A/N: wow. I mean, I just posted, what? Four, five chapters in a row? I
betchya this one'll be posted tonight, too. ^_^ I'm in a better mood now
'coz my weekend wasn't filled wit boring, tears, and hurt feelings! It was
just filled with hurt feelings! Now. This chapter has answers to my own
questions... I mean, I'm all asking myself how this happened, so I came up
with answers. -_-0 forgive my far-fetchedness.
.
.
.
"Hey - hey, girl! Girl, hello! Wake up! Hey!"
Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and stared hard at the face above hers, trying to make out who it was. A pair of oval green eyes lit up when Hermione acknowledged her with a yawn.
"Hullo! My name's Lily Evens, it's nice to meet ya, who are you? I've never seen you before, you walked in on my bedroom by accident once, does that mean you're in a different year? Ya, you look younger, are you in fourth? I think you are, you know, say, I just came down here and saw you, and you look awful, you look like you've been crying, you know? By the way, what's your name? I haven't seen you around here, you know, have you been keeping a low profile? Are you okay? I woke you up 'coz, you know, breakfast has started, you know? By the way, what's your name?"
Hermione wasn't really listening. She was more focused on Lily's green eyes. She knew those eyes... Oh, God. Great. She'd met and now knew both of Harry's parents. What would you think, now?
"I'm fine," she said distractedly, sitting up and wincing slightly when a few cracks were heard. She brought a hand up to her face. "I must have fallen asleep down here, I got in so late. Thanks for waking me up."
"Ya, no problem. What's your name, you know? I deserve to know!" Lily must have been a morning person. Hermione squinted at her. Bright, chirpy...
"Are you drunk?"
"What?" for once Lily didn't go on and on or say 'you know'. There was an uproar of laughter, and Hermione's face went red, and she whipped around, feeling her stomach drop. The common room was pretty full.
"She's always like that," a boy Hermione had never seen before called.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Mrs - erm, Miss, ah, Lily." Why did she feel so bad about calling her by her first name?
Because she's her best friend's and crush's mother...
"I'll go, now," Hermione blurted, jumping to her feet. She practically ran to the portrait hole, then tore down the hallways, finally stopping at a girls bathroom. After raking her finger through her hair, which had lost some of its fluff from not being brushed, and washing her face, Hermione felt brave enough to go down and grab a piece of toast. Trying to avoid eyes and questions, she slipped off with her toast, and realizing she couldn't eat it in the library, stuffed it in a pocket to hide it.
The librarian helped her find quite an armload of books on how the school was built, magic mysteries of the school, and such likes like that. happy with her escape from the school, Hermione carried these precariously outside to the tree that she, Ron, and Harry often stayed under, dumped the books (carefully), grabbed her toast, a random book, and began to read and munch.
It was still a bit early in the morning, her watch said around eight or nine. But after she had stared hard at it for a while and realized it wasn't ticking, she decided not to go by it.
A light mist floated quietly around, and dew clung to the grass and Hermione's hair, thus making it heavier. It wasn't really cold, so she didn't worry much about that.
By the time she had gone through all of the books, there was the sound of kids shouting, talking laughing, splashing, playing or relaxing in general, the sun was up and warm, and Hermione knew that, under certain circumstances, it was possible to time travel.
Like, she discovered, if a muggle, for example, were to fall between the time lines, the one they were in would just stretch down with them, and eventually come to a breaking point, and throw them back up. As a witch or wizard, one would have to be in a certain position, and have certain qualities. They'd also have to be strong, to survive the aftermath. She didn't know what the aftermath would be.
Also, she found out upon further inspection in the library, if she were to see herself as a baby, or even as a glob of cells multiplying, then one of them (the weaker one) would die, because it was impossible for two souls the exact same to live at the same time.
Hermione wondered how many people had been reported missing, when in fact they had traveled back in time and just killed themselves. She tried to imagine somebody like Ron was actually from the future, and it made enough sense that way around.
Then, there was always the fact that she might not survive to be around when she herself was born. Because Time knew that she didn't belong in such and such timeline, and it would try to push her back into her original timeline. Since that was physically impossible, it'd slowly kill her. How? Either she would literally be crushed to death, or she'd fade.
Or which of the two Hermione guessed. But she wasn't worried about those, because there were time travelers other than her, she was certain, what with time-turners. That was why, she soon figured out, time-turners only worked for hours. Relieving a day would make her physically older, and then she'd have a fairly higher age than anybody else... like if she were to go back a day on her birthday, then what would be her birthday in the new timeline, she'd already be a day older.
