A/N: Thanks all who have been sticking with this story. I have the next three chapters edited and will post all three today. Chapter 17 needs a bit of work so I'm focusing my efforts there tonight and will get the rest of this story up and finished this month. Special thanks to Butterfly, bad-addiction, Callialex, Genesis Noir Gracely, yawnara, irisisharmony, and beccasullivanwrites1 for taking the time to review. Big shout out to Jessi Granger and blacksbear for being with me on this journey since the beginning. I hope this is as satisfying for you as the end is for me as I wrap up the editing of these last ten chapters.
Chapter 14: The Inner Firmament
Friday, February 24, 1967
Sunlight shifted over Hermione's parchment. She had given up on figuring out how Newt had made sustained sun beams without a sun, and chose to enjoy the warmth on her face. The cane rested against her chair. She scowled at it. It was the last barrier to her resuming her travels through time. She could work around the sling, but knew balancing a cane while trying to turn the rings of the time turner was impossible. She had to prove to herself and Dumbledore she could withstand the pressures of the speed envelope while staying upright. Unaided.
"Good morning, Hermione," Dumbledore said from the patio doors.
She turned to greet him, "Albus, come sit with me."
"I see you're planning," he noted the scattered parchments on her table, taking a seat next to her.
"I'd like to change the time of my arrival to the summer so it will be less disruptive," she explained.
"Summer would give me more freedom to help you with your studies we've been neglecting. Are you sure there isn't another reason for this change," he asked.
"I'm not planning on another confrontation with Voldemort, if that's what you're asking," she answered simply, but he reacted as if she had just slapped him. "I'm sorry. I don't have an ulterior motive. There are some events I'll need to witness later that will be easier with this change. Eventually, I'd like to watch my sorting ceremony too." Giving him a small smile, she continued, "Honestly, I'd really like to experience the warmth of the real sun. See flowers, hear birds. This sanctuary is lovely, there's just no substitute for the real thing." Tears were welling up in her eyes now. She blamed the physical stress on her body and the resulting exhaustion from a week of recovery.
He reached out and took her hand. "Of course, I'm sorry. I know this is difficult and I don't mean to add to your discomfort. I'm not satisfied sitting on the sidelines and watching you take all the risks."
"We all have our parts to play," she said with some sympathy. "You'll take plenty of risks; you have taken risks."
Dumbledore looked at the parchments again. "Are you hoping to catch a different sorting ceremony?"
She flushed slightly. "Honestly, yes, but for personal reasons again. The first year class in 1971 will have several students that are important to me."
"If we're adjusting the calculations, I've been working on some changes that may expand the volume of oxygen available. Perhaps we could include some additional edits?"
"We can try. I'm not entirely sure that's what's causing the hypoxia. I feel fine until the moment I start reversing the direction. Then I immediately feel dizzy."
Picking up the parchment, he looked at her with concern. "Could I take a look?" he asked permission.
She nodded and was then interrupted by a knock at the door. Dumbledore stood to answer for her. He returned and she saw he wasn't alone. Pomfrey stood beside him. "Poppy would like to take a look at your hip," he let her know, his face apologetic.
Taking hold of the cane with her left hand, Hermione slowly stood. When she got into the main sitting area, a leather, chaise lounge was conjured and ready.
"How are you feeling today, Ms. Granger?" the matron asked pleasantly, motioning to the seat.
Unable to balance without support, Dumbledore was at her side, helping her sit. "A little stiff," she admitted.
"Hm," Pomfrey acknowledged while reading an updated medical parchment. "Everything seems to be on mend. I can make a brace that might help counter the loss of strength in your hip." When her patient's face lit up, she rolled up the parchment and scowled at Dumbledore. "Your headmaster thought you'd be amenable to such an option."
"It's just that this cane is a bit cumbersome," Hermione started, but her mind was already racing toward her next jump through time.
"Yes, well, I can make the brace; however, the stability charm isn't something I've had much practice. I'll see if Minerva can assist."
"It might not be her teaching specialty, but Professor McGonagall has a talent for charms," Dumbledore encouraged without looking up as he made notes on the time equations.
"Well, that's settled. I'll get to work when we're done here," Poppy said offering a small bottle to dull the discomfort the physical therapy would cause.
