As Friday was the last day before the Christmas holidays anyway, Headmaster Dippet allowed Hermione to stay away from lessons. She spent the whole day in bed, just as she had done on Thursday. She had only left her room to talk to Dumbledore.
She no longer knew what to do. Dumbledore was the only one who really knew about her. He was her closest ally, but time and time again she couldn't help but get annoyed with him. She hated the way he always preached water, even though he had drunk enough wine himself. What right did he have to always demand the morally right, good decisions from her when he and Grindelwald had planned to subjugate the whole world?
Frustrated, Hermione rolled to her side. She had clutched her pillow tightly between her arms and legs and buried herself deep under her covers. Every spare minute her mind bombarded her with accusations. She knew she was to blame for what Lestrange had done. She didn't believe in karma, but she had long reckoned that all the terrible things she had done by being close to Tom would catch up with her and take their revenge.
Only in the few moments that Tom spent near her did she feel safe and secure. Only then did her mind come to rest. It had done her good to hear that he didn't blame her. As much as she didn't want to believe Rufus, she had been afraid that Tom would turn his anger against her because she had failed and been defeated. But nothing of the sort had happened.
Tears came to her eyes. Tom was a good boy. She had felt it so clearly over the last two days. He had worried about her and comforted her. She had sensed that he had had no ulterior motives, but had simply wanted to help her. He wasn't a thoroughly evil wizard who simply enjoyed torturing people. He had a heart and he was showing it to her more and more.
When she thought of what kind of inhuman monster he would turn into in the future, her heart broke. Did the Tom she knew really want to go down this path? Would he really go through with his plans if he knew that he would be brought to the brink of death and then recreated as something that was barely human?
For the first time since she had arrived in 1944, Hermione wished from the bottom of her heart that she could stay here. Yes, she missed Harry and Ron and her family and all the familiar faces. She missed them so much that it hurt. But she knew, she just knew, that if she stayed here, everything would be different. She could work alongside Tom to ensure that the world didn't fall into darkness. That he didn't turn into a monster.
She was startled by a soft knock. Confused, she dug herself out from under the covers before calling out, "Come in!", croaking. The door opened and, to her even greater surprise, Aberforth Dumbledore entered.
She watched wide-eyed as her supposed father entered, closed the door behind him and magically locked it. When he turned to her, she detected genuine concern in his eyes.
"Miss Granger," he began, stepping closer to her bed, "I heard what happened. It would be strange if I, as your father, didn't turn up, so here I am. But even beyond that, I'm worried. How are you?"
Hermione could only stare at the other wizard. He was wearing formal robes, unlike when he usually worked in the Boar's Head. His hair was slicked back and tied in a small ponytail. He did indeed look like a decent father who cared about his daughter. New tears welled up in Hermione's eyes.
Not caring that she was only wearing a short nightgown or that she hardly knew this man, she jumped out of bed and approached him. She hesitated briefly, but when Aberforth made no move to turn her away, she grabbed his robes with both hands and buried her face against his chest. When he then clumsily placed his large hands on her back, all the dams broke. She sobbed unrestrainedly against his chest.
"Oh dear," Aberforth whispered, overwhelmed, "it's really bad for you, isn't it?"
Hermione just nodded. She stood there for minutes, clinging to this tall wizard, crying out all her tension, anger and fear. He let her be and just held her. Every now and then he murmured soothing words, but he didn't try to stop her from crying. Bit by bit, Hermione's despair dissolved, flowing out of her with every tear, leaving only deep exhaustion and tiredness in its wake.
When she could barely stand on her feet, she released herself from the embrace and crawled back to her bed and under the covers. Aberforth, in turn, pulled her chair from the desk to sit beside her.
"What happened?" he enquired cautiously. "I heard that you were assaulted, but I don't know the circumstances."
Hermione wiped her face with a sniffle. Perhaps it was good if she spoke openly about it. She felt that she could be more open with the younger Dumbledore. She took a deep breath. "I'm not particularly popular with Tom's followers. Rufus Lestrange, in particular, wanted to get rid of me because I was stealing his place as Tom's right-hand man."
"It seems to me that this group around Mr Riddle is not entirely harmless."
Snorting, Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's putting it very politely. They're intelligent Slytherin students who would be willing to do anything to gain power over other people."
Aberforth's blue eyes looked straight at her. "Then why don't they join Grindelwald? He promises power to all who follow his goals."
Hermione shook her head vigorously. "They want to be there from the start. They want to be important, the spearhead of the movement. And Tom despises Grindelwald. Even though their goals may be similar, he thinks that Grindelwald has done everything wrong that can be done wrong."
"So it's right for his girlfriend to be raped?" Aberforth's tone sounded mocking, but Hermione could see his jaws grinding tensely together.
She swallowed. His words hurt her, but they were true. She shrugged helplessly. "Tom didn't want that."
"But he accepted it," Aberforth realised. "He should have protected you."
Tears gathered in her eyes again, but Hermione swallowed them down. Her fingers clutched at her duvet. "He really didn't want this. As soon as he knew what happened, he did everything he could to save me. He saved me. He came and saved me."
The look in Aberforth's eyes softened. "And that's good, too. It's good that he cared about you. But without him, this would never have happened."
