Moments in Time

Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling & C.S. Lewis

IV: The Shape of Things to Come

or

"Don't look back; you're not going that way."

Peter Kader, age twenty-six, was a simple man. His friends would say that his family was his everything. Though his siblings would say that his career defined his existence.

Peter was born in Calormen, the eldest child of the family. He had been named after the High King from the Golden Ages of Narnia some one thousand years ago (his mother had been quite fond of the fables of Narnia). He had five younger brothers and during the birth of his younger sister, due to unforeseen circumstances, the Kader siblings had lost their mother. Peter's father fell into a depression, not soon after that, and it consequently became the key to the end of his short life.

From that day on, it became Peter's responsibility - as the eldest - to take care of his siblings from a ripe age of thirteen.

His first big course of action (several years after they'd been made orphans), as the head of the family, had been to move his siblings away from the toxic village where they lived. The constant whispering behind their backs and spiteful rumours of the reason their father committed suicide made him and his younger brothers red with anger; Sally had been too young to understand.

'Perhaps the last child was not his own.' They would whisper as they stared at the red locks on his sister's head; so starkly different to the hereditary Kader black tresses. Apparently, everyone had chosen to forget the fact that their mother had been a redhead.

And so, they had packed their most treasured belongings and started their pilgrimage to the revered land of Narnia.

"Peter! Pete!"

Slowing down his stride, the Captain turned around.

Oliver was running towards him, his arm flailing wildly, visually portraying that quirky manner of his that only his siblings knew about. Peter rolled his eyes fondly as the younger man finally reached him and made a show of gasping for breath.

"Whatever it is, tell me quick. I'm trying to find Hermione," Peter demanded, not in the mood for the games his brothers played with him.

They, for some absurd reason, believed that they could keep him young with their witty words and childish larks. Something that Peter both appreciated and resented. Though he was not a petty man, there were moments in his life where he envied the youthful lives his brothers led, for he had protected them so well; keeping them away from most of the harshness the world held. It was his burden to bear, after all.

Oliver nearly folded over in half with his hands on his knees, peeked at him through his floppy hair. His brother raised one eyebrow, a mocking grin forming on his lips.

"Hermione?" Oliver questioned, wiggling his eyebrows, "what about Hermione?"

It was no secret that the Kader men were quite taken with the lovely, curly-haired brunette - who had so quickly wormed her way into their lives. Though she had been with them for only a few weeks, it felt like she'd been there for more. She'd become quite the talk of the town, especially since she now worked at the tavern. She had only been at the Greyhound Inn for a day and already there were whispers about the mysterious new barmaid circulating the town and castle.

Peter sighed with exasperation, "She got upset."

A frown settled on his face again, as he remembered her devastated face when she'd run past him.

"For Aslan's sake Peter! Could you not upset every woman who comes within your vicinity?" Oliver taunted, nudging him in the ribs, as he drawled his words in that infuriatingly sarcastic manner of his.

There was a glint of mischief shining in his eyes that Peter had grown fond of over the years.

Though they were the eldest of the bunch, when they were younger, both Peter and Oliver were the cause of most of the mischief that went on in the household. Being made orphans in such a short period made the two eldest boys grow up sooner than they wanted to and while Peter had shed his childlike innocence, he had sheltered his partner in crime from the storm that was the reality of life.

"It wasn't me, Ollie," the older brother glowered, but with no real heat. "Now, if you could tell me what you were in such a rush to say, I can be on my way," he deadpanned, with an air of impatience that only the eldest child would have over their siblings.

"Well, King Caspian would like your presence in his solar."

The repartee was broken; as it always did when their jobs came into question.

"Couldn't you have told me that sooner?" Peter asked feeling slightly annoyed.

"You're the one talking about heartbroken young girls," Oliver smirked as he fiddled with the sword hanging limply on his hips. "Go," he prompted as his brother looked hesitant, "I'll find Hermione."

Peter smiled at his brother, placing a thankful hand on Oliver's shoulder as he hurried away towards the East Wing.