Dutifully, Hermione took the offered potion. She leaned her head back and tried to focus beyond the pain.
~~/~~
Hermione woke with a start. She was still on the leather chair. Realizing she must have fallen asleep during the healing session, she looked around. There was a struggle to know how many of her dreams were repressed memories, and how many were her subconscious dealing with the trauma. Taking her cane, she sat up, her legs dangling off the side of the chair. Her hip did feel better, she suspected her shoulder was still the worst of the lingering injuries but it was easier to compensate for compared to her weight-bearing hip. Slowly standing, she found she missed the faux glass and privacy of Dumbledore's former office. She wanted to seek him out; however, as headmaster, he would have less free time to meet with a time traveling anomaly.
Just as she was resigning herself to her solitary evening, a soft knock announced a visitor. Standing stiffly, she tested her balance without the cane. With growing confidence, she shuffled to the door. Opened it. Dumbledore and Hermione stood facing each other for several beats. Hermione smiled in triumph, her celebration was short lived as her left leg started to shake. Dumbledore reached out to steady her and helped her back to the sitting area in front of the fire. As she settled in, he picked up her discarded cane, leaned it against the armrest of her chair. "I thought Madam Pomfrey said no heroics until she has fitted you for the stabilizing brace?" he said with a smile.
"The door wasn't going to answer itself," she replied. "What time is it? What day is it?"
"It's five p.m. on a Friday. Classes are over, the weekend has officially started," he answered. "I thought you might want some company."
Hermione warred with feelings of relief and guilt. "I'm sure you have more pressing issues to address?"
He gave her a kind smile. "You've been my pressing issue that has been neglected this week."
"I'm sorry, I feel like I'm a complication."
"Hermione, the night Voldemort attacked you, I was terrified. I welcomed Tom Riddle into this school twice. Each time, I gave him the opportunity to get to you. On top of that, I asked you to put yourself in his path. Again. I said things that night that were laced with fear. He nearly killed you-"
"-he didn't. He won't. He needs something from me."
"We know that, now. But that doesn't mean he'll show such restraint in a future encounter. What I have witnessed in your memories is a wizard that loses his control the moment he's challenged. Challenged by a muggle-born, Hogwarts-aged student no less. I fear he won't forget this insult," he admitted and then looked at her seriously. "How many more times will you be in the same time and place as Tom Riddle before you return to your time?"
"Albus," she started and realized she could be honest without giving him too much information. "Two more times, but he won't be in a condition to do anything about my presence." She thought about the unpleasant task that awaited her in Godric's Hollow. "There's still much about his movements that are unknown, and there is a possibility for additional encounters. I'll tell you what I can, when I can."
He nodded. "I do understand the predicament you're in. Yet, I don't know what I'd do if I find you again, broken, in a pool of your blood, near death."
She reached for his hand with her left, and squeezed. She was struck by the age lines gracing his face. He was looking more like the headmaster of her time and less like the young professor that started this journey with her. "I'm sorry you found me like that."
Standing, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I've finished initial calculations to change the size of the speed envelope. I thought we could review my numbers and spend some time working on your defense against the dark arts studies? For my peace of mind?"
Hermione understood his fears. She had them too. Her next jumps would put her directly in Voldemort's rise and reign of terror. It didn't take future knowledge to see the trajectory the wizarding world was on. Its collision with Lord Voldemort was imminent.
Dumbledore conjured a blackboard, and cleared space in the middle of the sitting room, leaving a chair for Hermione. As he took care to post his parchments displaying his calculation, Hermione considered the time chamber in the room of requirement. A similar board had been set up. As she focused her mind on that room, another room appeared in her mind's eye. One filled with clutter and towers of book shelves.
"Hermione?" Dumbledore asked, concern evident.
"Is there an instance of the room of requirement that's filled with discarded items?" she asked.
He nodded. "I've not seen it for myself. Through the years I've collected memories and stories. There's a room students talk about where they can hide illicit experiments."
"He went there first," she revealed. "I couldn't see what he did in the room, he disappeared out of my sight. It wasn't long before the room changed, but long enough to either find something or leave something."
He considered her. He wasn't in a hurry to see her back in that room. On the other hand, if Voldemort left a horcrux in the room of requirement, they had to investigate. "We'll go after curfew?"
