Monday morning, Early January
The Hogwarts Express
Hermione didn't feel ready. She'd packed everything two days early, unpacked it, reordered her books and notes, and repacked it all again late the previous night. It was odd to go to London again to board the Hogwarts Express, this time with Crookshanks in a carrier. At least everything fit in her beaded bag. Magic was great sometimes, she thought not for the first time. The holidays had been… strange, but nice. She had Crookshanks back, and she'd actually had a good time with Severus whenever he wasn't lashing out for some stupid reason. She still didn't understand him, he kept everyone at arm's length but occasionally he thawed and seemed to actually enjoy her company.
She spotted Hestia, June and Evie on the train platform. They smiled and waved at her and soon they were all seated in a compartment together with a few other seventh-years as the train started moving out from London under the heavy January clouds.
"Did you have a good holiday?" June asked. She was opening a box of chocolate truffles and started offering them to everyone in the cabin.
Hermione took a milk chocolate truffle. It smelled of cream with a hint of lime. "Yes, it was quiet but nice. And you?" The truffle tasted as good as it smelled.
June grinned. "We were with my aunt's family for Christmas, it was great. Lots of food and gifts. She's having a baby soon too, she think it's a girl. She was thinking of naming her either Rose, Lavender or Azalea."
Hermione nodded, she felt pretty certain what name June's aunt would choose for her daughter. It was strange to think about her dormmate for so many years, Lavender Brown, whom she'd mainly seen either as a nuisance or even as a rival for Ron's attention. She winced inwardly, that felt like a lifetime ago. No, two lifetimes. To think she'd ever mooned over Ron… He'd been a good friend, but when looking back at their so-called relationship it was clear to see that they would have been doomed from the start if they tried to get involved romantically.
"What's that, you got a cat?" Evie asked, pointing at the carrier. Crookshanks meowed imperiously, and Hermione opened the carrier door. He didn't come out, but peered at all of them before demonstratively turning around again to curl up with his fluffy tail as pillow.
"Erm, sorry but that's a rather odd-looking cat, isn't it?" Hestia said with a smile. She leaned closer to see better.
Hermione shrugged. "He reminds me of another cat I used to have. He's half-Kneazle."
Crookshanks' tail twitched as if to remind them that he was, in fact, listening, and Hermione reached in a hand to hand him a cat treat. Crookshanks meowed and licked her hand in thanks with a raspy tongue.
They settled in for the long train ride, Hermione with a book, Martinus and Ernest playing a miniature version of Wizard's Chess, and Evie slumbering in a corner. When the trolley witch arrived Hestia bought snacks for all of them to share, and Ernest pulled out his stash of home-made sandwiches and sweets. The English country side zoomed past the window, green rolling hills dotted with sheep, small towns and villages with funny names, and the occasional farm.
Hermione smiled and accepted a sandwich but deep down she wondered what the coming war would do to her new friends. Would they survive, would they make the right choices or turn to the enemy? Would she have to fight any of them later?
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
Early January
Severus had never enjoyed birthdays. Growing up, they were never seen as a happy occasion. Some years, before the local mill shut down, Eileen baked him a small cake which they shared before Tobias came home from work, carefully getting rid of all the crumbs and other evidence. A few times he got a gift, such as used books or a notebook and pens, a toy or a plush animal, but those too were often swept away in the tide that was Tobias' drunken rages unless he was careful to hide them. He did still have one of the teddy bears in the upstairs wardrobe somewhere, and not until after Tobias was gone had he noticed the carefully applied Notice-Me-Not and Muggle-Repelling charms, sewn into its fur with small but neat runes to make them last. The best years had been when he'd received something from Lily. Never anything big, a small notebook, a set of pens, some Muggle chocolate, but it had made him happy.
He dove back into his work when Hermione left. Menace followed him to the workshop, settling in under the rafters outside but knocking on the windows to be let in at night. Severus muttered at him and resolved to find out what charms people used on their windows to let owls in and out, so he wouldn't have to choose between freezing due to an open window or being awoken in the middle of the night by a ruddy bird.
His birthday fell on a Wednesday that year, just after she'd left for Hogwarts. When he got back from his morning run, it was to find Menace quarrelling with a very affronted-looking owl which snapped at him when he removed the note from its leg.
