned around as quickly as possible, but she didn't catch whomever had been watching her. She did spot Bellatrix in the back, however, and averted her eyes immediately. She didn't want to think about her today.

"Hermione!", Gideon called.

He and Fabian were at the door already – how did they get there so fast?! – and waving to her, wanting her to hurry up.

"Coming", Hermione said, and walked towards them.

"Bye, Professor Flitwick", she said over her shoulder.

"Goodbye, Miss Potter", he replied. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too", she called back, before the twins linked their arms, Gideon to her left, Fabian to her right, and pulled her out of the classroom.

"Finished sucking up to the teacher?", Fabian asked jokingly.

"I wasn't 'sucking up'", Hermione protested.

"You were!"

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"I was not! Help me out here, Gideon!"

"Well...", Gideon said. "I will admit that wishing a teacher a nice day does not classify as 'sucking up'."

"See, I told you", Hermione exclaimed triumphantly. "It's called being polite."

Gideon held up his right hand, stalling any further replies.

"Nonetheless", he continued, "you are very much a teacher's pet, Miss Perfect Prefect Potter."

"Nobody calls me that", Hermione shot back indignantly.

"Not to your face, you mean", Fabian said.

"Great", Hermione replied dryly, but honestly, she didn't really care all that much about what other people thought of her, or called her behind her back. And besides, there were worse things to be called than 'perfect'.

"Where are we going, anyway?", she asked after it had become obvious they were not heading back to Gryffindor Tower.

"It's a surprise", Gideon said.

"Should I be afraid?" "Of course not! You know us."

"On the contrary, Fabian", Hermione replied, "I don't really. Sharing classes for five years doesn't count."

"Yes, well. You can trust us, it's going to be great."

"Mhm", Hermione hummed doubtfully.

She'd just have to find out, wouldn't she?

When they exited the castle they were met by a cold wind. The grounds were empty and the clouds overhead promised rain. Hermione's reluctance at the surprise the twins had planned for her only grew bigger and bigger when they closed in on the broom shed, and when Fabian had broken the lock and taken out three of the brooms that didn't look nearly as bad as they did in Hermione Granger's first year, she had actually started to back away a few steps.

No matter if the brooms weren't nearly in as bad a condition as she remembered them being, she didn't trust those things at all. She was afraid of heights, and even more afraid of falling, especially when the only thing between her and certain death – or at least injury – was an enchanted stick of wood.

"We're going flying!"

The twins had turned around with wide smiles on their faces that faded when they saw Hermione's expression.

"What is it?", Gideon asked.

"I..."

"Nothing, come on!", Fabian exclaimed.

Gideon hit his arm, and not exactly softly, judging from the wince that passed over his brother's face.

"Sorry. But it's going to be great! I don't get why you don't want to do it. Is it because we're breaking school regulations by breaking into this thing?", he asked, pointing at the broom shed.

"No, it's not because of that", Hermione sighed.

She didn't want to admit her fear of flying, what if Hermione Potter had been just as much of a natural on a broom as Harry and James?

"Then let's go, let's do this!"

You're a Gryffindor, Hermione. Be brave, stand your ground. It doesn't matter what might or might nit have been in a past you don't remember.

"No, I'm not doing it", Hermione said vehemently.

There you are, she told herself. It wasn't that hard, now was it?

"Ah, come one, why not?", Fabian pouted.

"You're going to be perfectly safe", Gideon added.

It seemed like he had at least partially caught onto what was stopping her.

"I don't care", Hermione stood her ground. "It's not going to happen."

Fabian sighed. "Alright, Hermione. If you really don't want to do it, fine. No hard feelings."

"But in First Year, in out Flying classes, you had so much fun. You smiled, a real and true smile, and your eyes were lighting up and you were happy."

"We want you to smile like that again."

Hermione hesitated. She wasn't just Hermione Granger anymore. There was more to her now.

"Look, you don't have to tell us why."

"If you don't want to do it, say the word and we won't."

Hermione was tempted to give into the offer, very tempted. And yet, she held back.

Something in her wanted to do it. To mount a broom and feel the wind in her face as she flew through the air. She had no desire whatsoever to do any of the tricks she saw Quidditch players pull off on a regular basis, no flips, rolls or dives, but to just fly promised a feeling of freedom that she longed for.

"I... alright. But we're going slowly."

"Of course."

They flew until it was time for lunch, and Hermione had been pleasantly surprised that she had actually had fun. Once she had overcome her fear of not being able to control the broom, she had followed the twins' example and accelerated and then suddenly stopped an flew curves and loops in a way she had never thought herself capable of.