She nodded and leaned on her cane to stand. Walking to the board, she studied his changes. Waved her wand to make a few adjustments, and took a step back. "It would increase the oxygen volume by fifteen percent. That could also change the pressure," she reasoned. "I don't know if the problem is the available oxygen or the change in pressure that reduces the oxygen exchange in my lungs. Maybe the envelope needs to be smaller?" She turned to look at Dumbledore. "The increased pressure should increase my lung efficiency."
"The pressure is already painful," he said. "I felt it during our occlumency lessons."
"I can handle the momentary headache, if it means it will reduce the chances that I'd black out and miss my window."
Dumbledore studied the parchment, waved his wand and tweaked the calculations.
Hermione reviewed the changes. "That's a very short jump," she said looking at the date. "Six months to be exact."
"You said you wanted to jump to the summer holiday," he said with some humor. "It also makes sure you're ready physically for the stress." He flashed her a smile.
"I didn't mean this summer holiday, but ok," she said with a small laugh. "I'd like to take a walk around the lake when I get there."
"Deal," he said and turned to face her. "Do you need a break or should we start your DADA lesson?"
Still weak, she wasn't sure what he had in mind and was apprehensive. "I'd like to try, but I'm not sure how much I can manage like this," she admitted motioning to her shoulder and hip.
"We can start with theory, and try a few spells before dinner?" and with a wave of his wand, the blackboard flipped over to reveal advanced theory of shield charms.
~~/~~
Monday, January 13, 1997
Severus Snape moved through the alley ways. The Death Eaters were abusing the power Voldemort had accumulated since his return. There would be a reckoning when the Dark Lord resurfaced. Snape was going to make sure he appeared to have been more industrious. Entering the underground stores off Carkitt Market, he slipped through a shuttered storefront with a crooked sign advertising Wands by Gregorovitch. His wand raised, he swept the empty store, when a familiar voice interrupted his action.
"Severus," Voldemort hissed.
Surprised, he turned on his heels, "Dark Lord? You've returned."
The dark form emerged from the shadows. "I haven't been far. Why aren't you at Hogwarts?"
"The other Death Eaters have been pursuing their own self interests. I thought I'd use my weekend seeking a wand suitable for your use against the Potter boy. When the time comes."
"You seek Gregorovitch?"
"I do," he answered guardedly. "You're here for clues of his whereabouts as well?"
"Not for the wand maker. I wonder, tell me what you know of Hermione Granger?" he asked, taking a step forward.
Snape was not unprepared for this question, all relevant memories of concern were safely stored in his pensieve in his office. "Dumbledore doesn't seem to trust anyone on the subject of Ms. Granger's disappearance. If he's hiding her, I don't believe she's at the school."
"Oh, she's at the school. When she's there is another question. But you wouldn't mind if I took a peek, would you?" The wand came up.
Squaring his shoulders, and lifting his chin, Snape relented. After several minutes of silence, Voldemort released the spell.
"Albus is no fool," Voldemort muttered after finding no helpful information. "I know you're risking much on my behalf. I must impose upon you again."
"Whatever I can do in my capacity, I will. You know that. Perhaps you can tell me what Dumbledore won't?"
Another flick of the phoenix wand, and the store was surrounded in darkness. Once they were both settled into adjacent chairs, the serpent-like man started. "When I was in my fifth year I ran into a curious person during my summer holiday. An employee in the department of mystery and a member of the Witan. Not having experience with the nuances of the ministry of magic, I was curious. Some veritas serum in his tea and I was treated to stories that sparked my imagination. Preserved brains of the greatest wizards of the ages, a door bridging the void between the living and the dead, and time turners. Even then, these devices were still considered experimental. When I asked to see one, he confessed he no longer had access." Voldemort paused and offered a wry smile. "The ministry enjoys restricting magic, Severus. This is what holds us back. Fear."
Snape offered a nod of approval but kept silent. He didn't want to reveal how much he knew about Tom Riddle's foray in time manipulation unless he had to. It would be better for Voldemort himself to be his source.
"He did not have a time turner, but he had an important component. You see, he had been part of the team fifty years prior… more than hundred years now… that worked on the development of this magic. Even then he sensed the magnitude of the device. Inside each one is a special thread. An ancient thread, painstakingly restored. It was a simple matter then to take this thread and let everyone assume that particular device was faulty."
