Hermione woke very early Sunday morning. She wasn't sure what they might be doing; neither Roxy nor Dave had given her a clue. Assuming they'd be going outside at some point, she dressed warmly, though she did pick her favorite moss green jumper which wasn't exactly as cozy as it was fashionable. But Roxy had said that it brought out the little green flecks in her eyes. She braided her hair into a messy plait; somehow making it look intentional as opposed to what it was - a mistake - because she had to do all this in the privacy of her four-poster with the curtains drawn. It also didn't help that she was very nervous.
This would be the last time she'd see her friends in a very long time. It also didn't help that there would be special guests, which Hermione took to mean that she'd finally be meeting some of the people she'd only ever heard about second hand. She wanted so badly to make a good impression. If Dave were here, he would have told her that she didn't need to be worried. All their friends were "super chill" or at least most of them were, according to him. But having often made very bad first impressions, Hermione was determined to, for once, not make a fool of herself.
As she was tying her boots one of her roommates stirred in the bed just across from her own. The curtains parted and Parvati's head swam out of the gloom. Blinking owlishly, she stared at Hermione as if she'd never seen her before in her life.
"H'mione?" asked Parvati blearily, her eyes half closed. "Izzat you?"
Shoving her left foot into her boot, she looked up and smiled kindly. "Yes, go back to sleep."
Parvati sat up a little, leaning forward on her arm. "Why're you up so early? It's Sunday."
"Going for a walk," lied Hermione, though she supposed it wasn't entirely untrue.
Her roommate's face scrunched up in confusion. "Wha time izzit?"
"Eight-thirty," Hermione replied quietly.
Parvati head cocked curiously as if she were working out a particularly difficult equation. She gave Hermione a look of utter exasperation. "You're going on a walk at half eight in the morning... on a Sunday?"
"Yes, I am," replied Hermione, a little laugh in her voice as she firmly knotted the laces of both boots. "Walking is good for you."
"You're mental," Parvati commented with a small smile. She then shuttered her drapes and went back to bed.
As Hermione opened the door that led to the common room, she heard a muffled, "have a nice walk," come from the direction of Parvati's bed. She whispered a thank you and left the room happily, her heart weighted a bit but still light. Again she had expected one of her roommates to be her biggest obstacle and again she was wrong. For as she entered the common room, she was greeted with a very unwanted sight - Harry was there, reclining on a squashy armchair near the door. Some good luck prevailed, though. He was asleep quite soundly with one hand curled under his chin, glasses askew. She knew he was a light sleeper, but she felt as if sneaking by him wouldn't be that much of a chore.
How wrong she was.
Inhaling slowly, she turned to close the door, grimacing when it let out a slow squeak. She stopped abruptly, glancing over her shoulder. Still asleep. Heart thundering in her chest, she closed it more slowly. She glanced back again, he'd snorted a bit and then went quiet - still asleep. Letting out a shaky sigh as the lock clicked close, she pressed her forehead and hands against the smooth wood of the door. Just as she turned around, happy that she'd been so successful thus far, she saw movement from the corner of her eye. Turning around sharply, she noticed that he'd sat up, wiping his eyes before replacing his glasses. Both of them froze, staring at each other, feeling that there was more separating them than a small room. It felt more like a thousand miles.
Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she took a very deep breath and marched forward, studiously averting her eyes as if she didn't even notice he was there. As evidence of this, she fervently pretended she didn't notice the way he scowled at her. She refused to be upset by him or Ron. Not today, at least. Head held high, she walked past him. She heard a scuffling sound just then and all of a sudden he was standing in front of her, blocking her way. Hermione started, surprised for only a moment before her brows furrowed. She tried to side step him, but he blocked her. Frustrated, she tried again and again he blocked her.
"Could you please move, I'd like to get by, if you don't mind," she demanded, clearly aggravated.
She could see him thinking, his eyes darting back and forth wildly. "I... I needed to talk to you."
Eyes narrowed, Hermione stepped back as she crossed her arms very slowly. "Did you? Whatever for?" He licked his lips, eyes darting again as he tried to come up with something, anything to tell her. She lifted an eyebrow imperiously. "Well, get on with it. I haven't got all day, you know."