She had avoided anything that would mean being upside down, or close to it, even for a moment, and she didn't fly higher than approximately thirty feet. But she could now definitely emphasize with what Harry had always claimed, that flying gave him a sense of freedom that nothing else seemed to achieve. When she was in the air, whether she was chasing after one or both of the twins (or they were chasing her) or if she just hovered and breathed in the air around her, she could leave all her worries behind.

So it was with a tinge of regret that she returned her broom to the shed and went to lunch, the twins quietly beside her. She appreciated that they seemed to notice her needing a bit of time to herself, to sort out her thoughts once more.

After lunch, Fabian went to Herbology, and Hermione and Gideon went back to the Gryffindor Common Room. It had finally started raining, and she did commiserate with Fabian, who had to be outside for the next ninety minutes in that weather, roofed greenhouses or not. The damp and cold could still chill you to your bones.

"I'm glad you're smiling again", Gideon said, after they had been quietly sitting together for a few minutes.

"I'm glad I let myself be convinced", Hermione admitted. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

They fell silent again, the only noise between them the cackling of the fire. They weren't the only ones in the Common Room, far from it, but nobody was talking. Considering that Gryffindor was widely known to be the loudest House of the four it bordered on a miracle.

Hermione itched to just get up and go to the library, to get a book and continue working, but she forced herself to stay. Just once, she would relax and not stress out about the future. She would enjoy this peace, while it lasted.

She only snapped out of it when Gideon poked her and told her it was time for Transfiguration.

And this right there is why I never just relax and do nothing, Hermione thought to herself. I lose track of time, and unlike when I'm doing research, that time is lost.

Professor McGonagall did not acknowledge in any way that she knew it was Hermione's birthday. On one hand, Hermione was glad to not get any extra attention, on the other hand, a part of her wished she had.

The lesson passed without incident, and she had already planned to go to the library to finish the assignments she had received today. Usually, Charms would have already been done, so it was doubly important that she get to that and Transfiguration both. After the lesson had ended, however, the twins had disrupted her plans by dragging her to the kitchens for an early dinner and birthday cake, and then they had more or less ordered her to watch their Quidditch practice.

"You need to do something else than rot away in the library every once in a while", to put in in their words. Not that they were wrong, per se, but the matter of the fact remained that her interest in Quidditch was marginal at best. And she did have work to do. So, she had argued.

"I did do something other than 'rotting away in the library' today. And while I get what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it, I'm not really interested in Quidditch, and even less in watching you practice. And there is stuff I have to do, that I haven't done yet because I spent the day with you. And I'm not saying I regret it", Hermione stalled their protests, "but it is the truth. And besides, the weather is shit."

At that, they had laughed out loud.

"Okay, we're letting you go."

"But only because of the cursing", Fabian added with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Better that than nothing", Hermione replied jokingly. "Seriously though, if you want me to, I'll come to the games. You know, cheer for you or something."

"Really?", Gideon asked surprised.

"You don't have to, you know", Fabian said.

"I want to", Hermione said firmly.

If that was what it took to solidify the tenuous friendship they had, she would do it anytime.

"Alright, see you in potions tomorrow, then?", Fabian asked.

"See you", Hermione replied, and then sent them a smile and turned away before the situation could become awkward.

She immediately went to the library, seeing as she didn't really need dinner anymore after the 'snack' she'd just had in the kitchen, and started her Charms essay. When she finished that, her eyes were ready to fall closed, but a glance at the time told her that it was way too early to go to bed.

She tried working on Transfiguration, without much success. Even though she wasn't doing the work for the first time, it still required concentration, something she didn't really have at the moment.

So instead, she did something she hadn't done in a long time; she picked up a fiction novel. She didn't get very far, however, before she noticed a presence nearby, and lowered the book.

"What do you want, Bellatrix?", Hermione asked wearily.

She just couldn't find it in herself to feel more than that at the moment. She was exhausted, and didn't want to fight.

"Oh, I just thought I'd say 'Hi'", Bellatrix replied. "See how my favourite Gryffindor is doing and all."

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Well, you've seen me. Go away."

"The fun hasn't even started yet", Bellatrix pouted.

"On the contrary, the whole day has been great fun for me. You, however, are in the process of ruining it. So, if you don't mind, leave me be."

There was something in Bellatrix's eyes, Hermione didn't know what it was, but it was unlike anything she had ever seen there before.

"I have better things to do anyway", Bellatrix just said, shrugging, and miraculously she turned around and left Hermione alone.

That action was so out of character that Hermione continued to stare after the other witch even though she wasn't even visible anymore for a long time, the book in her lap forgotten. She was only shaken out of her stupor when she could feel breathing on her right cheek.

"Happy Birthday", a voice whispered in her ear, but as Hermione turned around sharply to see who was there, she was alone.