"He showed it to you?" Snape asked, sitting at the edge of his chair. Hoping to convey interest to keep Voldemort talking.
"It took some... encouragement," he said, leaving the imperius curse implied but not spoken aloud. "It's amazing isn't it. How some of the most unassuming items can hold such incredible power. The thread of life called to me. I didn't know why at the time, I just knew it would be part of my destiny. Helping people part ways with their possessions was a talent of mine back then. Of course I had to figure out how to harness the power. Fortunately for me, several centaurs in the forbidden forest can be informative if you know how to manipulate them. Some charm and flattery laced with an understanding of their contempt for the wizarding world. They taught me more about celestial power in one term than my entire time at Hogwarts. I had pieces to a puzzle, which I put together when the school itself showed me its secrets."
"The school?" Snape asked, hoping he was still convincingly ignorant.
"It created a room just for me," he said arrogantly. Unable to consider a scenario where other students had availed themselves of the room of requirement. "A room that would provide resources with merely a thought. It was there that I connected time and space. I brought the girl to me."
"How did you know about her?" Snape of course knew about the journal, even if he wasn't entirely sure he understood how even it was possible.
"I had several sources. I considered trying for Potter himself, his protections were a concern. I couldn't afford to fail. I was able to communicate with the Malfoy boy while testing the room. He suggested the mudblood. Thought she would be an easy mark. It seems we didn't give her enough credit," he said, shifting uncomfortably.
"She's got away, in the past?"
"She got away and is moving through time," Voldemort corrected.
"How is that possible?" Snape asked incredulously.
"How indeed."
~~/~~
Friday, February 24, 1967
In the silence of the seventh floor corridor Albus looked at the space where he assumed Hermione stood under the invisibility cloak. It unnerved him for her to be out of sight. He couldn't assess her state, physically or mentally. Casting a repelling charm down both ends of the corridor, he took a small breath. "You can take the cloak off," he said, watched her appear and took the cloak from her. As he folded it, he studied her.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, studying a solid section of stone.
"Are you sure you're ready to go in there again?" he asked.
An uncertain nod was her only reply and she closed her eyes, making the request of the school for the room of requirement. After a few unsteady breaths, the door presented itself.
Dumbledore stepped forward first, determined to protect her anyway he could. The door opened revealing centuries of clutter. As soon as the pair were inside the threshold, the door disappeared.
Hermione looked around to get her bearings, trying to remember the movements Voldemort had made just days before. "He was out of sight for five minutes at the most. I had just enough time to think about leaving the room and then being grateful I stayed hidden," she said and grimaced. "Well, I thought I was hidden anyway. This way," she continued and made her way around a large, dusty bookshelf. "If he brought something to leave here or took something, it was either small enough to fit in his cloak or he had some extension charm that kept it contained."
"In theory, a horcrux can be made from anything. It's the method that matters, not the object the soul is channeled into," Dumbledore explained, scanning the debris.
"I don't think Tom would pick just any object. It would have meaning to him," she reasoned aloud. "I guess I thought such a dark piece of magic would give off some aura… something we could feel."
They spent an hour examining a small area when Hermione had to sit, exhaustion finally beating her determination. She stared at the sea of items. "We need more information," she admitted.
"If I can collect memories from people he's interacted with, we might get some clues about items he considers valuable," he agreed and gave her a hand to help her stand. "Fortunately, I have an abundance of time. In the meantime, perhaps I can ask some of our house elves to catalog objects in a small radius from the door."
She fought a disapproving look as they stepped out into the corridor again. "Maybe they can be compensated for their time?"
"Hermione, you know as well as I, that this would be a great insult to many of Hogwarts house elves," he started and caught her scowl before she slipped the cloak over her. "I will speak to Gerty and see if there would be something special I could do for anyone who volunteered for a special project. Now, let's get you back to your room. I suspect Madam Pomfrey will have your brace ready tomorrow."
~~/~~
Hermione stood without the cane, nodding confidently at Dumbledore. Shiloh hovered nearby, seeming to sense the tension.
"You're sure you're ready?" Dumbledore asked.