"I saw you," he blurted out, wincing as whatever he intended to say hadn't come to him in time.
Rolling her eyes, she sighed. "Good for you. Is that all?"
"Yes - I mean, no! I mean," he stammered, closing his eyes for a second to collect himself. "A few nights ago when I was coming back, I saw you on the stairs. It's just..." Harry ran his hand through his hair, unable to figure out a way to ask her about what he saw; the words didn't want to come.
"You want to know if I was on the stairs? Yes, I was. I have been on the stairs several times during our stay here and will likely be on the stairs several more times. Is there anything else?" She enunciated that last question with a slow, irritated tone.
"I saw you with two people. Two people wearing Gryffindor robes that I didn't recognize!" She opened her mouth and he knew what her objection would be. "I know what you're going to say, but I would have noticed them... their hair, you see. Who are they?"
All the blood left her face, it took everything in her not to fall apart right then and there. She knew he saw how she reacted. But there was no way he'd wrest the truth from her. Instead, she used her own indignation as her sole ally. "Were you spying on me?"
"That doesn't matter!" he shot back, taking a single step closer to her.
"Yes, it actually does," she snarled dangerously, stepping right up to him so that they were almost nose to nose. "Who I associate with and who I choose to spend my time with, regardless of whether or not you recognize them, is none of your business, Harry Potter. Now let me pass."
"No," he growled, bright green eyes alight with fury. Why wouldn't she listen to reason? "You're meeting them today and I want to know who they are and why they're here. I don't care what you say, they're not Hogwarts students - I have a right to know who they really are."
On the outside, she somehow managed to maintain a cool exterior but on the inside she was panicking. He had seen them? How? She could only conclude it was because Roxy had not known he was there. If she'd thought the corridor was deserted, she wouldn't use her power, allowing Harry to see them. His request was reasonable, under the circumstances. But she didn't have time to explain any of it. Moreover, she didn't have the inclination right now.
Eyes flashing, she fumed, "So let me get this straight. You spy on me. Overhear a private conversation with my friends, because I do happen to have them outside of you, by the way... and then you have the gall to demand explanations from me simply because YOU don't recognize them? Did I cover all your major points? Or is there more evidence you'd like to add?!"
Put that way, Harry's concerns did seem very small. He cast around for something, anything to prove his point - to make her see that there was something very wrong going on. "They... they could be working for Sirius Black!"
The statement hung in the air like a lead balloon. Hermione's eyes widened and she stepped away from Harry, looking at him as if seeing him truly for the first time. She let out a harsh, ugly laugh. In fact, she couldn't stop laughing, until real tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Harry did not see the humor in the situation.
"I hardly think that's funny."
Wiping her eyes, she shook her head. "No, it really is. It's very funny, actually."
"What do you mean by that?!" He got the sense that she wasn't necessarily talking about their current conversation.
"Oh, figure it out yourself, Harry," replied Hermione tiredly, as she pushed past him, ramming her shoulder into his as hard as she could.
Never in her whole life had she been so furious. She stormed out of Gryffindor Tower, wrenching the door open and violently slamming it shut, ignoring the portrait's indignant objections at being handled so roughly. There was a small, mean part of her that hoped he followed. Because she had thought up several more things to say to him on the way to the Astronomy Tower, not to mention the great urge to sock him right in his stupid, thoughtless face.
"How dare he," she hissed angrily as she took the stairs two at a time. "Of all the things he could have said... working for Sirius Black, honestly... he has a lot of nerve!"
"Who has the nerve to say what?" asked a cheery voice.
Shaking herself, she realized that she had reached the Astronomy Tower - only it was completely deserted as it looked. She twirled around, swiveling her head trying to find where the voice came from. The voice kept giving her "helpful" hints, hollering warmer or colder as she stumbled around the tower. Was she going mad or was it a particularly mischievous ghost? She must have said it out loud, because the voice laughed, it was a very airy sound.
