Chapter 67: Loose Ends
"Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall acknowledged when I appeared at her office door the next day. Harry, Ron, and I had been discharged from the hospital wing that morning and as soon as I'd had the opportunity, I'd slipped away to come here.
"I came to return the time turner," I said, pulling it out and over my head.
"You're late," Professor McGonagall observed. "Why didn't you come see me last night?"
"Well you see Professor, as I'm sure you heard, I was rather busy last night and then I was in the hospital wing," I explained.
"What I meant to say was why didn't you bring it to me immediately after your last exam as we had discussed?" Professor McGonagall said, raising her head to meet my eyes for the first time since I'd arrived.
"I'm sorry," I said, bowing my head. "I should have come straight away." I knew there was no use giving excuses, because in reality there was no excuse, even if it had turned out that I'd needed it last night.
Professor McGonagall studied me for a moment. "Very well, I shall take the time turner now," she said, holding out her hand for it.
Slowly, I reached my own hand out towards hers and placed the time turner in it. She reached to open a drawer to put it in and I looked away, knowing that it would be best if I didn't know which drawer she'd put it in.
"Now Ms. Granger, there is one more matter we need to discuss," Professor McGonagall told me. "Which is the matter of your schedule."
I knew this was coming, but I still didn't know which class I would be able to drop. They were all so important.
"Professor, could I wait to make my decision until I get my exam results?" I asked.
"That sounds perfectly reasonable," Professor McGonagall told me. "I'll see you then."
After leaving Professor McGonagall's office, I went in search of Ron, since Harry had gone to talk to Professor Lupin one last time while he had the chance. He was in the common room, which was rather empty due to the fact that it was a Hogsmeade weekend. He asked if I wanted to play chess, and I agreed. It was nice to do something familiar.
"Oh," Sally-Anne commented later that evening when she and Lily returned from their trip to the village. "You're back."
"Had I gone somewhere?" I frowned, looking up from my packing. We would be leaving Hogwarts soon and there was much to do before that happened.
Sally-Anne shrugged. "Well you've barely spent any time in the dorm this year and we heard you were in the hospital wing last night," she responded. "Whatever, I didn't mean anything by it."
Except that she did. I sighed as I got back to work, thinking about things. When Harry, Ron, and I had been on the outs this year, I'd had no other friends to fall back on. I'd spent some time with Neville, but that had mostly been meals and had been a result of him usually sitting alone anyway.
The blame lay partially with me. I'd gone out of my way to alienate my dormmates. I'd intentionally made myself separate because I didn't want to go through what I'd gone through in first year with them again. If I'd ever made a real effort to make friends, things might have been different. But that boat had long since sailed and it was time that I get over it and stop being disappointed every time my dormmates made comments like that.
As for Crookshanks, I'd decided to forgive him for any suspicious activities he'd been up to that year. While I was still uncomfortable with the idea that my cat had been wandering the grounds to the degree that he was without my supervision, he'd done the right thing in the end. He'd seen through the lies surrounding Black and Pettigrew and had discovered the truth long before any of the rest of us had, and even Ron admitted after the fact that he couldn't stay mad at Crookshanks for his targeting of Scabbers all year.
"I still can't believe he wasn't a real rat," Ron muttered to himself one afternoon. "I mean, he'd been in my family for twelve years and we never noticed anything strange about him. He slept in my bed. He slept in Percy's bed before mine. I fed him, I groomed him, cleaned up after him – "
"You can hardly blame yourself," I assured him. None of us had noticed anything amiss. "Just try not to think to hard about it."
But I could tell it weighed on Ron. Scabbers had been a big part of his life and he'd discovered it had all been a lie. The betrayal had to be difficult.
Though not nearly as difficult as what Harry was going through. He was very quiet over the last few days of term, and Ron and I attempted to stay out of his way as much as possible. Not that we left him alone, but we didn't bother him too much. He had a lot to process and we both knew that it didn't come close to what we were processing ourselves.
We went down to visit Hagrid on one of the days. He was grateful for the visit, but not knowing anything about what had happened that night made it difficult to talk to him without revealing anything.
"I'm glad yeh lot are alright," he said immediately upon seeing us. "I feel bad. If I hadn't told yeh about Beaky's execution, yeh never would have left the castle that night, an' yeh wouldn' 'ave gotten caught up in it all."
"I was always going to get caught up in it all," Harry assuaged Hagrid's guilt. "Don't worry, you're not to blame."
"Besides, it was our decision to leave the castle," I pointed out. "You didn't ask us to do that."
Hagrid nodded in agreement, my comment seemingly setting him more at ease.
"Can' believe that murderer got so close to yeh," Hagrid said then. "It was a close call. Good thing Professor Snape intervened."
"Yeah," Harry said in a slightly deadened voice. "Good thing."
If Hagrid noticed anything amiss about the tone, he politely ignored it.
"Did yeh hear abou' Beaky?" he asked, turning to Ron and I while Harry stared off into space. "He escaped! Don' know how. He must'a realized what was going the happen, smart boy."
"That's wonderful news," I said, pretending to be surprised.
Hagrid smiled widely. "I'll miss 'im, but it's good to know that he's safe an' free."
