I named this chapter " bodleian" because I wrote it from the Oxford library where the films were shot, the Bodleian library! I loved this visit, it was beautiful, if you ever get the chance to go to Oxford don't hesitate to do a sightseeing tour, it's also where the hospital wing scenes were filmed!
I had decided to read the first title of a slice of book and to name my chapter after the title, so " " and "bodleian" for the name of the library :)
Another note: there is a small deviation in the canon in this chapter, all the Weasleys stay for Christmas, not just Ron.
Draco
.
.
Draco's eyes widened:
"Pansy? What the hell are you doing?"
She looked at him in amazement, as if this was something she had been doing every day for the past decade or so.
"I'm smoking."
"Since when?"
"Almost two months. You haven't even noticed?"
She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then took another deep breath on her white stick, which shrank slightly, and spat out her grey smoke again that made Draco cough.
"What the fuck is this thing?" he exclaimed, eyeing the stick she held between her fingers.
"Muggle cigarettes."
"Muggle? Since when do you care about Muggle cigarettes? Have you gone mad?"
Pansy shrugged again.
"I don't know, someone told me about it and I tried it, and I've been doing it ever since. Why do you care?"
"Why don't you use witch cigarettes?"
Draco had seen his father smoke magic cigars that stayed lit indefinitely, or his mother very occasionally take long pipes, much larger than Pansy's, and held up by a cigarette holder. The difference with the Muggle ones was mainly the smell, because the ones Pansy was smoking were disgusting. The smoke turned his stomach.
"Too expensive, and too detectable." she explained. Here, the students smoke those, because the teachers don't notice them as much." she said, putting it between her lips again.
"Still, you notice the smell." Blaise pointed out, wrinkling his nose.
"It's relaxing. Try it, you'll see."
She offered her open packet to the two boys who refused with a nod. Draco was flabbergasted, he had never seen Pansy smoke, it was a rather strange sight. Partly because it was Muggle, and she had always made it a point not to do anything Muggle, and partly because it didn't really look like her. He continued to stare at the white stick, which was shrinking as Pansy pulled on it, when she suddenly raised her arm to show him something facing them:
"Here, here's your booty call."
Draco saw Astra, who was sitting in one of the chairs in the room, with a friend of hers. Since that famous evening, they had never spoken again, but Draco was more than happy to. She had done him a favour, now they didn't have to pretend to be friends.
"She's not my booty call, my one-night stand in a pinch. Don't make a big deal out of it..."
But Draco stopped there, because the seat Pansy had occupied a few seconds earlier was empty.
Hermione
.
.
On Christmas morning, Hermione got up in a good mood, next to Crookshanks who had wrapped himself around her arm during the night. She thought about Hogsmeade, and the awful discovery Harry had heard. Sirius Black was her godfather. She shuddered at the thought, and even though Harry had digested the news since the start of the holiday, she could see that he was still upset. She hoped that Christmas would take his mind off it.
Crookshanks stretched, then sat down to watch Hermione unwrap her presents which were all at the end of her bed. Then she went down to the Common Room to see if Harry and Ron were there yet, and found Ginny instead letting out a shrill cry:
"Crookshanks!"
The cat looked aghast at being called out like that, but could do nothing but let it happen when the redhead grabbed him and stroked his head, babbling incomprehensible words.
"And Hermione." added Fred with a laugh. "Merry Christmas, even if your cat looks more interesting than you."
"I don't doubt it. Merry Christmas to you too. I see you got your Christmas jumpers?"
Fred and George proudly approached their jumpers, green and orange, and which they had obviously interchanged so that Fred had the "G" jumper and George the "F" jumper.
"Yes! You too?"
Hermione showed them the parcel from their mum, which had arrived during the night. For the first time, she too had received the jumper with a large letter H on it, hand-knitted in purple, with little hazelnut biscuits.
"Mum must have known you were staying at Hogwarts for the holidays too." Fred said with a smile.
"Or maybe she had an extra spool of yarn." said George.
"Either way, it makes me so happy. I love knitted clothes, my mum often makes them for me too."
She showed them the white cardigan she had received from her mother.
"Ginny, let go of that poor cat!" exclaimed George after about ten minutes.
"I'm sorry, he's just too cute." she said as she put Crookshanks back in Hermione's arms.
"Cute? He looks like he got run over by the Knight Bus." commented Fred.
He received two dark looks from Hermione and his sister and burst out laughing.
"Harry and Ron are still not awake?" asked Hermione.
"No, but you can go, I think I heard Ron laughing earlier." informed Ginny, who was also wearing her pink jumper with a G embroidered on it.
They played with Crookshanks again, hanging Christmas ornaments in his ears and a tinsel around his collar. Then Hermione went up to the boys' dormitories and heard Harry and Ron's rather loud voices.
