Hermione stayed back long after the students had gone off to their remaining classes. She knelt down at her stolen copy of Hogwarts: A History. It was sufficiently dusted from having fallen so hard on the ground. The four makeshift wands were broken underneath it. Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw. All fell down with one strike of a stone, like dominos that weren't aware of how much they depended on one another.
Hermione traced her hand along the book before she picked it up. That was a rather impressive session, although she'd never truly admit it.
"Am I still in trouble?" a soft twang sheepishly emerged from behind her. Hermione didn't look back. She closed her eyes and bit back a smile before she turned around, trying her best to seem completely unaffected. The gentleman with the puppy dog eyes refused to release her. Jasper gently held out his hand to help her off the ground.
"Bit theatrical. Then again, most good lessons are." Hermione looked up at the handsome gentleman who greeted her with a lopsided grin. She ignored his outstretched hand and stood up on her own. The witch leisurely walked away. Jasper cocked his head to the side, grinned, and followed her back toward the castle. Miss Hermione could fake-sulk all she'd like, but the girl wasn't getting past him. Jasper knew exactly what she was feeling. He couldn't help but smirk at the brownie points he'd earned.
Wait a minute. Why was he smirking? He'd lost focus. He was supposed to be finding a way out of here; back to Forks. He was supposed to be apologizing to his Coven for having run away and apologizing to Bella for nearly killing her. Jasper definitely was supposed to be apologizing to Alice. He spent so many nights in a room with another girl. Worse, they discovered he had a habit of squiggling out of his clothes by sunrise.
Jasper had neglected those things, like any human with a new lease on life would. He was such a victim of his own happiness that he forgot about his purpose to leave. Against himself Jasper was more focused on things like custard pies, having to blink, sneezing, and feeling emotions. He loved the interactions of being affected and affecting everyone around him, naturally.
That was the day he began his journal of events. Jasper needed a way to keep track of what was happening, and to remind him that he needed to get home. When Hermione led them to the library he immediately asked the librarian for a few pieces of parchment. Hermione feigned disinterest as she held back her furious curiosity. She coughed and dove back into her books.
The first entry sounded something like this:
Got Turned back. Met a real witch. Now I live in a castle.
By the end of that week, Jasper's chicken scratch memoirs became much more interesting. It started with an interesting morning and the Forbidden Forest.
"Come on Jasper!" Hermione led them out to the Forest with a broom.
"Come on where?" Jasper slowed, wondering why Hermione didn't drag them to the library as usual. He raised his eyebrow, never allowing a single moment for it to fall.
"Not everything can be found in a book. I'd like to learn some things this weekend." Hermione laughed, enjoying making Jasper uncomfortable. For once the tables had turned. Hermione set a large broom on the ground and led them to a Thestral. The black horse with wings and white eyes huffed at them. It took a particular interest in Jasper, who was slowly backing away.
"You know horses. I don't know much about flying. We'll learn together." Hermione said encouragingly.
"No no no. That's no horse, Hermione. And this is no airport."
"Erm, its the closest we have…."
The rest of the entries, and their days together, went like this:
We rode a horse. Then we rode a broom. I'm not sure it was a horse. But that was definitely a broom.
...
This bed is shrinking.
...
Note to self: mail Jacob a mandrake.
...
No such progress. Though things seem to be progressing in unexpected ways.
...
Damn Miss Granger's ankle.
...
The bed keeps shrinking. Does she not notice or is she not saying anything? Should I mention it? But what to say?
...
Forks forks forks forks.
...
ALICE ALICE ALICE.
...
Yule Ball's tomorrow. Me and 'mione are chaperoning their annual prom. Or every three years prom. (MISS HERMIONE. Geeze, now I'm sounding like them.)
Ms. Hermione
...
ALICE ALICE ALICE. Yule ball's in about 5 minutes.
"Jasper? We'll be late for the ball!" Hermione distantly called out as Jasper shut the book of his makeshift journal.
The journal shut as the real story began. The one he couldn't bring himself to jot down in any sort of honorable journal.