The planning was going well. He'd been able to scout out her timetable by now, so he knew when best to strike. Avery and Black were on board, both more than willing to help him. All that was missing was the conversation with Nott to finally put his plan into action.
Before Christmas, he would make sure that everything was back to normal. Tom Riddle would work on his vision without distraction, while he, Rufus Lestrange, could finally prove to everyone that he was the undisputed number two.
oOoOoOo
Hermione couldn't help but feel like she was being watched. For the last few days, she had the feeling that several different people were secretly staring at her.
Her conversation with Tom did little to help. Whatever was going on inside him, he was suddenly as dismissive as he had been at the beginning. His behaviour hurt her and the fact that she felt that way made her angry. It was good that she had been invited to talk to her supposed uncle for the first time in a long time. She got so caught up in her relationship with Tom that she almost forgot why she was actually here.
Determined, she knocked on the office door.
Professor Dumbledore opened the door for her with a warm smile. It was only when she saw how friendly he was to her that Hermione realised how tense she had been. Part of her feared that he would scold her for making so little progress. Now that she saw his familiar, friendly face, she realised how absurd that thought was.
She relaxed into the chair offered to her while Dumbledore fetched a second cup for her from one of the cupboards. Once he had taken a seat and poured the tea himself, she felt ready to talk about the past few weeks.
"I'm not making as much progress as I would have liked," she began slowly after taking a first sip of the shimmering golden-brown tea.
Dumbledore just looked at her impassively, forcing her to elaborate on her worries. "I thought I'd managed to get Tom to confide more in me, but he's been strangely withdrawn these last few days."
Her professor folded his arms in front of his chest and thought aloud, "Is it possible that he guessed what you're up to?"
She shook her head with conviction. "No, I'm sure of that. He knows nothing about my true identity and he has no reason to mistrust me."
He looked at her with concern in his eyes. "Some wizards in his circle have asked a few questions about you this week."
Discomfort rose in Hermione. She could guess who exactly was meant, only the intention was unclear. "Was Mr Lestrange among them?"
Dumbledore nodded, but said nothing in reply. He just kept looking at her, as if waiting for her to explain what exactly was going on around him. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. "Mr Lestrange and some of the other students don't appreciate Tom and I spending a lot of time together. I'm pretty sure he's planning something, but I don't know what it is, and Tom doesn't take me seriously when I express my concerns about it."
Her future headmaster raised his eyebrows. "I wouldn't generally rate Tom as someone who worries about others."
As if he had hit her, Hermione flinched. Her gaze fell on the teacup she still held in her hands. Dumbledore was right. And yet. She had been so sure that Tom felt more for her by now. That he was interested in her well-being. That she was different from everyone else here.
Resolutely, she put the cup back. Dumbledore didn't need to know about her relationship with Tom, he only questioned it anyway. Much more important was the question about the time turner. All her plans here were irrelevant as long as she hadn't found a way back to the future.
"Have you been able to work on the time turner with Mr Flamel in the meantime?"
Dumbledore looked at her for a moment. She clearly sensed that he was unhappy with her and did not approve of what she was doing. However, she was not prepared to give in to him. His plans weren't perfect, as she, Ron, and Harry had painfully learnt, and at the moment he hadn't done anything about Grindelwald, even though he could. He had no right to judge her actions.
As if he could sense her determination, his penetrating gaze finally gave way to a warm smile. There was satisfaction in his voice as he explained, "Nicolas was able to reconstruct the spell we found. We are now able to cast a spell on the time turner so that it can retain its magical properties regardless of its form."
Hermione's mouth fell open. Dumbledore said that as if it was just a small fact in his search for a solution for her. Blushing, she closed her mouth again and leaned forward. "You have... you have found a spell that can turn the basic laws of matter upside down?"
Her professor also leant forward and rested both arms on his large desk. Shaking his head, he replied, "No, we haven't. That was the plan, but we both realised quite quickly that such a spell would probably have had a great effect and would change the research on the topic. Since you didn't know any such spell yourself and had the same laws in your head as we did, it was unlikely that such a spell would have existed in your time."
Slowly, he opened a drawer of the desk and pulled out the still-melted time turner, placing it between them.