"What are you two laughing about?" she said as she entered the room.
Ron and Harry were both bent over the foot of Harry's bed. Seeing Crookshanks, Ron reached under his sheets for Scabbers and put him in his pocket, shouting:
"Don't bring him here!"
Hermione laid Crookshanks on Seamus' bed and only now saw what had caused the two boys to shout with joy. At the foot of Harry's bed, was a glittering golden broom, which they were holding as if it were gold bars.
"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?" she asked as she approached.
"No idea, there wasn't any card or anything with it."
Hermione bit her lip as she stopped in her tracks. A list of dark magic Charms passed through her head, and the crazy face of Sirius Black on the cover of the Daily Prophet every day since the summer.
"What's the matter with you?" asked Ron.
"I don't know..." said Hermione slowly. "But it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, it's a really good broom, isn't it?"
"It's the best broom there is, Hermione." said Ron with an annoyed sigh.
"So it must have been very expensive?"
"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together." Ron said.
"So... Who would send Harry something that valuable without even telling him?" asked Hermione.
"Who cares!" replied Ron impatiently. "Can I try it on, Harry? Would you mind?"
"You mustn't ride that broom!" protested Hermione with a frightened cry.
"Not now!"
"What do you think we should do with it? Use it to sweep the floor?"
Hermione was both frightened and annoyed that they were so reckless. All they had to do was coax them with a Firebolt and they would forget about the danger Harry was in. That broom had to be bewitched, and maybe Harry was already infected.
She wanted to explain, but Crookshanks jumped on Ron to grab Scabbers.
"GET IT OUT OF HERE!" yelled Ron.
Ron grabbed Crookshanks by the tail, which angered Hermione to no end, and she tried her best to get her poor cat back. He finally let go, and Hermione picked up Crookshanks who was spitting. He curled up in Hermione's arms.
"You'd better take that cat somewhere else, Hermione!" yelled Ron.
Hermione stormed out of the dormitory, furious. She couldn't stand Ron talking about Crookshanks like that, let alone grabbing him like that to hurt him! All the good mood she'd had when she woke up had evaporated, so she decided to leave Crookshanks in the dormitory and go back down to the Common Room.
Ginny, Fred and George were gone, probably downstairs eating breakfast. Harry and Ron arrived in turn, but Hermione still hadn't got over Ron's kick, so they avoided talking to each other. Besides, Harry was still fascinated by that bloody broom, which was almost certainly a trap. Why didn't the boys ever pay attention?
At lunchtime, when the one Christmas table was covered with delicious food and gifts of all kinds, Hermione could only think of the Firebolt in the boys' dormitory. She knew that Harry or Ron would never want to tell a teacher about it, and would probably be offended if she told on him, but she was sure that this broom was strange and she wanted to make sure that Harry was in no danger. She sincerely hoped they understood that it was just for safety, as she headed towards Professor McGonagall, after lunch.
"Professor?"
McGonagall's bun was messier than usual, probably due to the firecrackers the few students who had eaten next to her had set off.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" she asked as she put her presents away.
"This morning, Harry got a rather strange Christmas present, and I thought I should warn you..."
"What do you mean?"
She looked up and watched Hermione with her piercing eyes over her glasses. Hermione took a deep breath. There was no way she could back out now anyway, McGonagall's eyes were now scanning her intently.
"A broom. A Firebolt, brand new." (the teacher's eyes widened wide.) "There was no card or name of the sender, and I can't help but think... What if it was Sirius Black? That the broom was bewitched?"
Hermione had whispered the name as if it was bad luck, but the teacher didn't flinch and nodded frantically, very seriously:
"You are absolutely right, Miss Granger. Better safe than sorry. Come on, let's have a look at that broom."
So Hermione made her way back to the Common Room, her heart beating unnaturally against her chest. She hadn't done anything wrong, she was right to be concerned for her friend who was being threatened by a dangerous serial killer. Yet she was far more afraid of their reactions at this moment than the potential murder attempt by Sirius Black.
Upon arriving in the Gryffindors Common Room, McGonagall immediately picked up the broom to examine it, and after several seconds, she took it with her to check that it had no spells imprinted on it.
From the look Ron gave her, she knew they weren't going to understand her intentions.
"Why did you go and tell McGonagall everything?" he asked harshly.
"Because I thought, and Professor McGonagall agreed with me, that this broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"
Harry and Ron did not look convinced. Again, she was deeply annoyed at how important Quidditch was to them, at the expense of their lives.
If she had known, she would have spent Christmas with her parents in Edinburgh.
Draco
.
.
The Christmas holidays had been more relaxing than he had expected. He'd once again received more presents than he could count, and had only opened about ten before giving up. He'd spent Christmas Eve and Christmas lunch with Pansy, Blaise and Theo, who'd stayed at Zabini Manor over the holidays.