Her heart was beating frantically in her chest, and she decided that maybe it was time to call it a night, although it was still fairly early. It seemed she was even more exhausted than she had thought she was, and needed sleep more urgently than she had originally thought.

Her mind was playing tricks on her, first Bellatrix and now that voice. Returning the book she was reading to the shelf, Hermione picked up her bag and left the library.

Today was a good day, she thought to herself on the way back to Gryffindor Tower. She firmly banned all mysterious notes and voices from her head and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

One and a half weeks later, Hermione was once again invited to Professor McGonagall's office. The timing was especially convenient because it allowed her to get out of the nice 'get-together' of the Slug Club she had been invited to.

For days, she had worried about what to do, if she should go or not, when a note from her Head of House had saved her on Friday evening. And still, through the relief she felt a slight anxiety arose. With everything else that had been going on, she had largely succeeded in putting the issue off her mind, but now Bellatrix's words from two weeks ago came back fully, haunting her.

They were already halfway through the second game, which would probably be the last one for the night, and Hermione still hadn't found the courage to ask the question. Throughout those two weeks, it had passed mind more than once to stay behind after Transfiguration, to seek Professor McGonagall out in her office, or even just write her a note, but so far, she had done nothing.

It wasn't even that hard, asking a simple question. It was only the answer she was afraid of. It had taken her a while to finally admit it to herself, but now that she'd arrived at that point, she knew. And she had a sneaking suspicion as to what the answer to her question would be, and she did not want to hear it.

Because that would force her to confront reality, a reality that was completely new to her, and still should have been expected. It would mean being placed in a position, in no way out of her own volition, that she had looked down on her whole life. It would mean she had become the very thing she had always despised.

"Professor", she began. "I had a question."

"Ask away", Professor McGonagall replied.

You're a Gryffindor, aren't you?, Hermione asked herself.

"Was I only made Prefect because of my family name?"

There, it was out. Instead of an immediate denial, Professor McGonagall sighed, and Hermione could feel her heart sinking. She had been right.

"Not only because of that, Miss Potter. I would be lying if I said it didn't play any role at all, however."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Hermione refused to jump to conclusions.

"It means that you, as well as Miss Gamp or Miss Vaughn could have reasonably been granted the position. Your grades are all similar enough, and all of you would have completed your duties with utmost diligence. The Potter family, however, is the most prominent of the three, especially with the increasing political activity in the last few generations."

And had Lord Potter been displeased by the fact his daughter didn't get elevated status, he could have made that displeasure known easily enough. And that would have been bad for the school, Hermione silently added.

So, the same reason Malfoy got made Prefect, even though it was clear from the beginning he would abuse his authority, and probably also why Ron had been made prefect instead of Harry, who might have been the Boy-Who-Lived, but didn't have any family, Neville, who only had his grandmother, or Dean, who was muggleborn.

"What has brought on that question?", Professor McGonagall asked after a moment of silence. "Mate, by the way."

Hermione quickly moved her remaining knight in the way before responding.

"Something Bellatrix said", she said quietly.

"Miss Black?", Professor McGonagall said surprised. "I didn't realize you were on speaking terms."

Hermione laughed dryly. "More like fighting terms, I'd say."

"Do try to keep the damage to a minimum, please", the Professor said. "I'd prefer to not see something like what happened four years ago again."

"Yes, Professor", Hermione replied.

What happened four years ago?

"Did you enjoy your birthday?", Professor McGonagall suddenly asked a few moves later.

"I did", Hermione replied. "Gideon and Fabian took me flying."

"I wasn't aware you liked it", Professor McGonagall said. "I don't believe I have ever seen you on a broom."

"Yes, well, I do. I just didn't know before."

"I'm not judging you, Miss Potter. While an enjoyable pastime, it is seldom required for a profession."

"Why did you accept this?", Hermione suddenly asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you accept teaching me chess? You have already so much to do. You are Deputy Headmistress, Head of House Gryffindor and Transfiguration Professor for all seven year groups. I don't imagine you have much free time at all. Why did you agree to spend some of it doing this, when I could have just as easily asked someone else, who has more time and isn't my teacher?"

Professor McGonagall stayed silent for a moment before responding.

"Let me ask you a question of my own before I answer yours, Miss Potter. You are, of course, right, and you are a smart girl. You have known this even before you asked me. So, why did you ask me, and not someone else, as you said you could have done?"

Time for honesty, Hermione thought.

"I didn't know who else I would ask. I don't know if you know this, but I haven't really had any friends for the last few years."

"I have noticed you have become close to the Prewett twins lately, however."