"Leave the owls alone," he muttered to the rook who laughed at him and settled on the bedpost.
Unrolling the scroll, he saw it was from her again. A short note wishing him a Happy Birthday and a comment that she'd left something for him at home. Despite trying all the revealing charms he knew, there didn't appear to be anything else in the note or attached to the scroll.
Her note had made him curious, however. That weekend he returned back to Spinner's End and found a small wrapped package on the side table in the sitting room. With a tap of his wand he cast a Finite Incantatem at it, almost dropping it when it grew in size and weight.
He shook his head in disbelief after opening it to reveal another box inside along with several flat sleeves with garish pictures and large letters on them. A Muggle LP record player? It appeared to have built-in speakers, too. He'd seen one at Lily's place, her mother played jazz music occasionally and her father listened to opera, so he knew how they worked. The player and records appeared to be used but in good condition, and she seemed to have picked records across a large spectrum of music.
Cautiously he plugged it in to the only electric outlet in the sitting room, pulled the sleeve off a record — Led Zeppelin — and put the needle on the track. As the music swelled to fill the small room he froze, almost forgetting to breathe.
It was the nicest thing someone had ever done for him, and he was glad to be alone. It would have been horribly awkward to open it in front of her. But why did she do it? It didn't make much sense.
He pushed up the sleeve of his shirt. The black tattoo which he'd once seen as a mark of pride, stared up at him, the snake coiling around the skull in lazy ringlets. It had defined him, allowed him a place among equals, where he could gain recognition for his skills and ferocity. It was just… Taking a deep breath he pulled down the sleeve again. Not only would it condemn him to a life in long shirt-sleeves year-round, it was also a one-way ticket to Azkaban or whatever horrors awaited after death with no possible exit.
The music had stopped. With a sigh he carefully put it back in its sleeve and chose a classical piece instead, Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The music swelled, filling his shabby house with something almost akin to hope. Maybe, just maybe, things would be alright.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
Mid-January, 1980
Hermione was almost starting to get used to the black and yellow colours, no longer flinching when she saw herself in the mirror while wearing the uniform, but her feet still wanted to take her to Gryffindor Tower all the time unless she was careful. At least she could play it off as getting lost if someone noticed. Most of the painful flashbacks had stopped, at least, and the nightmares had abated. More concerning was that the cursed wounds on her neck and arm weren't healing. She kept them bandaged and Glamoured but often woke up with blood on her pillow and bedsheets. She didn't want to go to Madam Pomfrey with them, though. There would be too many questions.
Classes started up again. She was ahead in her classes as usual, having finished the assigned essays and read ahead in the textbooks. Charms was a delight, as ever, and Professor Flitwick was happy to discuss advanced spell theory with her or give her a pass to the Restricted Section for some extra reading.
"You should have been a Ravenclaw, Miss Granger!" he'd exclaimed one time when she'd given an overly lengthy explanation of Priori Incantatem. She'd blushed and stammered something about the Hat hopefully knowing what it was doing.
Crookshanks settled in quickly at Hogwarts, claiming a corner of the bed by the wall next to her pillow. He must have befriended the elves, and quickly learnt whom to trust and where to go. Having him there made everything feel better. A piece of her future past that had slotted into her present as if he belonged there, which he obviously did. She did tear up a bit, thinking about Crookshanks in her own time and what he must have endured to wait for her at the pet store until she was old enough to buy him, but then he meowed at her, butting his small orange head against the palm of her hand, demanding attention.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
The one teacher she missed the most, even when the younger version was right in front of her, was Professor McGonagall. The stern Transfiguration teacher had always had a soft spot for Hermione, sometimes lending her advanced books from her own book collection and sometimes writing short comments on her essays to point her in another direction for research. It was painfully strange to sit in her class again but this time as strangers, lacking the connection and easy rapport they used to have. This younger version of Professor McGonagall didn't smile indulgently when Hermione knew the right answer, didn't award House points with glee, and didn't trust her to manage the younger students in her House as a Prefect. Instead, the Professor seemed almost annoyed when Hermione had the right answer, as if it pained her to award points to a House other than Gryffindor.
"Want to team up?" Bertram from Ravenclaw said when they were practising Complex Conjuration in Transfiguration class on Thursday afternoon.
Hermione shrugged. "Sure."
