Hermione hadn't dreamt of Harry and Ron since the beginning of first year. Of course, she still thought of them from time to time. Little things that she came across would occasionally remind her of them. She didn't see him very often, mostly due to their houses being rivals, but whenever she saw Fleamont Potter, she couldn't help but be reminded of Harry.
After nearly four years, she thought she had moved past it all… missing them… wishing she could wrap her arms around them one last time… heck, she even missed hearing them complain when she dragged them into the library with her… but unfortunately, she soon found out that she hadn't.
Not too far into the start of fourth year, Hermione had yet another encounter with Fleamont Potter. He didn't bother her, nor did he realize that she was even there. She had been walking along, on her way to Charms, when she spotted him talking with a Slytherin boy who honestly looked like he could have been Fleamont's twin, had he not been a few years younger.
"D-Does that mean you hate me?" the Slytherin boy asked timidly, staring down at his feet.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Fleamont reached out a hand and placed it on the Slytherin's shoulder. "Of course not. You're still my brother, Charlus, and nothing can change that, but you have to understand that things have changed. You can't just come running up to me whenever you want anymore."
Hermione's eyes widened. Fleamont had a brother? Two Potters? And one of them was a Slytherin? How come she hadn't known about this? Sirius and Remus always told Harry that his whole family had been in Gryffindor for generations. Had they not known about Fleamont's younger brother? Had something happened to him? Surely the Potters wouldn't cast Charlus out of the family simply for being a Slytherin… Would they?
"Hey, Fleamont!"
Fleamont's eyes widened as he spotted one of his friends running towards them in the distance. In a flash, his whole demeanor changed. Taking a step back from his little brother, his lips curled up into a snarl.
"You're disgusting, you know that?" he spat. "You're a disgrace to the Potter name. Now, get out of my sight!"
Poor eleven-year-old Charlus Potter began to tremble, his eyes filling with tears. His mouth opened as if he was about to question his brother further, but Fleamont didn't give him a chance and pushed past him to go to his friend. Charlus was left standing there in the middle of the hall, confused and alone.
Hermione had to clamp a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her gasp. She was tempted to go up to the first year boy and comfort him, but he ran away before she could. So, instead, she went and found the Slytherin Prefect, who just so happened to be Cygnus's older brother, Alphard. She told him what she had seen and Alphard assured her that he would keep an eye on Charlus.
The day went on, but the scene she had witnessed never left her, playing over and over in her mind's eye. She did her best to hide her bothered state from everyone, but of course, she couldn't hide it from Tom. He seemed to be able to read her like an open book.
That night, she dreamt of them again... In her dream, she was back in the same exact scene she had witnessed earlier in the day, only she had taken the place of Charlus, and in Fleamont's place was none other than Harry, a pair of emerald green eyes and a lightning-shaped scar setting the two apart.
"I miss you, Harry," she told him, clinging tightly to him as she knew that she would lose him again if she let go. "I wish you were really here."
For a moment, everything was good and she was happy, but then it took a turn for the worse.
"I miss you too, Hermione, but you've changed. You're a Slytherin now. Gryffindors and Slytherins can't be friends," Harry replied, yanking himself free from her arms.
"What are you talking about? Of course they can. Hagrid and I are friends, despite our different houses."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course, Hagrid befriends all sorts of wild beasts."
And then Ron showed up, appearing in place of the friend. Just like his grandfather, Harry pushed her away and ran to meet Ron, abandoning her without so much as a glance back. She tried to chase after them, yelling and crying for them to stop, but they just started laughing.
That's when she woke up.
Shooting upright in bed, she found herself drenched in a cold sweat and surrounded by her roommates. On one side was Druella and Rosaline, and on the other was Laverna, all staring down at her with looks of concern.
"Hermione, are you all right?" Druella asked. "You were thrashing around like crazy and screaming as if someone was trying to murder you!"
"We had to cast a silencing charm on the room so that everyone in the dungeon wouldn't hear you," Rosaline added.
It took her a few moments to calm down enough to be able to form coherent thoughts as well as words.
She was awake. It was just a dream, meaning it wasn't real. Harry would never say something like that. Though she tried her best to tell herself that, she couldn't be too sure. After all, it wasn't like she could just go and ask him, no matter how much she wanted to. They were over fifty years away from each other. That fact seemed to haunt her endlessly.