She tested her balance with the support of the stabilizing brace and nodded. There was a lot that could go wrong. The speed envelope had changed, the timing was different, and she still had tremors and moments of weakness. "It's a short jump," she said, switching to her wand with the thread of life core and then freeing the time turner from under her blouse. "See you in a few minutes."
He nodded. "See you in a few months."
Once the bubble was in place Hermione widened her stance, a reaction to the increased pressure. Her watch started the countdown. She slipped the wand into the inside pocket of her jeans. Her head pounded and her vision blurred. Shiloh popped in and disappeared. Finally her watch chimed. She started the quick succession of turns. The nausea hit her immediately. Her knees hit the ground with a bone rattling jolt. Pain shot up from her hip. The brace cut painfully into her skin as it tried to keep her upright. She caught movement from her periphery. Albus was there. Before he could reach her, she shook her head. "Sick," she warned.
Acting fast, he pulled a rubbish bin from across the room to her and tried to soothe her as she wretched.
Sunday, August 27, 1967
In the warm summer breeze of the courtyard, Dumbledore looked over the quiet school grounds. In a week students would once again fill the halls, dot the skies on their brooms, and demand his attention be drawn away from his search for horcruxes. Truth be told he hadn't made much progress. A frustration that clouded his thoughts.
"Headmaster?" Pomfrey called, joining him at the far end of green space.
He turned to greet her. "How is she Poppy?"
"She's getting cleaned up and seems to have recovered. Also, Mr. Scamander has arrived for our meeting. Would you like me to take it so you can check in on Ms. Granger?"
"Hermione and Newt are acquainted. I'll ask her to join us, I think we'll find she can offer a unique perspective on the topic. Will you see Newt to my office? We'll join you shortly."
Once she was gone, he lingered for a moment to allow his concerns to ease. When he turned, she was standing in the spot recently vacated by the matron, basking in the mild evening. "Hermione, welcome to the summer holiday at Hogwarts," he said. "How are you?"
Resisting the urge to take her shoes off in order to feel the luscious grass under her bare feet, she offered him a small smile. "Better. Steady."
"Perhaps we should have waited another week to give you more time to heal?" he asked, making no attempt to hide the concern from his face.
"I didn't quite stick the landing on that one," she joked, trying to ease the tension.
"Would you like to join a meeting with Newt regarding werewolf enrollment at Hogwarts?" he changed the subject but they both knew the topic would be revisited.
"Very much, yes. Is he already here?" perking up at the prospect.
Dumbledore crossed the courtyard in long strides. Reaching her, he motioned her toward the exit. "He should be in my office with Madam Pomfrey right now." He allowed Hermione to walk ahead of him, wanting to steady her if she needed the support. As they approached the door, they both heard a commotion on the other side. The sounds made Hermione smile even as Dumbledore moved swiftly.
They were greeted by pure, unadulterated chaos. A niffler clung to a shiny knob on a chest of drawers, the furniture for its part was valiantly fighting to secure its contents from the would be thief. Newt tried in vain to reach the mole-like creature but Shiloh was phasing in and out of time causing him to sidestep into a reading desk. The drawer finally opened, expanding across the length of the room, nearly missing Newt's head. Fawkes protested loudly when Pomfrey bumped into his stand trying to remove baby niffler from a necklace now entangled in both her hair and the greedy paws.
"Shiloh!" Hermione called as she quickly closed the latch of Scamander's case before another industrious niffler had the opportunity to escape. Shiloh appeared immediately at her side, still excited but out of the fray.
With some teamwork, Newt and Dumbledore wrestled the nifflers back in the case and some quick spellwork set the office right again. Breathing heavy Newt smiled, "That latch keeps breaking," he admitted sheepishly.
Hermione caught the glimpse of a bowtruckle duck back into his pocket and she suspected it was the culprit, not a broken latch. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she moved to help Newt stand, but Dumbledore beat her to it. He gave her a look of warning, reminding her of her still fragile state. Instead she embraced her friend in welcome. His gentle hug in return told her he was aware of her run in with Voldemort.
"How are you Hermione?" he asked, pulling back to look her over, concern plain in his eyes.
"I suppose I've been better, but I've also been worse," she said and allowed him to lead her to a sitting area where a steaming tea service and desserts were already prepared. Unconsciously, Newt steadied her with one hand on her arm and the other on her lower back.