Bertram Aubrey was decent at Transfiguration, and together they managed to figure out the spell after a couple of tries, Conjuring a cat that was able to move just like a real one. Across the room she spotted Rhea and Martinus. The dark-haired witch was glowering at her and didn't seem to be paying attention to her own work.
Hermione shook her head and went back to the cat which was now licking its foreleg. She wasn't interested in Bertram that way. He was tall, well-built and handsome, his light brown hair and regular facial features nice to look at, and he was decent enough company, able to discuss things other than Quidditch or gossip, but she just… wasn't. He couldn't, would never, understand what she'd been through.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
The next Sunday she was happy to see Menace flying in with the morning owls. The bird circled the Hall once before cawing once and settling in front of her, on the bread basket. He wore a scroll tied to his leg, and nicked a rasher of bacon off Fidelma's plate opposite her once she'd removed it, before crowing triumphantly and taking off again.
Hermione:
I'm sending Menace off because he's being, well, a menace when he doesn't get to do something productive. He's been told he can hang around with the owls for a day or so if you're inclined to reply, otherwise tell him to sod off. Or Petrify him and use him as a hat stand.
I've attached the article draft I just got back from Potions Monthly, their editor is a bit of a joke of course but sometimes a few of the articles are worth reading, and now mine will be printed in the April issue. Now that I have my evenings and weekends back I can finally make some progress again.
I trust you're settled again and that you've already done all your homework until Easter. Could you look up what charms are used to let owls in and out without having to open the window? Preferably only letting one blasted bird in, not the whole flock.
Your taste in music is most definitely odd, by the way. I don't know what compelled you to do that.
- Severus
She had to smile as she watched the bird's antics. He settled on a suit of armour by the wall while Peeves floated by and seemed to converse with him. She didn't want to know what the two of them would come up with. The article went into her bag and she decided to stop by the library later, to look up owl charms. At least the record player had been a good idea. She'd seen it in a second-hand store in London and hadn't been able to resist when she found some records her parents had owned.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
Hermione didn't make it down to the Arithmancy classroom until she had been back at Hogwarts for ten days, and the boards made her gasp in surprise. Professor Vector had apparently been busy over the holidays, expanding the tensor to cover more people, more information.
"I haven't done much over the hols," she admitted, feeling embarrassed with herself. She'd spent too much time on other things, organising Christmas, figuring out gifts, worrying about Severus and Regulus, and had hardly thought about the upcoming war at all.
The Professor shook her head and scribbled another equation on the boards. The bright blue thread shifted a little to the right. "It's not all on you now, remember that. We're nearing the first serious, open confrontations. Do you have any more info on it that we can use?"
Hermione pulled out her notebooks and got to work.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
No matter what, it was time to get started. She did need a team. She had the start of one, with Regulus, Madam Bones, and Professor Vector on her side, and she still had hope Severus would come around sooner rather than later. It wasn't enough but it was a beginning, and it was clear from her equations that it was needed.
There was one other, though. Seeing him on the platform in London had inspired her to try to reach out. She just didn't know how.
The Hufflepuff witches had just finished a study session in the common room for their DADA homework, and Hermione accompanied Evie and Hestia to the dorms to offload their books before going down for dinner. Luckily the others were out somewhere.
"Evie, your… brother, was it? Kingsley? What does he do?"
Evie grinned at her. "Are you interested?"
Hermione blushed. She hadn't thought about how to frame her request, what it would sound like to someone uninitiated. "Erm…"
Evie started telling her all about Kingsley, about his skills and wit and good looks and Auror training. It felt completely surreal, merging his sister's stories with the Order member she'd known briefly at Grimmauld Place. Kingsley had always treated her with respect, even when she was younger and not a full member, but she didn't think he'd take it well if she requested a meeting via Evie. At best he'd think she fancied him, at worst he'd think she was crazy. No, that wouldn't do.
"I just thought he seemed familiar," she tried. "I'll tell you later but…" She trailed off, completely at a loss for what to say.
"Is it about your family?" Hestia interjected.
Hermione bit her lip and nodded. It was better if they thought so. She decided to change subjects. "Look, I'm not sure how to bring this up, but… where do you stand on this current conflict? With You-Know-Who?"
Hestia pulled closer, looking grim. "I don't like him," she said immediately. "He's wrong, somehow. He's turning the Wizarding world against itself with his propaganda and I've heard rumours about what he does to people who oppose him."