"Oh!" Peter suddenly remembered the parchment in his hand; he turned back towards his brother. "Give this to Hermione, would you?" It was rhetorical as, without waiting for an answer, he hurried off to meet his king.

"Yeah, sure," Oliver mumbled as he shook his head at his brother.

Unraveling the parchment, he skimmed the page. His eyes clouded in confusion, why would Hermione be upset? Her citizenship had been approved.

'Better find out,' he thought as he turned towards the palace garden - it was the only nearest exit where Hermione could have gone if she'd traveled in this direction.

Although Oliver was a thoroughly trained, respected member of the palace guards; he was just as oblivious to the Just King's personal guard, Dagger, tailing him as Peter had been.

"You have the legs of a gazelle," he commented offhandedly, as he walked closer to the petite young woman.

Hermione sniffled in shock, looking up at him with puffy, red-rimmed eyes, her nose was snotty, and lips were swollen from where she had bitten down too hard. Oliver was taken back by her state, and a part of him couldn't help but appreciate that though she looked a far cry from her usual composed self, she still looked beautiful in that unique way of hers.

"My brother can't be that bad with dames - to make you run that fast - can he?" He tried to comment with an air of indifference, to give her the satisfaction of not being pitied upon, but his voice came out weak and choked (and he was pretty sure that it broke halfway through his sentence - but they both chose to ignore that).

"What?" She sniffled with confusion, rubbing the mucus dripping from her nose with her bandage, as using her hem of her dress was far too unmannerly.

Oliver hastily pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Here," he winced as he noted that the corner of the fabric was tainted with a couple of drops of blood, but Hermione was either ignorant of the fact or simply didn't care as she took it from him with a look of gratitude.

He looked around the garden with apprehension, but seeing no one around, he hesitantly took a step forward - as though he was still contemplating his move - before he finally decided 'heck it all' and perched on the edge of the fountain beside her. There was a moment of calm silence as both of them admired the scenery of a well-kept garden; while simultaneously grimacing at the awkwardness that was quickly befalling between them.

"Peter ... I mean surely he can't be that bad ...," Oliver scratched the back of his neck with nervous energy, as Hermione remained bewildered. "I mean to make a girl like you ... cry like this ..." he'll admit, his openers were not the best, but it did the job.

"A girl like me?" Hermione pursed her lips, looking displeased.

"No, don't take it the wrong way, it's just - my first impression was that you are not the type of girl to - you're strong. By Aslan, you have to be, to have survived and escaped the way you did." As he was avoiding her gaze through his awkward explanation, he missed her grimace. "So to see you like ... this ... it's strange. - It doesn't suit you," he stuttered.

Hermione spared him a small, but kind smile. He quirked his lips charmingly in return.

"Thank you ... I think. But you're wrong there; it wasn't Peter."

"Then who was it?" His gaze was slightly more dangerous and his tone no longer mediating now, his hand instinctively fell on the hilt of his sword.

"Unless you are prepared to run a sword through your king, I would take the hand off the sword," she snarked as his mouth fell open in stupefaction.

"Which one?" The words stumbled out of his mouth out of habit.

" ... The Just, believe it or not."

"Oh ... really?"

"Hmm."

"Well, I mean, I do believe it - 'coz Eddie has told us many stories about the silver-tongued king - but I'm surprised he upset you."

"Why?"

"Well, because King Edmund is known to be chivalrous and charming with the women. He saves his callous eloquence for the court."

"Charming is the last word I would use to describe him ..."

"Curious." In truth, Oliver was slightly mystified. A woman usually had nothing but compliments to reap about the youngest king.

"So how did they become friends?"

"..."

"King Edmund and Edward, I mean. God, it's so confusing that they practically have the same name! Isn't the High King also called Peter?" She questioned remembering the history lesson Derrick had given her about Narnia.

Oliver chuckled, "My mother's to blame for that. She was ... fond ... of the Old Narnian tales. It was a surprise that she chose such a unique name for Sally actually; we half expected her to be named a variation of Lucy or Susan."