A wind whipped through the tower suddenly, it was fierce and localized to the area where Hermione stood. It was so strong that she stumbled back a few paces, protecting her face with her arms. The wind died down as quickly as it came. Hermione opened her eyes cautiously to find a young man standing just in front of her. He was very tall (taller than Dave, in fact) and lanky - he was 50% limbs by volume. His hair was dark and his eyes were the brightest electric blue she'd ever seen. The fact that he wore glasses and his dark hair was very messy sent a sharp pain through her. He reminded her very much of Harry, except for the very large, goofy smile on his face. Harry had never been so carefree.
"You look like you saw a ghost," he said, chuckling like he'd told a joke.
"Oh, well, I..." she stammered. The American forthrightness was disconcerting.
"John Egbert," he offered, holding out his hand which she shook. "You must be Hermione, right? It's really nice to meet you. Dave and Roxy have told me a lot about you. Don't worry, it's all good stuff. I'm kinda surprised to be honest, he's my best friend but Dave can be a real douche sometimes. Eh, I mean, we all can be on occasion, I guess. But he did have a lot of nice raps to say about you and all the stuff you guys got up to. And by nice raps I mean the stuff he was rapping about was nice, not that the raps themselves were nice. They were really terrible. Don't tell him I said that though."
It was still odd to her how quickly Americans became familiar with people they hardly knew. She had thought she'd gotten used to it, having spent so much time with Dave and Roxy. But they were positively terse compared to John, who exuded enthusiasm and babbled endlessly about whatever came into his head.
"I'm sorry but where are Dave and Roxy?" asked Hermione timidly. They hadn't told her they'd be meeting one of their friends so immediately. "I wasn't expecting-"
"Oh, they got their hands full setting stuff up. Plus, they really suck at transportation, if you haven't noticed. My way isn't as dangerous and it won't make you hurl," he said, with another earsplitting grin. "So, you ready?"
Hermione nodded, clutching her book bag close. "So, um, if I might ask... where are we going exactly?"
He tilted his head, vibrant blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "Ah-ah. It's a surprise. Soooo, shall we?" he asked, bowing deeply. With a flourish, he held out his hand. "Mademoiselle."
She took his hand hesitantly, not quite sure how she felt about him. For his part, he was all smiles as he carefully tucked her hand into the crook of his arm in true gentlemanly fashion. Bouncing on his feet, he glanced at her, giving her a little wink. One moment she was standing on the Astronomy Tower, the next she was standing in dim cloisters in an abandoned monastery. It was just that easy. Far in the distance, Hermione could just barely see Hogwarts as a misty silhouette. The awe she felt must have been visible on her face, because John gave her a little nudge.
"So, how was your first flight on Air Egbert?"
"Very good," she complimented with a small relieved smile. "I particularly enjoyed the inflight service."
"At Air Egbert, we aim to please," he replied cheekily. "C'mon, we got a room set up this way."
They walked down the ruined corridor, hoping over bits of masonry that had crumbled due to neglect. It was very quiet, sound muffled by the thick layers of snow covering everything. An unseen bird warbled disconsolately. She couldn't tell where it came from. Her new companion was quiet as well, which was quite unexpected. Instead, he looked around curiously, his lips tipped up in his own private amusement.
On the east side of the cloisters was a doorway that led to what had been the abbot's residence when the monastery had been functional. A pair of carpets had been hung over the doorway, to keep out the cold. They stopped in front of it. Hermione had no idea why they didn't just go inside. John let go of her hand and stepped forward.
"Ready to make an entrance?" asked John, a dangerous glint of mischief in his eyes. He flicked his arms out like a magician about to perform a trick. Pushing his hands forward, a great gust of wind blew the heavy carpets apart. He strolled into the maelstrom, seemingly impervious to it. Inside, Hermione could hear muttered oaths and a good deal of swearing. She scuttled after him, amazed that she too seemed immune to the wind's power, as if she'd stepped directly into the eye of a storm.
"THE HEIR OF BREATH HAS ARRIVED," John shouted, the wind quieting at his command as he held up his hands like a circus ringmaster. "And he's brought our very special guest."
There was a chorus of complaints.
"God damn it, Egbert!"
"JOOOOOHN! WHYYYYYYYYEEEE?!"
"AH FIDDLESTICKS!"