Watching our friend tear up just a bit in a bittersweet yet happy way, I felt glad to know that I'd helped create this moment. We'd been the ones to free Buckbeak after all. Though if Hagrid knew who Buckbeak was with right now, I doubted he'd be all that impressed.
Exam results came out on the last day of term. I was hesitant to open them, worried that I'd failed everything because I'd tried to do too much this year. Finally, Ron got irritated, grabbed the envelope from me, and tore it open.
"See Hermione?" he said, handing it back. "Perfect scores in almost everything," he rolled his eyes and went back to attacking his lunch.
I looked down at the results in my hand and saw that he was right. I had decent results after all. I'd gotten one hundred percent in a few classes, high nineties in most of my other classes and a three hundred and twelve percent in Muggle Studies. The only disappointment was Defence against the Dark Arts, where I got an eighty percent. I supposed running out of the trunk that had housed the boggart whilst screaming certainly warranted a loss of twenty percent. A peek at Harry's paper told me that defence was the only class he'd gotten one hundred percent in and I was momentarily jealous.
I wondered vaguely what defence against the dark arts would be like next year. With Professor Lupin gone, the school would have to hire a new professor. I could only hope they didn't hire another lunatic like they did last year, because in all honesty, I learnt almost nothing in Professor Lockhart's class.
Now that I had my results though, I had a big decision to make. I delayed as long as I could, but I knew I couldn't delay forever. So, the next morning, I got up early and went to see Professor McGonagall.
"Ah, Ms. Granger," she said when I arrived. "I was beginning to wonder."
"I've decided to drop muggle studies," I announced without preamble.
"Really?" she asked. "That's your best subject," she said upon consulting my exam results on her desk. "I would have thought you'd drop ancient runes or arithmancy."
"I considered that," I admitted. "But I'm not learning anything in muggle studies. I lived as a Muggle for eleven years."
"Well I must say, I'm impressed," Professor McGonagall said, looking up at me from her desk. "Though I'm sure Professor Burbage will be disappointed to lose her best student."
I nodded, feeling the prickle of tears behind my eyes. If it was my decision, I wouldn't drop anything and I would keep the time turner next year. Unfortunately, it wasn't my decision, so I said nothing and nodded instead, not trusting my voice.
I turned and left, but there was still one more stop I needed to make. The muggle studies classroom was on the third floor, and sure enough, Professor Burbage was in her office doing paperwork.
"Professor?" I said tentatively, knocking on the doorframe. "May I speak with you a moment?"
"Of course, come in," Professor Burbage insisted.
This conversation would be even harder than the earlier one with Professor McGonagall. At least Professor McGonagall had been expecting the news.
"I assume you're not here to discuss you grade like all the rest," Professor Burbage said jokingly. "You outperformed every third year that's ever taken my class."
"Thank you," I said, accepting the praise. It was part of why this was so difficult. I liked being the best. I liked feeling superior. Muggle studies was a great ego boost for me. I would miss it a great deal.
"So what's this about?" Professor Burbage asked, seeing my expression and sensing that it wasn't a casual visit.
I sucked in a breath and decided to just do it quickly, like ripping off a band aid.
"I have to drop your class," I informed her.
Her face filled with shock, then confusion, and then settled on disappointment.
"I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "You were a pleasure to teach."
"I wish I didn't have to but… well I assume you're aware of my situation?" I asked. Professor Burbage nodded. "Right," I muttered. "Well I can't keep doing that for another four years. Something had to go."
"You could have broken the record for highest grades in muggle studies," Professor Burbage said.
I knew what she was doing. She wanted me to stay in her class and she was playing on my love of being the best. But I'd thought this through and I knew what I was doing was the right decision.
"I'm sorry," I said genuinely.
Professor Burbage was such a nice woman. She was one of the nicest professors at Hogwarts, always cheery and filled with enthusiasm. I hated to do this to her, especially since I could see how much she'd enjoyed having me in her class, but I didn't have a choice. I couldn't keep the time turner. Professor McGonagall had made that clear.
"Feel free to stop by anytime," Professor Burbage said as I stood to leave. "My door is always open."
"Thanks," I said, forcing myself to smile. At least it was over now. There was no going back, no more agonizing over the decision. I'd done what needed doing and it was time to move forward.
When the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross station, we stood up reluctantly and made our way off the train with our things. I'd been dreading this moment. I hadn't seen my parents in almost a year and now we had to spend two months together.
"Hermione, honey, there you are!" I heard my dad say when I'd gotten close enough for them to see me. "I've been waiting for ages."
"Sorry," I muttered apologetically. I'd taken a quick detour before finding him to say hello to Ron's parents.
"How was your year?" Dad asked, almost mechanically as he led me towards the barrier. Mum was nowhere to be seen.
"It was really good," I said. "They even gave me a time turner this year so I could take more classes than fit into my timetable." I'd hoped maybe I could spark some kind of a conversation, even just prod Dad into asking what a time turner was.
"That's nice sweetheart," Dad said instead, looking away. "The car's over there." Then he changed the subject.
I felt my heart sink. It seemed nothing had changed. He still didn't want to hear anything about magic or really anything in my life. Dad had only asked to be polite.
As we walked towards the car, I started thinking about the herbology essay I would have to write this summer. Best to distract myself from the awkward silence of the ride home.