"Ah, and your mother she's ...?" There was a pause.

Hermione, though a brave Gryffindor and articulate speaker, couldn't quite find the words to form her question. But her intent was understood, and his silence was all that she needed.

"Oh," she muttered.

"Yup," Oliver replied popping the 'p' on his lips. "We're not quite sure how Eddie and the king met," he swiftly changed the subject, "Eddie has always kept his silence on that. But one day the king just turned up at our house for dinner and ... we just didn't question it."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow in surprise.

"Well I mean after he'd left, Sally had thrown a fit about not being warned in advance - she used to have a crush on King Edmund then, you see - but somehow it became a normality. King Edmund does not have the tendency to throw about his status in people's faces, so it's just quite easy to forget when you're in his presence."

"I would have thought that there would have been an uproar about a king spending his free time with someone of not the right class of society," Hermione replied, choosing to ignore Oliver's last statement.

King Edmund had done nothing but impose his status towards her. He was shrewd, she thought, as he had not outwardly spoken about his rank; but it was there, in his posture and his tone. An air of superiority wreathed around him in such an innate manner that Draco Malfoy (who now seemed like nothing more than a petulant, abrasive child to her) could only dream of exuding.

"Of course, there was, but the king and his family don't believe in all that hogwash. King Edmund quickly shut down the gossip that was spreading, tore down the root of the grapevine as it were. No one bats an eyelid now."

"Curious," Hermione echoed his earlier choice of words.

Oliver couldn't help but smirk at that, Hermione, if anything, was a sensational conversationalist, and it was almost with sour regret (as he gazed at the positioning of the sun in the sky) that he turned back to her looking despondent.

"As illuminating as this conversation has been, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to beg your leave. I must be back at my post to release Gibson for lunch."

"Oh, yes, yes of course. How silly of me, you go ahead. I'll leave in a bit."

Oliver scratched the back of his head again; it was a habit it seemed, "Well, actually, I cannot leave you here. You see this is a private garden; we shouldn't be here at all."

"Too right you shouldn't."

Hermione and Oliver spun around, eyes startled as they looked like a pair of deer caught in headlights.

A handsome, blond-haired king, Hermione guessed easily by the golden crown atop his head, walked closer to them.

'God, is there something in the water?' Hermione whispered to herself.

Oliver, who had heard her smirked.

So, naturally, she ribbed him.

"Oh, don't be so boorish Peter," a sweet and delicate sounding voice spoke from behind him.

Hermione craned her neck slightly to catch sight of a girl walking just behind the older king, with slightly darker blonde hair.

"Don't mind him; he gets cranky when he hasn't been fed," she continued, lightly.

Hermione snorted, then looked horrified, she covered her mouth with her hand feeling embarrassed. She avoided making eye contact with Oliver as through her peripheral vision she could see that he was trying so hard to hide his grin. The young queen, with a silver crown on her head, walked to stand in front of them and didn't look at all sore about Hermione's lack of decorum. In fact, she beamed, unlike her, unmistakably, older brother who pursed his mouth and looked vaguely annoyed.

'It's easy to see how they are related,' Hermione thought as almost subconsciously. Her brain quickly flashing an identical picture of the Just King's thin, pursed lips.

"You have to forgive us, your Majesties," Oliver apologized, "it wasn't our intention to overstay our welcome."

"Oh don't be silly," the queen laughed, "there was no harm done. After all, it's hard for lovers to find a quiet spot these days."

Hermione and Oliver gaped for a moment, before synchronously stuttering.

"Oh, we aren't ..."

"I mean ..."

"Noooo ..."

"That's just."

"Couple?"

"..."

" ... We're not a - couple?"

"No ... of course, we aren't, that's ... that's absurd."

"Are you speaking from experience?" The third voice cut their tirade, the two bumbling subjects turned towards their High King but quickly realized that he was not talking to them but his sister.

" ... What?" Lucy looked amused and perplexed.

"'It's hard for lovers to find a quiet spot,'" he mimicked, "is that from experience?"