The last was said by a plump girl, who'd dropped the spoon she'd been using to stir something on the carpet covering the cold cobblestone floor. She wore bright red glasses and had messy, flyaway hair like John. Her eyes were a clear light blue, contrasting beautifully with her dark skin. Picking up her spoon, she gazed at it critically, a frown marring her pretty face. She scowled at John for a moment before her expression softened. Even Dave and Roxy, who'd given him very dirty looks shrugged and proceeded to pick things up without blinking. It was as if this particular scenario had played out many, many times and they were all used to it by now.
"Get over here and clean all this up, buster. You're taking over dish washing duty now, since you have so much time to fart around," the girl commanded in a voice that would not be denied, brandishing the spoon at him menacingly.
He laughed sheepishly, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck as he complied, taking the spoon gingerly from her hand. The girl watched him carefully to make sure there were no further shenanigans, hand on her hip. She then regarded Hermione with a sweet smile, walking forward with confident but graceful steps. Bowl clutched in her left hand, she tipped her head curiously while rolling back and forth on her heels.
"Sorry about that. Jane Crocker. Very pleased to meet you," she said, bobbing her head and stooping into a little half curtsy. Touching Hermione's arm, she guided her over to plush chair placed in front of a small brazier that gave out a regular amount of comfortable heat. "Why don't you have a seat while we get everything ready?"
Pulling her book bag over her head and placing it next to a chair, she didn't sit down. "Oh, but is there anything I can help with?"
Jane looked almost offended as she practically pushed Hermione into the chair. "Nonsense. Guests don't help! You sit down. Do you like hot chocolate or would you prefer tea?"
"Tea please?" she asked, feeling very out of sorts as she sat there, watching everyone else bustle around busily.
Turning to her blond friend, Jane asked, "Roxy, would you mind?"
Roxy's head popped up, looking over at Hermione with a grin. "D'ya like Earl Grey or chamomile? Sorry I ain't got much variety. Only thing I ever seem to be able to appearify is Earl Grey or chamomile when peeps ask for tea. It's like a weird mental block or somethin'."
Nonplussed, Hermione replied, "Chamomile will be fine."
Roxy rubbed her hands together, swiftly drawing them apart in a jerking motion. From between her outstretched hands a box of chamomile tea appeared with a loud pop. She handed the box to Jane who took it and began to prepare the tea, bumping John away from the sink with a hip so she could fill the pot. Minutes later a warm cup of tea was handed to her by Jane, who'd also set a plate of neatly made scones with little jars of marmalade on the table next to her chair. Still feeling guilty for just sitting there, she thanked her softly before carefully sipping the tea.
"Did you need any milk or sugar? Honey?"
"No, this is fine."
Jane nodded and then skipped back to their makeshift kitchen. Hermione sighed, taking another sip. Her eyes skimmed the room. The arm chairs and the brazier were nearest the entrance at the far right of the room. There were several colorful carpets hug over the walls, keeping out the cold. Christmas lights were strung all around, plugged into small green cubes which apparently supplied the power to everything in the room, including a full kitchen stove which was parked in the far left corner. Next to the stove was a full sink, which somehow worked despite clearly not being attached to any kind of plumbing. John was happily doing dishes, bopping back and forth as he scrubbed while Jane danced lightly around him as she cooked. A good distance from this "kitchen" was a picnic table which Roxy was carefully covering with a checkered cloth. Dave waited behind her with an armful of eating utensils wrapped in bright yellow napkins.
With the soft glow of the Christmas lights and the warm smell of cooking food, it was a cozy, comfortable space. Being so near the brazier, she opened her jacket a bit with one hand, pressing her back into the armchair. She'd helped herself to a few of Jane's scones, which were delicious. Having skipped breakfast, she hadn't realized how hungry she'd been. Watching the fire crackle inside its little cage, Hermione found herself becoming a bit drowsy. She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there watching the dancing flames. It was long enough, apparently, that she'd fallen asleep for several hours. Someone gently prodded her shoulder; she looked up dreamily into a pair of clear blue eyes.
"Sorry to disturb you, but lunch is ready," Jane said sweetly, a lovely little smile gracing her face.