"Good," Hermione said, feeling relieved. "He's dangerous and he needs to be stopped."
Evie nodded slowly and pulled closer as well. "I agree. But what can we do?"
"Everyone can do something," Hermione said. "He's the reason I lost everyone I cared about. I'm going to fight him but I can't do it alone."
"We're with you," Hestia said immediately, and Evie nodded as well.
"Thanks," Hermione said, exhaling. Her limbs felt warm and heavy from relief that she hadn't yet destroyed all her chances at Hogwarts.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
"Would you come to my office this afternoon, Miss Granger?" Professor Sprout asked in passing during their Herbology class the following Friday. They were potting Mandrakes again and had just finished the part where they needed earmuffs. Hermione nodded and went to wash her hands after putting away the tools.
Later that evening Hermione knocked on the Herbology professor's office door. It was located close to the side entrance by the greenhouses, by the classroom Professor Sprout occasionally used for theory lessons when the weather was too adversarial. Hermione had never been there, though, not having felt the need to use the Herbology professor's Office Hours.
The office was warmly lit, with a round dining room table doubling as office desk, and green upholstered chairs surrounding it. Much like the Hufflepuff dorms the room was painted a soft ochre colour with plants stuck haphazardly everywhere they could go, apart from on top of the table. Windows on two side offered a view of the greenhouses and the Black Lake. Professor Sprout must have already asked a House-Elf to prepare tea, as a set with a pot and two cups and a few slices of orange sponge cake materialised as Hermione stepped into the room.
The Professor was silent until Hermione had settled in a chair. "You're more than you appear, aren't you?"
Hermione held her breath and smiled, hoping that would be sufficient.
"I know my sett, Miss Granger," the kind Hufflepuff matron said, her eyes fixed on Hermione. She tapped her wand at the pot, and it poured two cups of tea for them. "You, though, there's something different about you. I almost went off to talk to Albus but then I thought better of it and had a chat with Dilys Derwent instead."
Hermione kept silent, feeling lighthearted. What was it with all those Professors almost going to the Headmaster but ending up talking with portraits instead? She nodded in thanks as she accepted the cup, and added some milk.
"You see, Hufflepuffs have been underestimated since Helga's days. People seem to think that the Sorting gives all the answers. The clever ones to Filius, the brave to Minerva, the sneaky Pure-bloods to Horace, and I get the rest which clearly must mean that they are the stupid and slow ones. That's not quite true, though."
Hermione squirmed in her seat, feeling her cheeks heat up. That had been exactly what she'd thought, and exactly why she had balked at being sorted into Hufflepuff.
"No, I get the kind-hearted ones, the loyal ones, the resilient ones. You know the old sayings about badgers? Wear dragon-hide boots with crackers tucked in by your shins because they won't let go until they hear the crunch of your bones. That's not the sign of something cowardly or weak. They're also seen as tenacious. They protect their young and are good at tracking."
Hermione snorted. "Well, I remember those tales from my grandmother."
Professor Sprout nodded and sipped her tea. "There's a network of Alumni, you could say. We look after our own, much like the Slytherins do, but with a little less backstabbing."
Hermione was intrigued. She hadn't known about that. "Really? Do Gryffindor and Ravenclaw have something like it?"
The Professor smiled. "No, the Ravenclaws are too busy admiring their own brilliance and the Gryffindors all think they are the main star of the universe so neither of them have very efficient networks. Don't tell Minerva or Filius I said that, though."
"Pinky promise, Professor." Hermione smiled. She'd never known Professor Sprout very well, not like Neville had. Plants weren't her passion.
The Professor waved her wand at the cake and one slice flew over to Hermione's side of the table, landing on a suddenly appearing plate. She guessed she had passed the test, whatever that was.
"Now, to business. As I was saying, I do take a personal interest in my students and I did some investigation, you could say, into your background via the Badger Network." The Professor's smile slowly slipped. "None of them, not a single one, could recall anything about a Hermione Granger, potentially related to Hector Dagworth-Granger."
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. It seemed there was no way out of this. "Professor, before I say anything, would you tell me what Dilys… Headmistress Derwent said?"
The older witch frowned. "You see, that was exactly why I didn't run off immediately to Albus. There's something about you that I can't pinpoint. Dilys said I should help you if I can and that you're here for a reason, but she wouldn't give me more than that. You know her?"