Once everyone was settled she looked expectantly.
Dumbledore motioned to the refreshments and started. "We have a situation that must be addressed. Lyall Lupin's son is on the roll to attend Hogwarts in a few years, but what few know is that the young boy was recently infected with lycanthropy by a werewolf known as Fenrir Greyback."
Newt shifted uncomfortably. "If the ministry had listened to Lyall's warnings in the first place, Greyback would have been dealt with."
Newt and Hermione shared a look. She saw the guilt and knew he worried his writings contributed to the attack. Deciding she'd let him off the hook when they were alone, she offered a consoling look and sipped her tea.
"Nevertheless, we need to make arrangements now if we plan to allow his attendance. It goes without saying that the governors can't know about this, and we'll need to make every effort to ensure the safety of the other students during the full moon," Dumbledore continued. "Or maybe we're not ready to accommodate a student with his special needs?"
"Albus, we can't deny this boy a magical education just because his father crossed a werewolf. He's still a wizard," Newt reasoned. "As a student, Hermione, how would you feel knowing a classmate suffered from this ailment?"
She straightened. The wolfsbane potion wouldn't be invented until years after Remus graduated. In her time, though, a student with the ability to control themselves during the transformation would be little threat. Absent that solution, she understood the concern. "Honestly, I wouldn't want to know if someone cursed with lycanthropy was attending. If you can arrange for a containment area during the full moon and can help Remus from hurting himself or others you can't deny him an education. Who knows what contributions to the magical community he's capable of?"
Albus suspected that contribution was significant if Hermione knew his name, but chose not to call attention to her minor slip. "There is an abandoned house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade we could use. This would put some distance between the boy and the school. With some enchantments and modifications now, we could secure it from anyone entering."
Newt cleared his throat, "I think the tunnel system connecting the school to Hogsmeade is one of the school's worst kept secrets. We could tap into that system. It would need a convincing safeguard on this end."
"A whomping willow," Hermione said, unable to contain herself. She tried covering her outburst by sipping tea. "It would be an… effect deterrent," she finally said, rubbing a phantom scratch on her face.
Dumbledore smiled, "Perhaps you can be part of your history and help me plant it this week?"
At that she perked up. "I'd love to."
Madam Pomfrey nodded, "We'll keep him to a tight schedule and I'll escort him to the house personally. We can keep him from hurting others; however, I fear we won't be able to keep him from hurting himself."
"We'll need to make sure no one accidentally stumbles on him, especially a student," Newt continued.
Dumbledore nodded. "I can enchant the house to ensure no one can get in except through the designated tunnel, but it wouldn't hurt to have some additional defenses that won't appear to be magical in nature. In my experience, the quickest way to get a student to go where they shouldn't is to tell them they shouldn't," he added and gave a knowing look at Newt and then Hermione.
Both blushed with guilt.
"Perhaps a few of our school ghosts could lend a hand. Haunted houses still keep young witches and wizards away… I suspect?"
Hermione nodded in response. "I'd recommend the Bloody Baron and Peeves. They're a formidable team."
"I won't tell Sir Nicholas you said that," Albus said and watched Hermione's smile transform to a stifled yawn.
She saw the flash of concern play across the faces of all three adults. Wanting to go to bed and not wanting them to worry in her presence, she stood. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get some sleep and should probably go before saying too much and breaking the future." Waving off Dumbledore's motion to help her. "Newt, will you be here tomorrow? I'd love for you to have breakfast with me in the sanctuary."
"It's a date," he said, the smile lighting up his eyes.
~~/~~
Heat from a nonexistent sun warmed Hermione's face as she lay in the grass next to an idyllic lake. She searched the blue sky for a boundary and with wonder found no trace. It seemed as limitless as the real heavens. She supposed it could have been an enchanted ceiling like the Great Hall. If that was the case, it was more convincing magic.
Suddenly, Newt's head entered her field of view. She grinned broadly. "Hello old friend," she said, noting the wrinkles and the greying hair.
He sat down next to the picnic Gerty had prepared and looked up, trying to observe what Hermione had been so focused on. "Is there something up there?" he finally asked.
"You tell me," she turned her head to look at him. "No light source, but there's light. No apparent ceiling but somehow contained. Sunny even when cloudy outside, so not a reflection of reality."