The spread was simple American cooking, nothing fancy but very hearty. There was a classic beef stew, roasted red potatoes, asparagus in some kind of butter and garlic sauce, and fluffy butterhorns, a kind of buttery roll that was a Crocker family recipe. Everything was delicious, but the thing that really made the meal was the comradery. She had worried a bit that with more people she'd be made to feel, however accidentally, as an outsider. But she was happy, so very happy that it turned out not to be the case. Dave and Roxy were amusing as usual, enhanced by John's exuberance and they were all kept from getting out of control by Jane's gentle hand. It was a warm happy feeling eating with these people. Something she hadn't felt in a long while.
Jane shooed them away from the table as she cleared it. She wouldn't accept any help at all and insisted they all sit down for a bit. So everyone made their way to the chairs arranged around the brazier and sat, listening to the hiss and pop of the fire and the low sound of Jane humming a tune softly as she puttered away in the kitchen. Hermione sat down where she'd been previously. Roxy flopped down in a chair to her right and Dave sat next to her. John took the seat near Dave, his long legs stretching out towards the warmth of the fire.
Dave gazed at her, fire reflecting in his aviators which he'd pushed on top of his head. "How'd we do?"
Hermione averted her eyes and laughed. "Everything's been lovely, thank you."
"Is that Brit speak for it's been the rad-est fucking shindig ever OR shit sucked but I'm way too British to say so... help me out here."
She was quiet a moment before smiling. "Well, to translate from British English to American, I do believe it's been fucking awesome, as you would say."
Roxy and Dave immediately broke up, laughing hard enough that they began to sputter and cough. John just shook his head, intoning forlornly, "looks like we've corrupted another one. So sad when they go grimdark like that."
This prompted more laughter. They moved on to other topics that were mostly lighthearted fair. The more lighthearted fair in question at the moment was an entire five minute argument between Dave and John about some terrible movie Hermione had never heard of. It had all started when the boys had decided to list their top five movies of 1993 and quickly devolved into loud but amusing bickering.
Dave nearly slid off his chair in frustration as he argued. "Omigod, fucking unbelievable! I can't believe you actually picked the third fucking Teenage Mutant Ninja Shitbags sequel over fucking Jurassic Park for favorite movie of 1993. At that point you might as well flip a coin and pick whatever shitty movie Nic Cage was in that year, it'd at least make more sense because I know you love that flaming bag of cock! What is wrong with you?!"
"Nothing, it's just a really great movie. Like, they go back in time and become samurai. There's a really funny scene where they try and ride horses. It's objectively awesome. Also, Corey Feldman's performance has to be the best of his career," replied John earnestly; he seemed entirely at ease as if they weren't having a half shouted argument about movies. "I would have picked 'Weekend at Bernie's II' but it feels a little like the filmmakers sold out. Plus it's Jake's favorite and I wouldn't feel good about stealing his pick."
"If I thought that you two knuckleheads liked that movie ironically, I could respect that. But I know you both fucking love it, no ironies involved whatsoever. Feel like I failed as a friend and a human being."
Looking at her phone which had a long list of movies released that year, Roxy interrupted them. "You guys are clearly missing the real point of this. Which is - what's the best ninja themed movie of 1993 and the clear winner of that contest would be 'Surf Ninjas', hands down. I mean, their tagline is 'Surf's up! Time to Save the World!' You can't beat that shit."
She held out her phone so they could all see the poster in all of its garish glory with its tagline emblazoned proudly in bold black ink.
"That looks perfectly awful," Hermione scoffed, her nose scrunching up in disgust as she gazed at the perfectly terrible poster art. "I don't even want to imagine who'd pay money to see it."
"I know, right?!" Roxy snorted, turning away so she could show the boys.
"Ahahaha! Jesus Christ," Dave exclaimed, leaning forward to see it. "Look at those assholes. Fuck, what a completely ignominious way to end your career."
"Yikes," John grimaced. "That looks like the worst piece of shit ever. I can't condone Rob Schneider's antics."
"Welp, I'm glad you at least have a line you won't cross. And more importantly that the line is Rob Schneider," commended Dave, cracking his knuckles softly as he gazed at the fire.