"I need to know that I can trust you with my secrets, Professor," Hermione said evenly. "I do know Dilys, a little. I know you'd never betray me willingly but sometimes that's not enough."
"I see," Professor Sprout said slowly. "I think you'll find that I can hide a fair bit behind my plants and my attitude, too."
Professor Sprout pulled out her wand and made a vow similar to the one Professor Vector had made. Hoping it would be strong enough, Hermione started to explain. Although she stuck to the basics, about wanting to do something about Voldemort, trying to skim over the time travel parts, the Professor was as tenacious as the badgers of her House and soon she'd spilled more than she intended.
She could only hope it would be alright in the end. One more who was on her side anyway, she thought, and that must be worth something. In bed that evening she asked Crookshanks what he thought of Professor Sprout, but the orange half-Kneazle merely meowed at her and licked her hand with a raspy tongue before curling in on himself by her side. Taking his cue she sighed and closed her eyes, letting sleep claim her.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
Late January
Malfoy Manor, unfortunately
The Dark Lord had requested another brew, a strong poison with hallucinogenic properties, sending word with Lucius who in turn had sent an owl to the workshop and put together the same guest suite again as last time.
He'd perfected the brew with some help from his older self's notes, and then spent another week diluting it, sacrificing most of his sleep and basic hygiene to spend all his spare time at the Manor. Lucius had forced him to shower a couple of times, threatening to have the House-Elves dousing him with a bucket of water if he didn't go on his own. Now it was already Monday morning and he had finally perfected the draught. Instead of killing half the Ministry it would make them nauseous and give them headaches and bad dreams. His older self had also written about how to make potions that could be activated by charms, and he'd almost managed to make it work. The potion did change colour when one cast a modified heating charm over it, from a pale pearlescent white to a pink, almost red, but there was no time to experiment further and the colour change wouldn't affect the actual properties of the potion.
Yawning he called for Lucius again via a house-elf. He would take another dose of extra-strength Invigorating Potion while at the workshop, and then he'd finally be able to sleep later that night.
Lucius came down after five long minutes, wrinkling his nose at the smell. "Are you finished?"
Severus nodded. "Finally."
"Narcissa… is she well?" He still supplied her with the potion but from his perspective everything had been uneventful thus far.
"She still has the potion. Through February you said? She's tired already, carrying twins seems like hard work. I'm glad it's not me."
Severus snorted and nodded in agreement. Pregnancy did seem horribly uncomfortable.
Lucius coughed to hide a smile. "The Dark Lord is in but he said not to disturb him. Gibbon is on guard duty."
"I need to get this to him," Severus said with a frown, lifting the slim vial. "I cannot stay, Master Pyrites will not be happy."
"Leave it with him, then, even an ape like him should manage simple instructions like that," Lucius suggested.
After giving Gibbon thorough instructions Severus was relieved to return to the workshop, to focus on his own work. Poisoning the whole Ministry… that simply wasn't right.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
The next day they were Summoned via the Dark Mark. Severus had stayed at the workshop, wanting to catch up on his research and needing to keep the weekend brews stable. He muttered a curse when the pain hit, but quickly put things to order and followed the pull of the Mark.
They were given their orders by Rookwood who led the raid on a small town in Wales. Severus was to join the Lestranges and blow the bridge up at a certain time while some of the others went to seek out a Ministry employee in town. Some of the others were going to blow up a few cars in the town centre just to add to the chaos. Severus nodded at Rookwood and went to join Rabastan, carefully pushing all independent thoughts down behind his new Occlumency shields. He couldn't question the orders, wouldn't question them: all he needed to know was that this would somehow benefit the Dark Lord's vision for the future.
It was all over pretty quickly. The Ministry employee was beaten up and left behind his home where the Dark Mark shone in full glory. The bridge was demolished. Severus had actually managed to ensure that no people were on it when they blew it up, but it had taken a subtle Confundus at Rodolphus and a small Muggle-repelling ward at the far end of the bridge, set when the others weren't looking. He carefully hid those memories too behind his walls, hoping it would be enough.