By the time he returned to Hogwarts, Draco had almost forgotten his obsession with Granger. After getting a dose of his father's constant talk of 'impure bloods', he had regained the hatred and disgust he had felt for her since first year. He was now determined to denounce her, just to piss her off, or upset her. He hadn't forgotten that watching Granger lose his temper was one of his favourite activities.
So, the day after school started, he headed for the Library with a determined step. His aim was to tell her everything he knew about the Time Turner only to have her lose her temper and beg him not to say anything. He was sure she'd be there, studying at her favorite table, as she had every evening since September.
Draco had also noticed that Granger hadn't spoken to Weasley and Potter since he'd returned to Hogwarts, she no longer sat with them in the Great Hall, and had spent classes in her corner, glaring at them darkly. He wondered what had happened over the Christmas holidays, and hoped for answers.
So he arrived at the Library, confident and ready to go to Granger's table, when he saw her. He stopped in his tracks, shocked, and sat down at the nearest table, because she had done something he hadn't anticipated at all.
She had braids.
Her hair was parted in two braids, resting on her shoulders. Draco had never noticed how long her hair was, but now that it was styled like that, he realized how long it was. It was the first time he'd seen her with a different haircut than the one she usually had, which was loose and shaggy, going every which way and sometimes even tangled. It changed her face completely, it was disturbing.
It took him a few seconds to get used to the change. It was a bit of an overreaction, but nevertheless, it had him glued to the spot. He hadn't expected to see this at all, and more importantly, to be so surprised by it. Pansy tied her hair up all the time, sometimes with accessories like headbands or headscarfs, sometimes in elaborate buns, sometimes with clips. Draco was so used to seeing her different hairstyles (at parties, when he woke up, before going to sleep, in class...) that he didn't even notice it anymore. But Granger, this was really surprising.
He pulled himself together and stood up, trying to shake the shock off his face as he approached her.
Hermione
.
.
She let out the biggest sigh of exasperation possible as Malfoy approached her table. It was bad enough that she was having trouble concentrating lately, but if he wanted to annoy her on top of that...
"What, Malfoy?" she asked aggressively.
He had that mischievous smirk on his face that she couldn't stand. He could be so insufferable, even without speaking. To her surprise, he sat down across from her. She pretended not to be intrigued and frowned.
"What's with the haircut, Granger?" he asked, looking down at her braids with an evil look.
"Huh? Why do you care?"
She ran a hand over her two braids that Ginny had done for her that morning. She wasn't really used to having them either, but it was much more convenient for bending over to read and this way her hair didn't get caught in her scarf when she went out.
"Nothing, I just wanted to point out how ugly it was." Malfoy said with a smile.
"I haven't been interested in your remarks about my hair since October 1991, Malfoy. If you've come to insult me, there's no point. Instead, I suggest you go and work on trying to get back into the rankings."
"Are you that fascinated by my place in the rankings, Granger?"
She rolled her eyes, but avoided his gaze as she bent over her Rune Studies book:
"No. If your name was Nott, it would be more exciting already."
He seemed offended by this retort, but she still avoided looking up to check.
"What subject are you working on, Granger?" he asked in his drawl a few seconds later.
She let out another annoyed sigh:
"Look, Malfoy. I'm not in the mood to play your little game. Go bother someone else, I'm busy, I've got plenty to do and I've got enough problems as it is!"
"Busy, huh? You have what... five options?"
She felt her heart beat a little faster and did her best to appear relaxed. Hermione didn't answer, so he continued:
"Three of which are on Monday, right? Divination at nine, Arithmancy, and Studies of your degenerate kind?"
"Have you been watching me?" she asked impulsively.
Her smirk widened further. Just like that, he reminded her of first year Draco discovering that Hagrid was illegally harbouring a dragon, only a much bigger, and slightly scarier version.
"Yes, and I've discovered something, Granger. I know your secret."
She went back to reading her book to ignore him, but he must have seen that he'd touched a nerve because he continued in a whisper, leaning in towards her:
"Am I right?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy."
"I think you do. I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. About your golden necklace around your neck."
Hermione's breath caught.
"What necklace?"
"Stop it, I can see it from here. The chain you have around your neck. You shouldn't have braided your hair, your crazy hairdo was almost able to hide it."
"It's just a necklace my dad gave me for Christmas." she blurted out a little too roughly.
"Sure. So, show me the pendant? If your freak muggle father bought it for you, it must be completely unremarkable, right?"
"Don't insult my father." she gritted through her teeth.
"Yet you have no problem insulting mine." he retorted instantly.