Sadly, she shook her head. "That's not right. Something like this happened once before, at the beginning of the school year. Back then, it was Avery who tried to ... who tried to rape me. It had nothing to do with Tom, because we weren't even together then. Avery just wanted to do it because I ... because I'm supposed to be American." A tremor ran through her body. "It was Tom who saved me then, too."
Silence spread between them. Hermione tried with all her might to keep the images away from her. Once again, she had been shown that she was weak. Once again, she had learnt that she was hopelessly at the mercy of men. Once again she had learnt that men liked to use sexual violence to prove their superiority. And there was nothing she could do about it. She was powerless.
"Miss Granger," Aberforth drew her attention back to him. "You are not to blame for what has happened. You are no weaker or more worthless than anyone else. In my time at the Boar's Head, I've seen a lot and heard even more. Men can be victims too. If a man wants to do evil to another, it is almost impossible to stop him from carrying out his deed." He looked her straight in the eye. The blue behind his glasses sparkled as he continued. "It's not your fault. You're not weak."
A loud sob escaped her throat, but no tears followed. Her whole body shook as she tried to comfort herself with her arms wrapped around her knees. Aberforth's words had struck deep inside her and released something. Tension that had held her body in a tight grip collapsed, leaving her defenceless. "I'm not a good person, Mr Dumbledore. I have done so many terrible things. I have ... I have caused other women to be raped. I've done so many terrible things. You have no idea what I have done."
Determined, Aberforth leant forward and took both her hands. "I can't take away your guilt. No one can. Whatever you've done, you have to learn to live with it. For some, that means spending their lives seeking forgiveness and sacrificing themselves for others. For some, that means talking to their victims and showing genuine remorse. For some, it means facing justice and accepting their punishment. But never," he emphasised seriously, "never does it mean that bad things and violence can be done to you and be seen as just. Just because someone does bad things doesn't mean that others get the right to do bad things too. That's not how our world works."
Hermione returned the handshake firmly. The older wizard was right with his words. She felt deep inside that she agreed with him. But she also felt that she couldn't let go yet. She didn't know how to deal with her guilt. Part of her was still convinced that she deserved everything that happened to her.
She looked at her supposed father out of tired eyes. "Sometimes I wonder why I sent myself to the past. Why did I do this to myself? Why did I allow that I would do my crimes to other people again?"
An indulgent smile flitted across his thin lips. "You are an intelligent young witch, Miss Granger. You know the answer to your own question."
"I would do anything to save our world in the future," she whispered more to herself than to him. She knew it herself, but it scared her to say it.
"And that is a great strength," Aberforth confirmed to her. "Megalomaniac wizards who want to subjugate the world must be stopped, at all costs."
With a sigh, Hermione ran her fingers through her wild curls. "I agree with you. We've already paid a high price. In my time. Even then, we all did things that were terrible. In war, everyone becomes a murderer. But here it's so far away. The people I meet here are so different from their future selves. It's hard for me to remember what they will be like in the future. It doesn't feel like war when I'm here."
Aberforth leaned over and put a hand on her shoulder. His blue eyes looked sad behind his glasses. "We, the people of this time, are also at war, Miss Granger. Not with those they fight in the future. But we are also at war."
She nodded. "Grindelwald. I know. And the Muggles are fighting their second world war."
The older wizard's lips twisted into a thin line. "I'm convinced that Grindelwald is behind the Muggle world war. We must stop him to save the world."
"Why is your brother hesitating?" Hermione's words were little more than a whisper. She had asked herself this question so many times since she had learnt that the famous duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald meant much more to both of them than the public generally knew.
Aberforth shook her head. "Don't ask me. He owes it to the world to finally intervene. Maybe he's afraid to admit his past mistakes and wants to ignore them."
"That doesn't sound like the Albus Dumbledore I know," Hermione protested. As upset as she herself was about her professor at the moment and felt let down by him, she couldn't help but defend him.
"The Albus you know never tried to subjugate the entire world either," Aberforth replied curtly. His features were hard as he looked at his own hands. Hermione was about to say something to change the subject when he finally continued. Without looking at her, he explained, "Grindelwald was the only friend Albus ever had. The only real friend. I don't know if I'd be able to kill someone like that if I were him."
"But he doesn't have to kill him!" Hermione replied firmly. She knew that Dumbledore wouldn't kill him, even though she couldn't say that, of course. "He only has to defeat him!"
Aberforth snorted derisively. "You don't know Gellert. He would never allow himself to be captured. No, if Albus confronts him, it'll be a duel to the death."
Silence spread between them again. There was nothing Hermione could say to that without giving away the future. She prayed that she hadn't done something that would lead to Dumbledore killing Grindelwald in the end. She didn't know what would happen if she changed time. At the moment, she hoped that everything went exactly as it always had and always would.
Groaning, Aberforth rose from the chair. "I'm going to let you rest a little now. If you wish, you are very welcome to celebrate Christmas with me at the weekend. You can even bring your friend Tom Riddle if you insist."
Hermione laughed against her will. "A celebration with the family, where my father can scrutinise my future husband?"
Aberforth also had to smile. "I think that would be very appropriate."
Hermione watched as the tall wizard crossed her room with long strides and disappeared. Even though she hadn't really been able to talk about what had happened on Wednesday, she felt relieved. Perhaps she wasn't so alone here after all. Perhaps Aberforth could be her confidant in a way that her professor never could.
