Hermione Granger and The Kiss of Time
by Lousy Poet Automaton
xxx Chapter 2: The Wisdom of Waiting Well
It was unrealistic to hope that it would all change at once. Of course it was. She had hoped for it anyway. But as those first days passed after the troll incident, the brief spark of admiration amongst her fellow lion cubs faded, as did their respect and tolerance, and soon it was back to the way it was before.
Almost.
Every time, at night, when she was zonked, and the day felt particularly hard, and she felt particularly lonely, Hermione would remember that moment when the troll went down, and the look the three of them had shared. Relief. Surprise. The ineffable acknowledgement of being bonded by the profound stress of a moment of true life-threatening danger.
And how impressed the professors were! After all, they were just first years.
She remembered it, the fear, the exhilaration, the pounding in her heart, the way everything seemed to slow down. The door and the stalls pulverized by the troll's wild swings. The crazy moment of observation that the bits of wood were really rather a lot like toothpicks or matchsticks...
Getting shoved out of the path of another swing by Harry, whose off-arm was broken. The astonishment in the boys' eyes when she had risen up and calmly put all her power into transfiguring all those bits of wood into hundreds of needles all at once. Some small as an eyelash, some long as a railroad spike. The effort exhausted her, burned through all her child's reserve.
Ron's open-mouth when she yelled at him to get to it and float the needles would have made her laugh, if they were not about to get crushed to death.
"Lev-i-oh-SAH, Weasley!" She had shrieked. No, not shrieked! She had commanded it. Yes. Queenly. Not shrill. Maybe. Swish and flick you idiots!
Ron and Harry put a wall of floating, wobbling, shining metal between the three of them and the troll. And with the force and speed of its own unstoppable charge, the troll had run into the barrier, its own muscles driving those tiny projectiles through its tough skin, into its swinging arms, into its lunging face, its eyes. Its skull. It did not fall with a roar, but with an awful, wet, gasping blurble, as its lungs fired bloody foam out a dozen puncture wounds.
After the adrenaline had faded and the three of them were not faint or trembling or hyper-ventilating, Ron yelled "Ace!" in relief and victory and pale, wincing Harry put his working arm around the both of them and laughed.
Ron still had no use for her brain, mostly, by the way he acted. Still was put off by her strict observance of the rules. Though, well, he was kinder, when he remembered. When he wasn't being a tall drink of tosser.
And Harry... Ah, Harry. He hurt her even more. Because he became just close enough to start talking to her about his fledgling crush on some older tart named Cho Chang.
How long until boys got the least bit perceptive anyway? Did he not notice how pinched her face got every time he would pine about Chang? It made her ill to be supportive and cheery when all she really wanted to do was somehow press fast forward so they could get to the when that really mattered, the when that left her waking up every morning with a tingle on her lips and a fire in her heart.
Hermione told herself to be patient. The one in the mirror had told her, after all. They were still children. Even she herself. None of them were yet the people they were going to be. Years away. Push too hard and she'd just mess things up.
Or, well. Were the mistakes she was going to make set in stone or not? Were events predetermined? Had they already happened? Time seemed to be a funny thing.
"Hell, Granger. What is with you?" Ron muttered, sent once more to pull her out of the library, remind her that it was time to eat. "You've been studying even harder since the troll thing."
Hermione leaned back and stretched, joints all along her back and shoulders popping in sequence. Her fingers were ink-stained from handling her quills and inks for so many hours so many days in a row, skritching foot after foot of notes as she evaluated what spells she needed to learn next. Some days, she remembered to vanish the ink, most days, she did not care. What she really focused on was high-level potion and alchemical theory, because that is what she would need by the end of the year.
How could she explain it to them? She had thought that the school was safe. Thought that the events she had been shown by her mirror self were still so far away - far enough that it was okay to merely excel at the given material for the year. Now, she knew that it was not safe. That the dangers were coming regardless of their youth or the best intentions of the faculty.
"Lions need teeth and claws. I'm never going to be beating anyone up with my fists, and I'm never going to be popular and have tons of friends at my back. So I have to work for my weapons. Just pack away some bread and something, make, I don't know, a sandwich for me. I'll get to the common room, later. I have to keep working."
