I haven't reread PoA in a while so forgive me with inconsistencies. I'm looking this stuff up as I go along. I know if I reread for the purposes of writing I'll never finish writing lol. This is basically my quarantine project right now because I've been DYING to write a Fremione fic for like 5 years. PSA: I intend for it to build rather slowly/realistically because I feel like relationships are always rushed in fan fiction. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
Hermione's eyes burned with exhaustion as she shut her arithmancy textbook at the end of class. She loved learning, but she was starting to think Professor McGonagall had let her bite off more than she could chew. The weight of the time turner hung heavy around her neck as well as in her heart. The stress of classes alone was a lot to manage, but Harry and Ron kept giving her shifty looks and she couldn't explain anything to them. She felt almost as lonely as she had in their first year, before she became friends with the boys. At least now she had enough school work to keep her busy.
With that thought, she snapped back to reality. Most of her classmates had already cleared out, save for a few waiting to talk to Professor Vector. She carefully packed everything in her extremely heavy school bag and slung it over her shoulder. Slipping out of the classroom, she chuckled to herself, imagining herself with the build of a quidditch player by the end of the term.
Her eyes scanned the halls, watching all of the students meandering through the halls. At this point, anyone who had a class had already made their way there. The only ones left were the ones with a gap period. Hermione sucked in a breath as she adjusted her backpack strap and walked as casually as she could toward a broom closet that Filch had so kindly (after a stern word from Professor McGonagall) allowed her to use during her overlap periods.
She was almost to the door when she felt her book bag's strap pulling her backward. Taken aback, she stumbled and fell backward into a pair of freckled arms. "Easy does it, Granger," sang Fred Weasley as he helped her back to her feet.
Hermione spun around on her heels, face as red as the hair of the two twins who stood together looking smug. "Now, now," George tutted, wagging his finger in her face. She had to fight the urge to bite it off. "No need to look so cross. We just wanted a little chat."
"A chat?" Hermione asked through gritted teeth. "You could have used your words like civilized folks rather than pulling that stunt of yours. Besides, I can't talk. Unfortunately, I have places to be. Classes to attend."
Fred and George both raised a brow at that. Before they could say anything else, she turned her back on them and started walking further down the hall. Now that her cover was blown, she needed to find a new location to use her time turner. But as she walked, she heard one of the boys call out to her. "That's actually exactly what we wanted to talk about, Granger. Where's-"
She turned back to them with a smile and said, "Sorry, I really have to be going now. I have to use the loo before my next class."
As she slipped through the door, one called out "But you were just in there!"
She breathed a sigh of relief as she escaped the twins. They were... a lot to handle. As she stood in the bathroom stall, she turned her time turner once. Her stomach lurched as she felt as though she was being pulled backwards. Blurs came in and out of the restroom as the previous hour played back in reverse before her very eyes. Though she was standing in one place, she couldn't help but feel motion sick.
As suddenly as it started, the feeling stopped. Hermione peeked through the door. Seeing no one, she tucked the time turner back into her shirt and walked out of the toilets, heading to Care of Magical Creatures. She made sure to take the side exit in order to avoid her past self.
The lesson came and went. Hagrid, as usual, showed off creatures that she was sure were not part of the curriculum. But she kept her thoughts to herself, supporting Hagrid alongside Harry and Ron. Besides, the fire dwelling salamanders were rather cute. She was far too tired to be trusted with anything quite as dangerous as them, so she let her classmates search around and gather wood to stoke the fire. Besides, the bitter wind of an approaching winter was enough to keep her from leaving the firepit for too long.
After the class period ended, Hermione followed Harry and Ron up to the Divination classroom. She kept stifling her yawns as they talked about some sort of Quidditch nonsense she couldn't be bothered to understand. She had to psych herself up for Divination, which was probably her worst subject. As they climbed the stairs to the tower, the boys shifted their topic of conversation to the class ahead.
"D'you think Trelawney is gonna spew some more nonsense about you, Harry?" Ron asked with a laugh. "I see a goose in your teacup. You shall have the worst case of diarrhea you have ever experienced! Avoid the pumpkin juice at all costs!"
Harry burst into laughter while Hermione swatted Ron with the textbook she had been carrying. "You're disgusting," she hissed, stepping past the two of them.
"What?" Ron asked, easily matching her pace with his long legs. "It's only a joke. She says that kind of thing every class."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "The scent of the classroom alone is enough to make me nauseous. Your talk of diarrhea is not going to help."
With that, they reached the classroom and opened the door to the smell of burning incense. Hermione about gagged as they stepped into the room, making her way as close to the window as she could. She cracked it open before sitting down, next to the two boys. "I honestly can't understand why Professor Dumbledore would let such nonsense be taught at this school," she muttered, mostly to herself, as she pulled out her homework to submit.
"I mean, some people do really well in this class," Harry noted, gesturing to Lavender and Parvati, who were giggling over their birth charts. "Different strokes for different folks, you know what I mean?"
Hermione shook her head, slamming her fist on the table. "This is such a poor excuse for magic! It's like..." Her eyes scanned the table as she tried to come up with a comparison.
Ron gripped her forearm. "Oi, calm down," he hissed. "It's just an elective. No need to take it too seriously."
"But, I can't just not take it seriously." Hermione shook her head. "It's still school work. I just don't believe in it is all."
Ron groaned, resigning to leaning back in his chair as he looked to Harry. "She's gone mad. Absolutely bonkers."
"Hermione, I think you've taken on far too much," Harry said sympathetically. "The stress is really getting to you."
"I'm fine."
Ron turned back to her. "Hermione-"
"I'm fine!" she snapped. Before either of the boys could say anything, Professor Trelawney waltzed in to begin the class. This was the first time Hermione was relieved to see the crazy woman start the class.
After what felt like eons, Hermione hurriedly stuffed her belongings in her bag and flung it over her shoulder. She rushed downstairs before Harry or Ron could follow and ran into the nearest toilet she could find. She closed the stall door and twisted her time turner once. Hermione winced as her stomach lurched and the colors of the room shifted from the reversing light. Once the sensation stopped, she sighed and stepped out of the bathroom.
She walked down the hall toward the Muggle Studies classroom, revising the information in her head. While everyone made fun of a muggleborn taking Muggle Studies, it was absolutely fascinating to see muggles from the perspective of witches and wizards. However, as she reached the end of the hall, her train of thought was interrupted as she saw Fred and George Weasley standing directly in her path.