"Well, not a reflection of this reality," he said cryptically and started digging into the food basket. Pulling out some pasties, he offered her one.
Sitting up, she started eating almost as an afterthought, considering his words. "Obviously there's an extension charm, but that just creates the void needed. I haven't been able to explore the sanctuary, I haven't found the boundaries. I wonder if I would find them if I looked?"
A sly smile curled the side of his mouth. "There are limits. They're not physical."
Her brows pinched together in concentration. Surveying the landscape the answer occurred to her. "Is this a memory?"
Beaming with pride he offered a curt nod. "One of my favorites. Worthy of being memorialized, don't you think?"
"So simple. It's genius," she said. "You've created a perpetual pensieve inside an extension charm?"
"Well not a pensieve per se, it only maintains one memory. That memory happens to be vivid enough to be perpetual," he acknowledged.
"Amazing," she thought aloud. The pair sat in companionable silence, sharing the secret of a space made for her. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Newt. Remus Lupin's condition is not your fault."
The sudden change in subject caught him off guard. He processed her words.
"He's a werewolf in my time, attacked by Fenrir Greyback. You're efforts to help werewolves didn't lead to the events that transpired here."
Relief washed over him as a burden he had carried for months left him. "Is that true?"
Nodding, she patted his knee. "You're a good soul Newt Scamander. Our actions will always have consequences, what matters are our intentions." He helped her stand and they shared another moment basking the in scene. "It is a lovely memory. Thank you for sharing it with me."
"What good is a memory if you don't share it with someone who will truly appreciate it?" he asked and turned toward the door. "You have a tree to plant, and I have some tunnels to dig. Shall we?"
The pair met Dumbledore in his library with supplies for the task ahead. "Newt, I've already prepared the defenses around the house. Perhaps you can go ahead and take care of the tunnel while we get the tree ready?"
Everyone of course knew the tree was ready. It sat calmly on a table next to the headmaster, barely six inches in height, secure in a small ceramic pot. Without objection, Newt headed out.
"That wasn't very subtle, Albus," Hermione stated flatly and turned to face him. Tilting his head the light highlighted the now entirely grey head of hair, called attention to the age lines around his eyes. She motioned to the threadbare, high-back chairs. The pair sat, and she fingered a flap of leather completely unraveled from the arm rest. "You could restore these, you know, with a repairing charm."
"I could, but they deserve to tell their story too, don't you think?" he told her, remembering the pristine state they had been in the day he met her. "There's a lot of history in these chairs."
"There is. Sometimes we hold on to the past because the future is uncertain," she observed. "Tell me what troubles you."
"So many things, Hermione. Today I worry about you and I worry about the horcruxes," he started. "I've made very little progress on the latter. I've tried to retrace his steps, collect memories that could help us put the pieces together. He covered his tracks well."
"He did," she agreed. "I think you'll find his arrogance leaves him open lapses you can exploit. That and you have a thirty year head start now." That last point did make her uncomfortable. Tom Riddle set the events in motion, it wasn't a choice either of them had made.
"Yes, and on that point, I fear the person I must become. This knowledge is the burden isn't it? One that will isolate me. Force me to take action in ways I won't be able to justify. It will be maddening to those that decide to still follow me into my madness."
"Yes," she said simply. "The good news is this was already your destiny." They shared a long, genuine laugh. "Albus, your path isn't easy. There are days you'll make decisions no one will understand. Until Voldemort is defeated, there is no greater threat to wizardkind or muggles alike. These sacrifices are necessary."
He nodded, "Then there's you. You leave my time and I'm forced to worry for years if I'll see you again. Wonder if you're safe. Think of some way I can make your travels safer. I'm powerless to help you."
"I wouldn't have made it this far without you," she corrected.
"Knowing how to help you when you're here is surprisingly the easy part of this situation. What I'm trying to say is that feeling powerless to help you when you're not here may have put you in more danger," he admitted.
"I don't understand."
He took in a small breath. "I fear I convinced you to change the size of your speed bubble because I couldn't sit by and do nothing. I spend the intervening years between your visits thinking of ways to save you. Instead it seems I made your journey more dangerous."
Finally Hermione understood. "You wanted to make the speed envelope bigger, I suggested the opposite. And I'd been trying to work out the same problem. If I lose consciousness in the bubble, the results could be catastrophic. We had to try to improve the process."