The snort that Lucy let out was full of false disbelief.

"Now Peter, do you honestly think that with you and Ed hovering over my every move - that I'd ever get a chance for romance?" Her question was nothing but innocent. So perfectly worded, yet laced with just the right amount of sarcasm that had Hermione, Oliver, and Peter squinting their eyes in suspicion.

"Lucy..." Peter started in a warning tone.

"Thank Aslan Caspian isn't so easily intimidated by you. Otherwise, I would have to worry about him listening to your ill-advised orders about my joie de vivre too."

"Joie de vivre? What in the mane does that even mean?"

"Joy of living," Hermione spoke without even thinking, and then immediately regretted it, as the attention returned to the two of them.

"And how did you know that?" Lucy asked her curiously.

Hermione tensed, clenching her fists as she felt the blood draining from her face. The phrase was French. French didn't exist in Narnia. For Merlin's sake! France didn't even exist in Narnia.

How was she going to talk herself about this one?

"That would be because some of us read."

The quartet turned towards the fifth arrival.

King Edmund.

Hermione stared at him with startled eyes. He wasn't looking at her, but at his siblings. He was tall, she noted. He easily towered over his sister and stood just a hair's breadth shorter than his brother. Over the white shirt he had been wearing earlier, he wore a black, silver and green embroidered sleeveless jacket and a cape made of similar shades. The jacket was held together to his slim waist by a dark green belt and the cape was tied around his neck with a class that Hermione was positive resembled a snake. Ironically, it reminded her of Slytherin's emblem and house colours.

As she followed the line of his long dark cape that was swaying in the breeze, to his riding boots that she noticed the wolf who was sitting proudly next to its king. She knew that she was supposed to be intimidated, as the animal bared its teeth menacingly towards her, but her awe could not be hidden as she admired the beauty of its fur. Apparently, her lack of fear confused the large canine, as its face transformed quite comically into one of a tamed kitten. She knew immediately that it must be a Talking Animal.

Her gaze broke away when Lucy spoke up.

" ... In what Narnian book would you find Fre-?"

Hermione's insides turned to ice, as fear gripped her. For a sure moment, she believed that King Edmund would reveal her secret to his siblings in front of Oliver. What would Oliver think when he found out that she had lied to him and his entire family? They would hate her, after all the kindness they had shown her.

"Why are we all standing around?" Edmund cut Lucy off, promptly but subtly, ignoring her glare as he started a tirade. "Trumpkin told me that we were convening in the gardens for afternoon tea today, and yet I don't see any food. Some of us have actual work to do," Edmund commented brazenly as he gave a pointed stare towards his younger sister.

The younger siblings fell into a natural banter, but Hermione found herself not paying attention as she frowned at the king with confusion. Although she was grateful, Mad-Eye's shout of 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE' rang in her head. She couldn't understand why he had lied for her and helped her keep her secret. Perhaps he felt guilty for upsetting her.

"If you two are quite done," Peter addressed to his siblings, "let's head to the gazebo. The food should be arriving momentarily, as should Susan and Caspian."

"I don't think that I've seen you around before," Lucy commented, ignoring Peter's orders, staring straight back at Hermione (who had slowly started to wish that she was anywhere but here).

Hermione's eyes fell back on King Edmund, and she was startled when she found him staring right back at her with an indescribable intensity. She moved her eyes back towards the queen, who suddenly looked far keener about her than she previously had been, as she gaze darted between Hermione and her dark-haired brother.

"I'm new here," Hermione stated, keeping her words minimal, whatever she said here now could be thrown back in her face should the truth ever be revealed.

"New?" Peter questioned with a perplexed expression.

"Yes."

"Hermione only just became a citizen of Narnia," Oliver inputted, believing that he was being helpful.

"Who authorised that?" Peter interrogated, looking more alert suddenly.

"I did," everyone turned towards King Edmund.

Peter gave his brother a perplexed look, which Edmund returned with an 'ask me later' stare, to which Peter replied with a raised eyebrow out of an almost teasing interest, as he quickly glanced in Hermione's direction.