"I'm okay now. Sorry for waking you with my screams. It was just a bad dream," she assured them.
Laverna nodded her head right away and trudged back off to her bed, collapsing ungracefully onto the mattress and pulling the blanket over her.
Druella and Rosaline, on the other hand, did not leave her side so easily.
"Are you sure?" Druella asked. "You seem pretty disturbed by it, and… you were calling out a couple of names. Harry and Ron, I think they were."
Hermione stiffened. She had called out to Harry and Ron? She knew that she had done so in her dream, but she didn't think she would do the same out loud for everyone to hear. How embarrassing… this really was a mess.
"Who are Harry and Ron?" Rosaline asked. "I take it that you know them."
Hermione nodded reluctantly, trying to figure out a way to tell them who they were without giving too much information. As much as she wanted to confide in them, she knew she couldn't.
"Just some friends I left behind when I came here. I don't know if they're alive or… dead."
Taking her by surprise, Druella reached out and wrapped her arms around Hermione, pulling her into a gentle yet comforting hug. A moment later, Rosaline joined in the hug.
Overwhelmed by the warmth and kindness that they were showing her, she let herself go for the first time since she arrived, letting out every ounce of sorrow and regret she had been hiding inside as she burst out crying.
"Shh, it's okay. We're here for you." Druella soothed.
She was so tired of all these memories of her other life haunting her. All she wanted was for them to disappear. As awful as it sounded, she almost wanted Harry and Ron to disappear from her memory. Not entirely of course, but just enough so that she wouldn't always feel as though she was betraying them.
Of course, she knew she couldn't just obliviate her memories and be done with it. Her memories were what fueled her to move forward, reminding her of why she had come in the first place: to save the world and countless lives that had been lost. Without those memories, all would be for nothing.
However, it made her realize something. She needed to let go of the past, or rather the future. Physically she was in the 1940's, but mentally she was still at least partially in the 1990's. This couldn't continue. She couldn't afford to struggle with nightmares every time she saw someone or something that reminded her of her old friends. Like it or not, there would always be reminders. She had to get over it.
It made her realize something else as well. Her motivation had changed since the beginning. Yes, she was still doing this partly for the friends she had left behind, but she was also doing this for her new friends, including Tom himself. In fact, he had probably moved to the forefront of her list of reasons. She had grown to care about him over the years, probably more than she dared admit.
"Do you want us to stay and sleep beside you?" Druella asked. "My mother used to do that when I had nightmares. It made me feel a lot better."
"That might be nice. Kind of like a sleepover," Hermione agreed.
The two girls nodded their heads excitedly.
Grabbing a couple extra pillows off of their own beds, the girls climbed into bed with her, ignoring Laverna who was now snoring like a bear at the other end of the room. As with most quote on quote sleepovers, the girls couldn't help but talk and giggle for the first half hour, even indulging in a quick tickle fight, but eventually sleep overtook them one by one.
In her last waking moments, as she lay tangled in a mess of limbs and blanket, she made a decision to try to find a way to deal with her memories in the morning. And then she was gone.
There were only two people at Hogwarts whom she could think of that might be able to help her; her grandfather, Professor Renshaw, and Dumbledore. As you can imagine, it wasn't an easy decision. When it came to experience in this particular field, Dumbledore was undoubtedly the better option, but when it came to matters of trust, Professor Renshaw was the better option.
She didn't exactly trust Dumbledore. He hadn't bothered her or Tom at all since he had interrogated her in first year, but she sensed that he was still keeping his eyes on them. There was no doubt in her mind that if she went to Dumbledore with this, he would become suspicious and might try to find out what it was she was trying to forget.
Whereas with Professor Renshaw, he might be a bit suspicious about it, but wouldn't go to such extreme lengths to pry. In fact, she might even be willing to tell him. She had been doing a bit of research on vampires and she had discovered some very interesting pieces of information about them. In addition to many other fascinating abilities, their minds were impenetrable, meaning that not even the most powerful witch or wizard could perform occlumency on them.
With that, she made her decision.
She waited until the end of the day, once the sun had already set for the day and he could move about a bit more freely. Most of her friends knew that she met with Professor Renshaw quite regularly, once a week at most if their schedules permitted. She had told them that they were related, just not how. Tom knew the truth, but the others seemed to be under the impression that he was her uncle on her mother's side.
"Off to visit your uncle?" Druella asked.