Therefore, Time wouldn't realize she wasn't where she belonged for a few years, at least, because with each turn of a time-turner, Time was exercised and stretched, and it was wounded in a manner. Thus, it ignored anything moving faster than it, and because Hermione was so far back, it was currently ignoring her.
There were only two things that Hermione was worried about, she decided on her way down to dinner that night.
The first, how she would get back.
The second, the aftermath of traveling. She didn't suppose it would be more than a headache or stomach, because those were the aftermath affects of her using the time-turner. That and light insomnia while being extremely tired. So those latter two clashed neatly together. No, what worried her was that since she'd gone so much farther back, the aftermath symptoms might be magnified. She certainly didn't want to imagine anything like that... it could get pretty ugly...
And since there was nothing to make her extremely tired, that was, she wasn't taking about a million classes, insomnia might be a bad thing. Even light insomnia.
She wouldn't know for a few days. The aftermath symptoms wouldn't show up for another day or so. Maybe she wouldn't have any at all.
It still worried her.
So, once in the loud great hall, she slipped as unnoticeably as she could to the teachers' table and professor Dumbledore.
"Can I speak to you?" she whispered to him.
"What about?" he asked, "specifically."
"You already know my concerns for going back," she dropped her whisper dramatically, "But what I'm worried about is the aftermath affects."
"Ah. You need not worry about that Miss Granger, I do not think they'll be any more worse to live with, and I've alerted Madame Pomfrey to the fact, though, just in case. If you feel you need anything for any symptoms, go to her." He beamed. "And all of your teachers know you as an exchange student here under cover, to see how the school is faring. To grade their performances, so to speak. You are Gryffindor? Best go eat!"
Feeling a little better, Hermione nodded, and said softly, "Thank you, professor, for everything."
"Oh, we'll get you home soon enough."
It wasn't until she had found an empty seat at the end of the table did Hermione think to ask him about what he had found about time traveling through the school. She figured it would have been the same as hers, but what if it wasn't?
Shrugging this off, she reminded herself that she had classes in the morning, and forced herself to load her plate, head down. It was easy enough to eat her fill, and she dawdled in the bathroom until she figured the common room might be empty.
It was, and again she chose her spot on the squishy chair in front of the glowing embers of the fire, and managed to fall asleep.
.
.
.
"Hey - hey, girl! Girl, hello! Wake up! Hey!"
Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and stared hard at the face above hers, trying to make out who it was. A pair of oval green eyes lit up when Hermione acknowledged her with a yawn.
"Hullo! My name's Lily Evens, it's nice to meet ya, who are you? I've never seen you before, you walked in on my bedroom by accident once, does that mean you're in a different year? Ya, you look younger, are you in fourth? I think you are, you know, say, I just came down here and saw you, and you look awful, you look like you've been crying, you know? By the way, what's your name? I haven't seen you around here, you know, have you been keeping a low profile? Are you okay? I woke you up 'coz, you know, breakfast has started, you know? By the way, what's your name?"
Hermione wasn't really listening. She was more focused on Lily's green eyes. She knew those eyes... Oh, God. Great. She'd met and now knew both of Harry's parents. What would you think, now?
"I'm fine," she said distractedly, sitting up and wincing slightly when a few cracks were heard. She brought a hand up to her face. "I must have fallen asleep down here, I got in so late. Thanks for waking me up."
"Ya, no problem. What's your name, you know? I deserve to know!" Lily must have been a morning person. Hermione squinted at her. Bright, chirpy...
"Are you drunk?"
"What?" for once Lily didn't go on and on or say 'you know'. There was an uproar of laughter, and Hermione's face went red, and she whipped around, feeling her stomach drop. The common room was pretty full.
"She's always like that," a boy Hermione had never seen before called.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Mrs - erm, Miss, ah, Lily." Why did she feel so bad about calling her by her first name?
Because she's her best friend's and crush's mother...
"I'll go, now," Hermione blurted, jumping to her feet. She practically ran to the portrait hole, then tore down the hallways, finally stopping at a girls bathroom. After raking her finger through her hair, which had lost some of its fluff from not being brushed, and washing her face, Hermione felt brave enough to go down and grab a piece of toast. Trying to avoid eyes and questions, she slipped off with her toast, and realizing she couldn't eat it in the library, stuffed it in a pocket to hide it.