Lucy let out an exasperated sigh as her brothers, once again, conversed without words.

Oliver just looked entertained by how this encounter was unraveling.

"There you are!"

The moment was broken as two more people walked into what was rapidly (and quite clearly) becoming a gathering of divergent individuals.

The new arrivals (who could only be Queen Susan and King Caspian - because if Narnia had any more rulers, Hermione might just lose it) looked slightly disheveled, an untucked shirt, a ruffled skirt, mussed hair, red lips (on them both) - it was almost as though they had been - well...

Hermione looked at the other siblings, taking in their annoyed (in King Peter's case), disgusted (in King Edmund's case) and the amused (on who must be Queen Lucy) faces, before coming to a deduction. She wondered if it was acceptable to be quite amused and disturbed at the same time over a king and queen's apparent romp.

"Oh, hello, who are you?" Queen Susan quickly asked as Peter opened his mouth to tell off his sister and cohort.

"She's new," Lucy helpfully inputted.

"Well, of course, she is," Queen Susan said almost saccharinely, "I would remember a face like that." Hermione bristled. "I was inquiring her name."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione introduced, with a bite in her tone.

Hermione caught a shift in King Edmund's stance, but when she looked at him, he maintained his stoic expression.

"And where are you from dear?" Susan questioned in that same syrupy tone, which, truth be told, was starting to grate on Hermione's nerves. It reminded her of how Pansy Parkinson would often talk down to her. Though she knew very little about the monarchs, she'd heard that Susan Pevensie was the Gentle Queen - and currently, she was being anything but.

"Calormen," Oliver replied benevolently.

"Calormen?" King Caspian asked, looking rightly troubled.

Calormenes were usually not good news, with the rare exceptions like the Kader family.

"... A Carlomene slave trade escapee."

Everyone gaped at King Edmund's casual remark, Hermione the most of them all. Her horrified expression was mistaken as her right to his blasé comment.

"What?" King Peter's voice rose by several pitches, his eyebrows having disappeared beneath his hair.

King Caspian looked appalled.

Queen Lucy stared at her with sorrow.

Queen Susan seemed regretful (perhaps her Gentle disposition was finally kicking in).

Oliver twitched, suddenly torn between wanting to take Hermione as far away as possible as he could from there and performing an act that could count as treason.

"Edmund!" Surprisingly, it was Susan who screeched in disdain.

"What?" Edmund said, looking unconcerned.

Hermione gawked at him with incredulity before holding her chin up in defiance, "Excuse me," she said before promptly turning away from them and walked in the direction of the castle. Her legs moved, faster and faster until she was all but sprinting away.

"Hermione!" She could hear Queen Lucy call from behind her (at least, she thought it was Queen Lucy, she couldn't imagine that Queen Susan would care).

But she didn't stop.

She didn't stop until she had left the castle.

Away from the taunting eyes and detached tone of the Just King.

"The library? That's really where you want to go?" Tobias asked, his tone full of incredulity as he walked her through the town.

It was Saturday. She had been in Narnia for almost a month. Time in Narnia had flown at a speed that was almost frightening, but it most certainly left behind a shadow in its wake. The moment of her arrival in Narnia was slowly becoming a haze, and her past life a distant memory. It was as though her two lives were bleeding into each other until the line separating them became erased.

The more time she spent in Narnia, the fewer memories she could recall about England. She nearly had a breakdown in the bathroom, as she was taming her hair when she couldn't remember who created the Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.

She, however, was determined not to forget who she was and what she was capable of so she'd begun to keep a diary that she kept hidden away in her beaded bag. She was a witch and living in self-pity and desolation for the past month, she had been pushing aside what needed to be done.

Her mission was quite clear: she was going to get her magic back and then she was going to find a way to get home. Harry and Ron may not be there for her anymore in that world, but she still had parents, people who she had erased the memory of herself from. She had left her parents behind not even remembering that they had a daughter and she was determined to return to them; if only to make them remember her again.