Hermione nodded her head, as she climbed over the bench.
"You're so lucky to have an uncle that's so handsome," Rosaline sighed dreamily. "Is he married?"
Hermione giggled, shaking her head at her friend's antics. "No, but I don't think he's interested in dating. He still hasn't gotten over his late wife."
That much was true. He was careful not to show too much emotion, but she could tell that he missed her. Whenever she came up in conversation between them, he would clutch his chest, where he had hidden a locket with a miniature portrait of her inside.
"Do you want us to wait for you?" Abraxas asked.
She was actually surprised to hear Abraxas asking her this. He hadn't exactly paid much attention to her since the rat incident. Could it be that he had finally regained the nerve to talk to her again?
"I appreciate the thought, but there's no need for you to put your evening on hold for me."
Besides, she didn't exactly know how long this was going to take. It could take an hour or all night. Either way, it was better if no one was waiting for her.
Taking off out of the Great Hall, she made her way through the halls and up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, passing only a few students as she went, mostly prefects who were coming back from a meeting. She also passed Alphard, who briefly stopped to inform her that he had talked to Charlus, who was now feeling a bit better. It pleased her to hear that.
When she stepped inside the classroom, Professor Renshaw was nowhere in sight. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw that it was nearly eight, the time that they usually met. Was he running late? Had something else come up at the last moment?
Unable to think of anywhere else he would be, she crossed the room to the door in the far corner that led to his personal office. She stopped to listen for a moment, to see if she could hear any movement on the other side, but the thick wooden door was pretty soundproof. Raising her hand up to the door, she was just about to knock when she heard his voice call out from the other side.
"Come in, Hermione," Renshaw called, "I'm just finishing up with lesson preparations for tomorrow."
Of course he would be able to hear her coming. There were still moments when she forgot that he was a vampire. It hadn't quite sunk in yet. Probably because he seemed so normal and in control most of the time.
Pushing open the door, she saw her professor sitting there at his desk with a big stack of papers on each side of him. As quietly as she could, she slipped into the room and sat down across from him at his desk, going over her plan once more as she waited for him to finish.
"You need something from me, don't you?" Professor Renshaw predicted, announcing that he was finished as he shut the book he was reading with a thud.
Hermione blinked at him. "How did you…"
"Well, you're biting your lip again, something that I've noticed you do when you're deep in thought, and I can sense a wave of uneasiness hanging over you."
Embarrassed at being caught, she dipped her head down to hide her red cheeks.
He only chuckled. "I can't promise that I'll do whatever it is you want, but you are free to ask."
She took a deep calming breath, letting the blood rush back down from her cheeks before pulling her head back up and squaring her shoulders.
"What do you know about the process of memory extraction?"
If her question surprised him, he failed to show it. Instead, he assumed a rather thoughtful expression, folding his arms on the desk in front of him. She couldn't help but notice that he too was biting his lip, being ever mindful of a couple of sharper teeth that could come out and shred his bottom lip if he wasn't careful. Having never seen him do this before, she could only assume that he was doing this to tease her.
She rolled her eyes. He certainly had an interesting way of showing his humor.
"I have performed the spell on myself a few times over the years. As I'm sure you can imagine, there are memories that become too… painful to recall at times," he explained. "Though, I would hardly consider myself an expert. Some of the other staff, such as Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore would surely know more about it than I do."
Yes, she had already figured that much.
"Why do you ask? Is there something you wish to forget?"
"Yes, I wish to forget the future."
This managed to spark a more prominent reaction from him. His brows furrowed as he fixed her with a strange look.
"The future? How can you forget the future when it has yet to come?"
She sighed. This was going to be harder to explain than she initially thought.
That's when an idea came to mind.
"Maybe it would be better if you were to read my mind. I fear this is something that has to be seen to fully understand."
A vampire's mind might be inaccessible, but her mind wasn't, and from what she had read, there was no reason why a wizard turned vampire shouldn't be able to perform legilimency. In fact, if anything, he should be able to perform it better than regular wizards, as his advanced senses would allow him to see everything more clearly.
He seemed uncertain at first, but agreed eventually, nodding as he pulled his wand from his robe and pointed it to her head.
"Legilimens!"
She felt a bitter cold sensation wash over, as he began to pull through the layers of her brain. The only way she could think of to compare it to was that of a brain freeze when you ate too much ice cream.
