Time. Hermione had always had a good relationship with time. There was a reason she took to the turner so well. It called to her. She called to it. Her magic thrummed with awareness whenever she tried to manipulate it.

Time. So why was it being so difficult now? Charlie had left her place three hours ago to pick up his daughter from the airport. He had kissed her before leaving, telling her they'd be over for dinner. He wanted to take the time to tell his daughter about her.

His daughter. Isabella, who preferred Bella. And if that wasn't a nightmare on its own, Hermione didn't know what was. But she'd be strong for Charlie. She wouldn't flinch every time she said or heard the name. She'd be the warrior she knew she was. All for him.

She had peaked out the windows like the crazy person she was. Staring at his driveway, just waiting for the familiar cruiser to pull in. For three hours, she had been waiting. Three hours of cleaning her already spotless house. Three hours of giving voice to her anxiety and fears—she wasn't good enough, Bella would resent her, Charlie would leave her, she'd be all alone again. Three hours of fighting the urge to pack up her belongings and move to a different neighborhood.

Three hours and one minute. There he was, pulling into his driveway. She peaked through the curtains in the most unobtrusive way. She didn't want them to see her, to know she was spying.

The girl slammed the car's door and ran to the house; a duffle bag slung across her back. Charlie slowly got out of the driver's side, a frown painting his face as he looked between his front door and Hermione's. In that moment, Hermione knew some of her fears were true. Obviously, the girl wasn't thrilled her dad was seeing someone. She'd soon be fighting an uphill battle.

Hermione watched Charlie slowly walk into his house and knew her night was not going to go as planned. Less than a minute later her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey Hermione, it's Charlie."

"Hey Charlie, how was the airport?" She winced at the sigh in his breath.

"The airport was good. The ride home, however, did not go as planned."

"Oh." She paused, feeling her ground crumble.

"Listen, I don't think we're going to make dinner tonight. Bella needs a little more time to come to terms with us, and I don't want to force her."

"But you said we'd work this out as a family."

"I know, love, but it's just a big more complicated than I realized."

"Love's not supposed to be complicated, Charlie. I told you I wouldn't be a secret." Hermione felt the tears slide down her cheeks and coat her voice.

"Hey, don't cry, baby girl. I meant what I said. You're not and will never be a secret. I love you, more than I thought was possible. I just need a little time to make Bella understand. She'll come around. I promise."

"Sure. Uhh, Charlie, I've got to go, the timer on the oven is about to go off. I guess I'll talk to you when you're ready."

"Wait, Hermione, don't ha—"

She didn't let him finish as she hung up the phone. Hermione knew she was being as petty and as childish as she was accusing the girl of being, but to her heart, it didn't matter. Maybe time wasn't her friend here, now that she lived in Forks.

Charlie said he needed time and unfortunately, she had plenty to give him.