John and Dave then proceeded to continue the previous argument, apparently weighing in on who would win in a grudge match: mutant ninja turtles or velociraptors. It was incredibly hard to tell who was on what side of the argument as it kept evolving with sillier and sillier scenarios. Hermione sat quietly listening to them with puzzled bemusement. Roxy's eyebrows rose into her hairline, turning away from the conversation with a little head shake.
"Sorry you had to witness that. We're all inured to the almost daily arguments about John's terrible taste in entertainment, but you rode out your first time pretty good. S'ppose it helps you don't got no idea what they're talking about," Roxy mused with a little sigh. "Wish ta god I didn't."
"It's oddly comforting, actually," commented Hermione, shrugging. "Really no different than when everyone starts going on and on about Quidditch." For a moment she thought back to a week ago, when two seventh year Ravenclaws had nearly come to blows during lunchtime due to a difference of opinion over which of their teams was likely to win the next league match. She shivered. "It was funnier than the arguments I'm used to, at the very least."
"Yeah, glad I don't gotta deal with that shit. All our boys ain't that fond of the sports, unless it's making hilariously inaccurate references to sports for shits and giggles. Hey, how'd you do on that Arithmancy paper I helped you with, by the way?"
"Very good, actually. She mentioned the elegance of the solution particularly," she said with a tiny little grin.
Roxy had never been one to gloat when she was right and instead beamed at Hermione, nearly vibrating with excitement. "HOT DAMN! Do you have it with you? Can I see it?"
Digging into her book bag, Hermione retrieved it and handed it over. Roxy took and unrolled it carefully, her eyes immediately scanning the bottom. Her brows were furrowed at first but gradually softened as a huge smile appeared on her face.
Affecting a truly terrible British accent, she recited, "Most students are inclined to reach for a far more complicated solution to this particular problem, though it requires arguably a far simpler solution. It is precisely why I have assigned it over the years. The heart of Arithmancy is more than simply memorizing equations; it is the realization that numbers are living things. In my experience, it has been the rare student who can assess the sheer elegance of the simple solution. You are that rare student." She paused, her pink eyes bright with tears. "I'm so fucking proud of you."
Hopping out of her chair, she gave Hermione a big bear hug. She handed Hermione back her parchment, wiping her tears away with her hands - her smile still huge. Then she asked about this week's homework, insisting on looking it over as well. Hermione surrendered it to her, glowing with pride on the inside as Roxy poured over that week's assignment. Shortly thereafter, Jane came to sit down, wiping her hands on her apron and looking a bit exhausted.
"Well, the cake's out of the oven. I'll have to let it cool a bit before I can put icing on it," she said, more to herself than anyone else.
Dave and John's argument died down eventually. John stared sleepily at the fire, rubbing his eyes under his glasses as he yawned widely. Dave had put in an earbud and was fiddling with something on his phone, the vague sound of music drifting up from the speaker lying in his lap. Roxy had fully engaged herself in Hermione's homework. She'd managed to appropriate the young witch's bookbag and dug out her Arithmancy book which was balanced on one knee, parchment draped over the other. Somehow she'd managed to get a regular muggle notebook and a pen. She was furiously writing, her eyes sliding from the book to the parchment to the notebook at regular intervals. Jane had awkwardly taken off her apron without getting up, gazing at her friends and then the fire with a strange kind of restlessness.
"I was thinking of taking a walk," she announced, gauging the group for a reaction. "Does anyone want to join me?"
They all looked up slowly. Dave was first to answer.
"This Texas boy ain't going out in that frozen tundra 'less this place is on fire. Pass."
John yawned again, nestling deeper into his chair. "Mebbe later," he replied drowsily.
Roxy waved her hand absently. "Yeah, you do that."
Jane's expression went flat with frustration. All the same, she stood up and began to put on her winter clothes. It wouldn't be the first time she'd taken a walk alone and she really needed to stretch her legs. She hadn't bothered to ask their guest. Frankly, she felt it'd be presumptuous of her to press her into doing something she might not want to with someone who was a virtual stranger, even though she would have liked the company. She was surprised to hear the young witch stand and say softly, "I'd love to go, if you don't mind..."
"Oh, that'll be perfect! Shall we?" Securing her beret on her head, she turned and grinned.