"Nevertheless, I fear we tampered with something we should not have. Perhaps you should return to your original calculations?"
"I can't say what caused my dizzy spell this time. There are just too many factors to consider. In the end, it could simply be that my body wasn't ready to make the jump. Or…" she paused, not wanting to voice a thought she'd been considering.
"Or what?" he asked with some sense of foreboding.
"It's possible no matter what I do, this is going to get harder. The physical toll this type of time travel has on the body is uncharted," she admitted.
Standing, he picked up the small potted tree and handed it to her. "As you say, perhaps we changed too many variables. Let's return to the original conditions and decide the best course of action in 1971."
"I'll go get the invisibility cloak if we're going outside."
"There's no need. As luck would have it, all faculty and staff are away on an outing that was arranged to thank them for their efforts in preparing for our next term. The timing was quite fortuitous, don't you think?" he asked conspiratorially.
Walking freely through the grounds of Hogwarts was liberating for Hermione. She felt the brace catch her several times, reminding her she wasn't fully recovered. In her hands she carried the miniature whomping willow as it flailed about now that it sensed the open air. Landing tiny punches to her fingers, she took a moment to study it. It was hard to believe such a tiny thing would wreak such havoc. She let out a gasp when a blow landed with surprising force as if in response to her doubts.
Protectively, Dumbledore took the pot from her, and smiled. "Feisty little thing."
A small hole was prepared on the ground in front of them. Next to it, the opening to the tunnel system was visible. Newt suddenly crawled out of the tunnel and brushed off some errant dirt. "The tunnel is ready and the enchantments around the house are solid," he announced. "The Bloody Baron and Peeves have really committed to their roles."
They watched Dumbledore plant the tree. Hermione aimed her druid vine wand at the spot and with a smooth, practice movement, silently cast the water-making charm. The stream of water soaked the freshly turned dirt. Stepping back, she considered the tiny tree. It was now impossible to believe it would be large enough to hide the tunnel in four years, let alone hide it from the intervening classes.
"Newt, would you like to do the honors?" Albus asked and motioned for Hermione to move several meters back.
"Engorio," Newt said from a safe distance on the other side. Instantly the tree swelled to nearly full size. He smiled and joined Dumbledore and Hermione. "The herbologist in Hogsmeade grows them in the forbidden forest. I shrunk one this morning before breakfast and borrowed it."
"We'll compensate Ms. Sapworthy for her contribution," Dumbledore said. "If you don't mind a final inspection of the tunnel to ensure it's intact?" he asked.
"Immobulus," Newt cast, and disappeared once again into the concealed tunnel.
~~/~~
When Friday finally arrived, Hermione was surprised how much better she felt. Her shoulder was still weak and the stabilizing brace may still be giving her magical assistance, but compared to her previous jump, she had confidence she was finally ready. The added anticipation of seeing Harry's parents, Remus, and Sirius sorted had her up early. It was a familiarity that invigorated her. Gathering everything she would need for the jump, she left her room and joined Dumbledore in his library.
"You're up early," she said.
He set his books aside and smiled. "I was about to say the same thing. I couldn't sleep."
Looking over his shoulder to see what he was working on she was shocked to see him reading one of the books from the restricted section. "Albus, that's not going to help you."
As the book closed a light dust was released from the pages. "I know, I just thought that perhaps it would help me understand Tom's mindset. Understand what objects he would think would be worthy vessels for fragments of his soul."
"You'll have more success keeping track of his movements and collecting memories than allowing such dark magic to occupy your thoughts," she said sympathetically.
"I know. You're right," he agreed, standing slowly. He let out a groan and then a small laugh. "Whenever you're here and I see you, I forget so many years have passed for me."
She saw time catching up to him. He looked more like her headmaster and less like her friend she'd come to know so well. Adjusting his beard that was now several inches long, "You're just growing into your wisdom." And with that she took a step back and took out her wand and time turner. "See you in a few minutes."
"I'll see you in 1971," he acknowledged and watched her disappear in a haze that resembled heat radiating from asphalt on a summer afternoon. Allowing the solitude to settle once again in his orbit, he took a deep breath. Time marched on he thought and headed for his office to prepare for the start of term.