"What you see here is destroyed matter," he explained. "The gold has melted and with it the glass. The sand has probably just leaked out and disappeared along the way. By all definitions, everything that characterised the time turner is no longer there."
Hermione nodded, although she still didn't understand exactly what Professor Dumbledore was getting at. "But it has obviously retained its magical effect. How so?"
"Nicolas has once again proven himself to be a true master of the elements," said Dumbledore with a grin. "The enchantment of this time turner is not tied to the shape of the entire structure, but to the shape of the gold. You certainly learn about the elements in Alchemy, don't you?"
Hermione nodded again.
"We found out that the spell to reverse the hours in the case of this time turner is bound to the special form of the element gold. It is active as long as the gold exists. This, in turn, is only possible because of the special chemical properties of gold."
Dumbledore now spoke in a tone that Hermione recognised from his lessons. He was no longer speaking directly to her, but as if a whole room of students were present.
"Many materials break easily if you put too much force on them. Some, like glass, break without warning, others, like steel, bend at first. In alchemy, this property is known as ductility. How much can a material deform before it breaks? The ductility of gold is higher than that of any other material. This naturally has an effect on the destructibility of gold. And that's exactly why Nicolas was able to bind the magical properties to the element itself."
Hermione's head was buzzing. She understood what Dumbledore was explaining to her, but she felt that she still didn't understand how the spell could be bound to an element rather than the form of the time turner. How did the gold know how many times the little hourglass had turned?
As she thought about it, it occurred to her that she generally didn't understand how a spell could affect an item in such a way that the item could have magical properties on its own. She knew it was possible, she could enchant objects herself, but she had never thought about how it was done. Now that she was suddenly confronted with the interface between science, which she had learnt as a Muggle, and magic, which she had learnt at Hogwarts, she realised that none of it made sense.
How could Nicolas Flamel create spells using the scientific rules of Muggles?
She shook her head. It didn't matter whether she understood it or not. All that mattered was that it worked or would work or had worked. She took a deep breath.
"In other words, all the problems of the time turner are solved?" She looked directly at Dumbledore as she enumerated on one hand, "The magical effect of time turner is no longer tied to the form. A fortification spell will be on it to prevent it from dissipating into nothingness when it carries me many years into the past. And a confusion spell will ensure that it affects not hours, but years. Everything for my time travel is settled, right?"
Dumbledore leaned back again and put his fingertips together. "That is correct. The how is settled. The when too, because we know that you will at least have your portrait painted. Nothing stands in the way of your return."
She should have felt relief, but instead Hermione realised that she felt nothing at all. What was the point of being able to return to the future if she was empty-handed?
How was she supposed to go on living in the future after everything that had happened to her here?
She would never see Abraxas again, because he was no longer alive in her time.
She would see Tom again - as a monster who had sacrificed his soul.
Far away, she felt the familiar blackness rising up inside her. Her fingers knotted together as she desperately tried to fight the rising panic.
"That's... that's good news," she whispered quietly, without looking up at her professor. She didn't want to be here anymore, she wanted to leave, to be alone, to pull the covers over her head in her room.
"I thought you would be pleased," agreed Dumbledore, either not realising how she was feeling or being wilfully ignorant.
With trembling knees, Hermione rose from her chair. "Then that's all there is to discuss, I think. I'd like to retire for the day."
"If you need anything else from me," Dumbledore said in a serious voice, "whatever it is, you know I'm always here for you. Don't be afraid to come to me."
She nodded hastily, then turned and literally fled from his office.
When the door closed behind her, she slumped against the cool stone wall. She could feel her heart beating all over her body, far too fast, far too hard. Tears welled up in her eyes and blurred her vision. She took a desperate breath, but no matter how deeply she inhaled, it never seemed to be enough. Dizziness and nausea spread.
Was this the time that told her she was no longer welcome here? The panic she was trying to fight down engulfed her completely. She felt nothing but this fear. Fear that she would die here. Fear that she would die now, in this moment. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in her arms and sank to the ground. She pulled her legs up and made herself small.
She wanted to go home, to her bed, to her room. To her parents.
Her parents, who no longer even knew she existed.
A loud sob escaped her throat. As if a dam had burst, more sobs followed.
She was so lonely here. So overwhelmed by everything. She longed for a friendly face. A simple hug from someone who meant well and wanted to comfort her.
She was just so alone.