The librarian helped her find quite an armload of books on how the school was built, magic mysteries of the school, and such likes like that. happy with her escape from the school, Hermione carried these precariously outside to the tree that she, Ron, and Harry often stayed under, dumped the books (carefully), grabbed her toast, a random book, and began to read and munch.
It was still a bit early in the morning, her watch said around eight or nine. But after she had stared hard at it for a while and realized it wasn't ticking, she decided not to go by it.
A light mist floated quietly around, and dew clung to the grass and Hermione's hair, thus making it heavier. It wasn't really cold, so she didn't worry much about that.
By the time she had gone through all of the books, there was the sound of kids shouting, talking laughing, splashing, playing or relaxing in general, the sun was up and warm, and Hermione knew that, under certain circumstances, it was possible to time travel.
Like, she discovered, if a muggle, for example, were to fall between the time lines, the one they were in would just stretch down with them, and eventually come to a breaking point, and throw them back up. As a witch or wizard, one would have to be in a certain position, and have certain qualities. They'd also have to be strong, to survive the aftermath. She didn't know what the aftermath would be.
Also, she found out upon further inspection in the library, if she were to see herself as a baby, or even as a glob of cells multiplying, then one of them (the weaker one) would die, because it was impossible for two souls the exact same to live at the same time.
Hermione wondered how many people had been reported missing, when in fact they had traveled back in time and just killed themselves. She tried to imagine somebody like Ron was actually from the future, and it made enough sense that way around.
Then, there was always the fact that she might not survive to be around when she herself was born. Because Time knew that she didn't belong in such and such timeline, and it would try to push her back into her original timeline. Since that was physically impossible, it'd slowly kill her. How? Either she would literally be crushed to death, or she'd fade.
Or which of the two Hermione guessed. But she wasn't worried about those, because there were time travelers other than her, she was certain, what with time-turners. That was why, she soon figured out, time-turners only worked for hours. Relieving a day would make her physically older, and then she'd have a fairly higher age than anybody else... like if she were to go back a day on her birthday, then what would be her birthday in the new timeline, she'd already be a day older.
Therefore, Time wouldn't realize she wasn't where she belonged for a few years, at least, because with each turn of a time-turner, Time was exercised and stretched, and it was wounded in a manner. Thus, it ignored anything moving faster than it, and because Hermione was so far back, it was currently ignoring her.
There were only two things that Hermione was worried about, she decided on her way down to dinner that night.
The first, how she would get back.
The second, the aftermath of traveling. She didn't suppose it would be more than a headache or stomach, because those were the aftermath affects of her using the time-turner. That and light insomnia while being extremely tired. So those latter two clashed neatly together. No, what worried her was that since she'd gone so much farther back, the aftermath symptoms might be magnified. She certainly didn't want to imagine anything like that... it could get pretty ugly...
And since there was nothing to make her extremely tired, that was, she wasn't taking about a million classes, insomnia might be a bad thing. Even light insomnia.
She wouldn't know for a few days. The aftermath symptoms wouldn't show up for another day or so. Maybe she wouldn't have any at all.
It still worried her.
So, once in the loud great hall, she slipped as unnoticeably as she could to the teachers' table and professor Dumbledore.
"Can I speak to you?" she whispered to him.
"What about?" he asked, "specifically."
"You already know my concerns for going back," she dropped her whisper dramatically, "But what I'm worried about is the aftermath affects."
"Ah. You need not worry about that Miss Granger, I do not think they'll be any more worse to live with, and I've alerted Madame Pomfrey to the fact, though, just in case. If you feel you need anything for any symptoms, go to her." He beamed. "And all of your teachers know you as an exchange student here under cover, to see how the school is faring. To grade their performances, so to speak. You are Gryffindor? Best go eat!"
Feeling a little better, Hermione nodded, and said softly, "Thank you, professor, for everything."
"Oh, we'll get you home soon enough."
It wasn't until she had found an empty seat at the end of the table did Hermione think to ask him about what he had found about time traveling through the school. She figured it would have been the same as hers, but what if it wasn't?
Shrugging this off, she reminded herself that she had classes in the morning, and forced herself to load her plate, head down. It was easy enough to eat her fill, and she dawdled in the bathroom until she figured the common room might be empty.
It was, and again she chose her spot on the squishy chair in front of the glowing embers of the fire, and managed to fall asleep.