Harry shook his head. "You'll drive yourself totally bonkers. Raving mad. You wake up at dawn and run and stuff, or swim in the lake," Ron's eyes widened, having not known, about that bit "and every spare second, you're either practicing with your wand or flipping through books for upperclassmen. And I've heard from the other girls, you're up far later than everyone."
She sighed. Maybe they were right. She could not do this all at once anyway. And if she sometimes gave in, then they would ease up on her in turn. The truth was she was always tired. The morning routine was particularly exhausting, at first, as she had never been the physical sort before.
Oh, she wanted to tell them. She wanted to grab their shoulders and shake them. Their studies weren't just grades. They were not going to be allowed to just be kids. But that would definitely be too much pushing.
"All right then. Let's go eat."
They walked along those long corridors. The boys glowed with that child-like aura of invincibility, of innocence. And she, she was half-faded into the long shadows cast by the statues and the suits of armor.
And still her mind never stopped.
With the suspicious events around the security measures set in place by the teachers around the poorly hidden secret of Nicolas Flamel's masterpiece, the boys had steadily been drawn in a little bit by her serious, glowering demeanor. They were only into it enough to talk about it, to discuss their suspicions about Snape. But not enough to work towards being better prepared.
It was different for Hermione. She now knew that even this first year was critical to the future. Because it would be her only chance to study a Philosopher's Stone up close.
Then it struck her. Her impassive face stretched into a langorous, sly smile. "Hang on now. Harry Potter, have you been watching me in the mornings?"
"I just, uh, well - "
Hah. Was that a blush? Hmm. Best not read too much into that. She would just embarrass herself - still flat as a board and her butt was indistinguishable from a boy's. Tease him too much and it would just get Ron teasing her.
Neither of them would recognize flirting yet.
"You're welcome to join me. Start putting on a little muscle now, your chances with girls are better later."
Harry blushed a little deeper, and sadly, his eyes went farther away, thinking about someone else again. Oh well.
She mouthed Cho's name and Harry caught it, started to take the thought seriously.
"Ugh, girls. Bah. All crazy." Ron muttered. "Say now, though. Think it might help with quidditch? I'll surely be trying out next year..."
"Quite. Don't you know how much effort professional players put into exercise? Helps them with the brooms - you know, to hang on with just your legs at high speed, so both arms are free to swing your beater bat or throwing a quaffle harder or if you need to do an extra long reach for a snitch - " She was making this up, but she thought it sounded reasonable.
The boys got to talking about that with self-reinforcing, positive feedback enthusiasm.
Hmm, well worth the time she would lose this evening. Now she had to nudge them into making that commitment.
Every little bit she could get them into investing into the future made the darkness to come a little brighter. Or would it? She had read of thought experiments involving cats in boxes. Did not the things she observed of what was to come determine that those events would come to pass no matter what she did?
"How can you look so gloomy with all this food in front of you. Can't get it at all."
"Hermione, stop staring at your plate and eat something."
She did like it when Harry worried about her. She did. She liked his eyes on her already. She could not imagine how much harder it would get when her emotions grew. Ugh, the foreknowledge that he would not be her first was awful. And he would not even be her second. It was cruel to know too many hints about the path of love's missteps.
"Hermione? Are you alright? You got so red..."
"Sorry, thinking stupid thoughts is all. What have you sampled tonight that you would recommend, ser Weasley?"
Make the best of things. All anyone could do, really. And at least she had plenty of warning.
"Garlic potatoes: buttery and wonderful. Asparagus is soggy. Roast is a bit burned. Salad's bruised - house elves tossed 'em too much. Recommend the fish, nice and flaky, and the pumpkin soup."
Harry shook his head. "Unbelievable. You tried all that already?"
"Don't question. Let's just accept the blessing that is Ron Weasley, for scouting a path through the landmines of each meal."
She ladled out soup for herself, a dollop of mash, and a healthy amount of fish, and after a few bites, sighed and nodded her thanks the redhead's way, not that he noticed. The boy did know his food.
Hermione considered what it would be like to kiss him, and hoped that he would learn quickly not to be a slobbering sod.
That sweet ache again, the comparison she could not help, with the man who would kiss her just right when they finally get there.
Yes, she could wait for that. But she would not be sitting still, waiting. She would be readying herself as she walked on the path to meet him.
xxxend chapter