"Yes, the library. Why do you always have that tone of surprise?"

"What tone of surprise?" Tobias mimicked her mockingly.

Hermione gave him a look that told him that she was not amused. Over the month that she had been in Narnia, she slowly found herself being integrated into the Kader family like she was one of their own. The transition had been smoother than she had expected. The brothers had all but adopted her as their second sister, and Sally was just happy that she finally had someone to break up the testosterone in the household. She had also become quite good at reading them, and currently, she knew that Tobias wanted to say something to her, but was holding back (though that special talent of hers may be down to the years she spent by her male best friend's sides).

"Well, it's just, - what I mean to say is -" he stumbled over his words. Hermione, apparently, intimidated him and he was not the only Kader male who felt the need to succumb to her strict gaze.

"Oh just spit it out already," Hermione snapped, not nastily but with impatience.

"Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is - it's rare that people who have been in the ... slave trade ... to have much ... education."

Hermione froze.

" ... No, now, don't look like that. See this is why I didn't want to say it. Just forget it, it was insensitive of me," Tobias winced, looking very awkward and fidgety.

Hermione stared at him steadily, her heart throbbing at a fast pace.

"I wasn't always a slave," a half-truth, a compromise, she assured herself.

" ... Oh."

" ..."

"So, you were taken?"

Hermione looked at him with disbelief. She could physically feel herself digging her own grave with every question she answered.

"Ever heard the phrase, curiosity killed the cat?" Ironic, were the words that fell from her mouth.

"Erm, no? Should I know what it means? Why would curiosity kill a cat?"

"Never mind."

"No, you can't just say strange phrases and not explain them. You do that all the time, and it is frustrating! Do you know what it's like to not know what someone is talking about? No, don't answer that because I don't think I want to know your answer."

"What I was trying to say is that sometimes it's better not to know everything, just leave it be."

"But what has that got to do with a cat?"

Hermione shot him an exasperated look.

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Annoying? How could you call my charming disposition annoying, Her-mione? I'll have you know that the ladies love all of this," he exaggeratedly gestured to himself with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Hermione snorted, "Then they must have the brains of a dumb animal."

Hermione had picked up a few of the Narnian terminology quite quickly during her stay.

Tobias gaped at her, shocked before a grin spread on his face.

"You know, I have to admit that I was hesitant about you. Strange girl from the woods and all, but I think that we will get on just fine," Tobias said as he threw an arm around her shoulders.

Of all the brothers, Tobias had spent the least amount of time with Hermione thus far and so was still in the process of getting to know her. He pulled her into a sideward hug as they continued to walk.

"You're not like the other girls."

Hermione rolled her eyes but did not move to take his arm off her.

"I'm sure that it must be refreshing for you to speak to a woman who doesn't just giggle incessantly and bat her eyelashes at you," she said with a snort.

During her shifts at the bar, she had watched as the Kader men interact with other locals. They weren't frequent bar-goers from what Sally had told her, but apparently, their sense of nobility in wanting to protect her had encouraged them to be more social recently. She had, of course, been incensed (because she knew how to take care of herself!) but also flattered, so restrained herself from criticizing their inability to let a woman get on with her work. Plus, it was funny to see them loosen up a bit, but they were al rather hopeless when it came to charming women. On most nights, Hermione rolled her eyes as she watched women, the other barmaids, in particular, throwing themselves at the boys, tittering and lavishing them with praise in a manner that reminded her of Lavender Brown. The Kader men, though, sat on the edge of their seats, looking highly uncomfortable and perhaps even a bit retarded when it came to female interaction. One instant where Edward dribbled his mead as a pretty girl leaned over the table to talk to him; giving him an ample view of her cleavage, reminded Hermione so much of Harry's foolish moments in front of Cho that it made her feel forlorn and nostalgic.

Hermione jumped with surprise, knocked out of her thoughts as Tobias threw his head back and laughed. Hermione smiled at his infectiousness as she tried to stifle giggles of her own.