As he reached the last layer, Hermione focused her mind to show him what she wanted him to see. She started with a few memories from childhood with her parents at their home in Hampstead. Images of her parents taking her to the park across the road and pushing her on the swings entered her mind's eye, making her feel a bit homesick for those simpler times.
She fast forwarded a bunch, briefly pausing to show him the first and only time she had actually seen Voldemort in real life. It had taken place at the Department of Mysteries. She had only seen him at a distance, yet close enough to make a lasting impression. She didn't think that anyone would be able to forget a face like Voldemort's. Professor Renshaw doubtlessly recognized him as the same figure that her boggart had taken.
Finally she got to the end of her time in the 1990's. She showed him a brief snippet of Dumbledore's funeral, making sure that he could see the body as it was engulfed in flames. She showed the chaos that ensued in its wake; how the students had been placed under strict lockdown, and how miserable everyone had been, waiting for Voldemort to strike.
Then, at long last, she showed him the letter that Dumbledore had left for her and the process she had undergone to go back in time and fix his mess. She let him see the first few minutes of her arrival in 1938, smashing the time turner to pieces, before promptly clearing her mind, thus evicting Professor Renshaw from her mind.
His eyes were as wide as they could be, his posture stiff and statue-like and his jaw hanging loose. She had never seen her typically calm and collected professor look so… so… utterly shell shocked. Though, she couldn't exactly blame him for being so. It was a lot to take in, even for her.
"So… you want me to help you extract these memories?" he asked.
Honestly, she was surprised that he didn't bombard her with questions after all that she had shown him. Merlin knows that she would have. However, she supposed that from someone who had lived for centuries, such a reaction was to be expected. Perhaps this wasn't even the first time he had encountered a time traveler such as herself.
She shook her head. "No, not all of them, just a select few."
Nodding his head in understanding, he rose from his chair and began to pace back and forth around her.
"Extracting a few odd memories will not offer the relief that you want. You would have to remove all your old memories in order to do that, and even then, you wouldn't remember why you came here or what you're meant to be doing," he explained. "However, if you can gather all the memories that are troubling you, I can help you push them back into a far corner of your mind and lock them there. Your brain would still recognize them, but they wouldn't be as prominent."
That sounded perfect! She hadn't really liked the idea of extracting her memories, as she had heard that it could be a considerably painful process. If there was a better option, she would gladly take it. So long as the nightmares stopped.
She nodded her head. "I think I can do that."
Coming to stand directly in front of her, he raised his wand, pressing the tip to the side of her skull. "Tell me when you feel you are ready."
She picked out all the memories that were bothering her, including all of the times that they had talked down on Slytherins and Harry's constant rivalry with Draco Malfoy. She also included a few memories that she found too embarrassing to remember… such as the time she accidentally turned herself into a cat.
With all these memories together, she nodded her head to her Professor to give him the go ahead.
She saw his lips move, but she couldn't hear the incantation he was reciting. Whatever the spell was, it was certainly working. She could feel those memories being pulled from the forefront of her mind, slipping deeper and deeper until she could only vaguely recall that they were there. Then, all of a sudden, she felt a sudden jolt inside of her brain. It wasn't exactly painful, but it was enough to make her notice.
"It is done," he said, retracting his wand back into his robe.
Just to make sure it had worked, she tried to purposefully think of one of the many times Harry and Draco had fought. Nothing came to mind. Deep down she recognized that the memory existed, but nothing more.
A big grin stretched across her face as she looked up at her professor. "I think it worked!" she exclaimed. "Thank you so much, Professor."
Professor Renshaw gave her a slight grin of his own. "You are most welcome. I admit, it is nice to know that I'm not the only one who feels as though I am living in a time that is not my own."
She giggled. That was true. They had both come from different time periods, he had come from the past and she from the future. She supposed that it did feel nice to know that she wasn't the only one.
With that out of the way, they stayed and chatted for a while. For the first time since she had arrived, Hermione felt truly free, as she didn't have to hide anything from him. She could tell him stories of her true childhood and about her parents and grandparents, which seemed to fascinate him. He didn't know what dentists were, but then again most pureblood wizards didn't.
"Feel free to come to me if ever you should need those memories unlocked," he told her as she stood to leave.
"I will, and thank you again."
She definitely didn't regret choosing him over Dumbledore...