They regrouped at a seedy pub in Knockturn Alley called The White Wyvern, and soon they were all seated with a pint of beer each. Gereon Avery, Justus Mulciber and Rabastan were laughing and discussing the raid. Justus and Gereon had been tasked with creating havoc in the town centre, and had burned down a few market stalls, set a few cars on fire and beaten up a few of the local drunks. In Rabastan's telling, it sounded like the bridge demolition had been a full-scale battle, with Muggles coming in to try to stop them and cars raining down off the bridge once it succumbed to the well-aimed Bombarda Maxima spells.
He left quietly for Spinner's End and spent most of the night in his armchair, wandlessly Levitating new records to the player whenever the music stopped.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
Early February
Hogwarts
Professor Dumbledore had announced that Hogwarts would have a Valentine's Feast on the fourteenth, and all the Hufflepuff girls immediately squealed and started planning for the Feast. Students would be allowed to go in pairs, and would sit at round tables instead of the regular House tables. They were also allowed to dress up, although it wasn't mandatory.
Hermione didn't really care, but Hestia and Evie still insisted on a Hogsmeade trip to buy dress robes, and dragged her along despite her protests. She did find a nice set of dress robes, in purple with pearl beading and a sheer overlay that shimmered when she moved, figuring that it may be useful some day even if not for Valentine's. It was on sale anyway, and Hestia and Evie refused to let her leave the shop without it.
Dinner that Sunday was a boisterous affair, with the Valentine's Feast being the main topic. Hermione listened with half an ear while her dormmates discussed their dates, potential dates and wish lists, but she was more concerned with her Arithmancy work and the upcoming practical test in Herbology. She'd never cared about Valentine's and wasn't interested in anyone in the Castle for more than friendship, and Valentine's as a concept just gave her flashbacks to Professor Lockhart, which was even stranger considering he was a student this time.
"Who are you going with, Hermione?" Hestia asked.
She shook her head. "No one. Not sure I'm going, to be honest."
"Of course you should go, you have dress robes and everything," Hestia said. "I want to go with Martinus, not sure he will ask though."
"You should ask him," June said.
Hestia blushed and nodded, and distracted the others by mentioning that she'd heard Lockhart asking Alanna Wainscott out. The blonde Gryffindor girl was widely considered one of the top witches in school, at least in looks, and although Lockhart was annoyingly popular he was still only a fifth-year while she was a seventh-year.
During the next Transfiguration lesson Bertram asked Hermione if they could team up again. He seemed a bit more distracted than usual, messing up things he should have managed easily.
When the lesson finished, Hermione packed up her books and started towards Hestia and Evie who had been seated closer to the door.
"Hermione… wait," Bertram said.
Hermione turned, impatient. She had to go to Charms class and had wanted to come early to discuss an article in the latest Charmed Monthly with the Professor, regarding Memory Charms.
Bertram came closer, standing between her and Hestia and blocking the path to the door. He looked flustered, raking a hand through his hair. "Will you go to the Feast with me?"
That wasn't exactly what she had expected, although she probably should have. "Eehh… I wasn't planning on going with someone."
"Why not?" He frowned and then tried to smile. "It's always better to have company."
"I'm not really into feasts like that, Bertram, sorry," she tried again.
Hestia had pulled Evie back and the pair of them were watching with altogether too much interest.
"But go with me anyway? Please? I'll behave, promise." He reached out a hand for hers, but she slipped away by fiddling with her bag.
Evie was waggling her eyebrows at her from across the room, and she forced herself to smile. "Alright, I'll go with you."
Bertram grinned at her. "Great, I'll meet you outside the Hufflepuff dorms?"
"Fine. See you then."
When she left the classroom, after a still-smiling Bertram, she saw Rhea looking at them with a scowl on her face, and sighed again. She was quite sure Rhea fancied Bertram who in turn didn't seem to notice, and she hoped she hadn't made a mistake in accepting Bertram's request. He was nice, good-looking, kind and rather clever, but he did nothing for her.
Later when getting ready for bed she saw the wounds had started bleeding again. She'd tried everything she could think of on her own to get them to close, but it didn't seem like it was working. She hated touching them, hated seeing them in the mirror and the way they left spots on her sheet.
Crookshanks meowed at her, as if he was concerned.
"It's alright, Crooksy," she murmured. "It will be fine."
She put on a fresh bandage and reapplied the Glamour, hoping it would hold, hoping what she had said to Crooks would be true.