"Don't let them hear you say that. They'll probably tear you limb from limb," he warned.

"I'd like to see them try," she quipped.

Tobias glanced at her from beside her, looking her up and down in a way that made her flush slightly, "I have no doubt," he agreed.

She found herself blushing brighter. Tobias cleared his throat, as he too realised that he was quite apparent.

"So while we are on the terms being forward," Hermione's eyes widened comically as she misunderstood where the line of conversation was heading, "you wouldn't mind if I asked you about your parents?"

The relief on her face was almost laughable, though at the same time painfully wretched.

"No," she replied, frowning, it had been a while since anyone had brought up her parents.

Harry and Ron had carefully avoided the topic during their run. Her eyes clouded as she remembered, again.

"Sorry," Tobias murmured as he looked at her anguished face.

Hermione huffed, a tired sigh escaping her lips. "No, don't. I guess I need to get used to the idea that I will never be seeing them again."

Tobias cringed but did not say anything.

"My parents were nothing special per say, just your average man and wife I guess. They were both dent- erm, tooth healers."

"Tooth healers?" Tobias asked, looking befuddled at the idea. "Calormen is a weird place."

"Hmm," Hermione murmured, trying to sound as though she agreed, "I suppose the best thing about them," she continued, taking him off from his thoughts about professions that did not exist; "was that they loved me a lot. A lot. And now, they don't even remember me," she ended with a sorrowful whisper.

"What do you mean? How could they forget you?"

"Well, I mean, it's just been so long. I'm sure I'm nothing but a distant memory," she corrected her mistake, fluttering her eyelashes with annoyance as the excuse sounded weak to even her ears.

"Hermione," Tobias grabbed her by the shoulders, making sure that she maintained eye contact with him while he murmured the next few words, "no parent would ever forget their child. It's impossible. I'm sure, somewhere, wherever they are, your parents remember you and are wishing the best for you."

Hermione did not respond verbally; she merely gave him a tearful nod.

'Oh, if only you knew.'

"You're right, curiosity did kill the cat," he commented as they resumed their walk through the town.

He still wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but he was certain that he was using it in the correct context. It just felt ... right. No matter how alien it was. Hermione huffed a laugh, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hands as Tobias pretended not to notice; she mentally thanked him for that.

"You remind me of someone I used to know," she commented.

"Someone good, I hope?"

"Definitely good. He was a best friend of mine."

" ... Was, you said was. He's not around anymore?"

" ... You have no tact at all do you?"

"..."

"You're absolutely like him."

"What can I say, Hermione, us tactless fellows, are one in a million. You're lucky to have found two in your lifetime."

"I'm not sure if lucky is the word that I would use."

"No, you're right ... blessed is apter," he winked.

"You're ridiculous."

"And you love me for it."

"..."

"Well, not love me in a romantic way, well, I mean it can be if you want it to be ..." he peered at her through his peripheral vision, "... don't look so abhorred by the thought! I tell you, you don't know what you are missing out on."

"I'm not looking for any romantic relationships right now."

"I was just jesting Hermione," he snickered. "... what are you looking for in Narnia then?"

"There goes that cat again."

He just shrugged noncommittally at her and remained silent waiting for her answer.

"I'm looking to find myself," she murmured; she didn't need to look up to know that he was staring at her pitifully. Both of them spent a moment of silence in reflection. "... And a good friend," she added for comic relief.

"Well, you needn't look further," he commented, throwing his arms out wide; in a gesture of 'I'm right here.'

"Impossible. Completely impossible, you are."

"Come on Hermione!" Tobias laughed, pulling her by the arm, good-naturedly, as they reached their destination. "What did you want to read about in the library anyway?"

"Aslan. I want to know more about Aslan."

.

.

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Edited: 08/04/2017

A.N./ Chapter 4! I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! Again I wanted to take a moment to thank the lovely, lovely people who left a review: twztdwildcat, Royal Lemur, Comic Critic and Utrix, you're awesome!

Here's a virtual cookie for you guys (.;)!

Reviews are like cinnamon rolls.