"I have, but they aren't really the type for games that require patience, like chess does. And also, well, I had never really planned on asking you, to be honest. It was more a spur-of-the-moment decision when I saw the chess set on your shelf, and I didn't think you'd ever accept."

"And there you have your answer, Miss Potter."

"How do you mean? I don't understand..."

"I could see it was a spontaneous question, but I could also see that it was both important to you and that, if I declined, you would never ask anyone else again. I have no idea why it is important to you, and you are under no obligation whatsoever to tell me, but I feel like I there is much I have to make up to you."

Professor McGonagall continued before Hermione could ask anything.

"You were always a good student, exceptional really, and only driven further to excellence through your rivalry with Miss Black. When it escalated, naturally I felt the obligation to talk to both of your parents about it. When you came back, you had changed. You were quieter, and you didn't let Miss Black provoke you anymore. I thought it was a good change, and your assignments were as close to perfect as one could get. You put so much work into school, and I was proud of you. So proud, that I didn't care to look beyond the empty facade presented to me, so proud, that I missed all the signs that were there, that I can see now so clearly, but that I had been blind to up until a few weeks ago."

"You blame yourself", Hermione whispered.

"I do, to a certain degree. It was luck, sheer dumb luck, that you are even here to have this conversation with me. I failed you, Hermione, in the worst way possible. And I would do anything to make it up to you. If playing chess with me once or twice a fortnight is what you want, what you need, then who am I to deny you? After everything..."

Hermione stayed quiet for a moment, just letting the words sink in.

"I don't blame you, you know. I don't think there is anything you could have done."

"You don't know that", Professor McGonagall countered. "I don't know that. We will never know."

"And does it even matter?", Hermione asked softly. "We can't change the past. We can just look forward to the future and do our best to shape it to our desires."

"Which is what I am trying to do. I am trying to make it up to you in whatever way I can, even though it will never be enough."

"I... you don't need to make anything up to me Professor", Hermione said.

"I want to", Professor McGonagall replied firmly. "It's the least I can do. And remember, if there is anything else you need help with, you can always come to me. I will be there for you."

"Thank you", Hermione said sincerely. "This means a lot to me."

And it did. When was the last time an adult had actually been there to support her? Even realized that she was in need of support, or could be in need of support?

"You're very welcome, Miss Potter", Professor McGonagall replied warmly.

Hermione was reminded that, despite of how it might seem the majority of the time, she wasn't completely alone in all of this. It was a good feeling.

"If there isn't anything else, I do believe we have a game to continue."

It was long after curfew when Hermione exited Professor McGonagall's office to return to her dorm. When she heard talking a few corridors to her left, her first instinct was to search the culprits out and deduct them points for the transgression.

Then, her mind drew the parallels to the last time she had left Professor McGonagall's office after curfew. Not an experience she particularly wanted to repeat. Should she just ignore it, then? It went against the rule-abiding part of her, but ultimately, she settled on that decision. No reason to make thinks harder than they already were.

She was distracted, had been the whole evening, mulling over the words Professor McGonagall had said to her. For the first time, she realized how selfish she had been in just going and dying. Here, people that presumably had nothing to do with any of it were blaming themselves, and she was still here. If it still existed, how were people in her old timeline faring? How was Harry, who had finally been happy for the first time in his life? Had she destroyed that, just for the selfish desire to escape?

When she reached the Grand Staircase, she came to a sudden stop. Both because there was actually no staircase attached to the corridor she was in at the moment, and because a little further down, she had found the source of the talking.

A blond boy was escorting a girl with long brown curls. For a moment, she thought it was Bellatrix, walking with Lucius Malfoy. Then, the staircase they were on turned, and their faces became visible. Automatically, Hermione took a step back into the darkness, not wanting them to spot her, even though she know knew she wasn't looking at Bellatrix, but rather her sister, Andromeda.

It did make sense for them to be out together, seeing as they were apparently betrothed, but Hermione still couldn't explain why they were out at this time, and why they were so obviously not hiding. It seemed a very un-Slytherin thing to do.

Only when she got back to her dorm and was surprised by the other three girls still being up, whispering and giggling about the Slug Club did she put the pieces together. The two Slytherins must have been invited as well – and why wouldn't they, considering the families they came from? – and that was why they weren't the least bit concerned about being out after curfew.

And it meant something else as well. Hermione had so far not had the opportunity to corner Andromeda to confront her about breaking off contact so suddenly, but now it had been presented to her on a silver platter. She had until the next Slug Club meeting, whenever that would be, to work out a strategy to talk to Andromeda without making things worse.

She just hoped it would be enough.

I wanted to have this out much earlier, but Uni work and migraines got in the way.

If you have any thoughts or comments, please do leave a review! I appreciate every single one of them :)