He moved his hand closer to take the necklace, but Hermione instinctively stepped back, and he stopped his movement, as if he had just realised how close he had just come to her. He placed his hand on the table instead, and Hermione noticed that he had several rings on his fingers.
"Anyway, that explains why you look so miserable." he continued. "You look awful. I mean, no more than usual, but right now you look exhausted."
"I just work a lot. And I don't see why my busy schedule interests you so much, Malfoy."
"Because you're using a Time Turner." he said, suddenly blunt, as if he was losing his patience. "It's illegal."
"You're going completely mad."
Malfoy seemed torn between anger and doubt. She was sure he was weighing his theory every which way.
"No. I'm sure."
"And even if I did, why do you care?!"
"Because it's forbidden! Why do you, Potter and Weasley still get to do everything, without getting punished?"
"Because using a Time Turner would be silly to you?" she blurted out as she abruptly put her book down on the table. "Come on, let's be serious for a minute. You're just jealous that I can get such good grades by attending so many classes, so you made up this weird assumption that I have a Time Turner, which is illegal, just to justify my work. Instead of trying to convince yourself that I'm cheating, why don't you spend that energy working instead? Maybe you'll get past the top 50."
She gave him one last insolent, angry look before resting her gaze on the hundreds of runes spread out on the page of her textbook. Malfoy took some time to reply, and when he did, she could hear his anger tinging his usually slow and disdainful voice:
"You can offer all the excuses in the world to Weasley and Potter, Granger, but you're not going to do it to me. You can deny it all you like, but I know your secret, and I'm going to make sure it becomes public as soon as possible so you can understand what it feels like to be the most insufferable girl in England!"
He rose to his feet, creaking his chair on the Library floor, and walked away quickly. Hermione pretended to continue her reading quietly, but in reality she was very frightened. McGonagall had specifically warned her never to get caught with the Time Turner. Had she been careless? It was true that sometimes she had come close to going down the same road, but she had managed to avoid it herself each time. How would the students react if they found out? What about Harry? What about Ron?
Unable to help it, a tear rolled down her cheek and landed on the page of her textbook. How could Malfoy understand her secret when even her two best friends she spent her days with hadn't noticed? And he was such a jerk with his superior air and cruel smile! He knew she was afraid, and used it to his advantage, even when he wasn't concerned.
She tried to continue her studies, but to no avail. Besides, Harry and Ron still weren't talking to her because of that stupid Firebolt, and she felt painfully alone. So, she sadly put her things away and decided to go to bed after a long day.
Draco
.
.
Why was it that every time he spoke with this girl, he felt this uncontrollable surge of anger that tightened his throat and gave him a fever?
She was the only one who did that to him, and Draco fell into it every time without expecting it, all at once, making him tremble. He walked quickly to try to dispel it, without success. He'd had hundreds of fights with Pansy before, sometimes to the point of screaming because she could drive him crazy, but never to this point. Never had he felt so much anger, so much rage and the urge to let off steam so quickly.
He arrived in the Common Room still in a rage and looked around. Pansy was dancing with a cigarette in her mouth, which she had not been taking off lately. Even though it was Tuesday, there was still a party. He didn't feel like talking to her next to Daphne, so he looked around for Theo, who was sitting in an armchair reading, as usual. Draco sat down heavily in the armchair next to him without speaking, but Theo immediately exclaimed:
"Wow, what's the matter with you?"
He even closed his book, the ultimate proof of friendship that he didn't do to anyone, so he could listen to him fully. But Draco was so on edge that he didn't particularly care and just spat:
"Granger."
"What did she do now?"
"I confronted her, for the Time Turner. She denies it! She dares to deny, when I know full well what she's hiding. She's so insufferable, this arrogant, impure Miss-Know-Nothing who allows herself to tell me that..."
"What?! You told her?"
Theo had put his hand in front of his mouth in surprise, without Draco noticing.
"Well yeah, I told her!" shouted Draco. "Did you think I was going to let her strut around Hogwarts like that when she was cheating?"
"Draco! Why did you do that?" exclaimed Theo.
"Why did I tell on her?! Are you serious?"
This conversation wasn't calming him down at all, on the contrary, he was almost as pissed off as he was at the beginning. He clenched his fists a few times to try to get through to her.
"So you didn't understand anything about the books I showed you?" said Theo. "Time Turners are extremely rare, and kept safely in a secret room in the Ministry of Magic. To get one, you need dozens of signed documents, it's quite a procedure. It must have been a teacher who managed to get it for Granger, she didn't do it herself. It's not cheating!"
"But all this research... I thought you were as indignant as I was, that you thought it was unfair!"
Theo considered for a few seconds as he pushed his curls that were gathering in front of his eyes, then rested his gaze on Draco with a sympathetic look.
"I don't think it's unfair... I'm just... Impressed."
"Impressed?!"
"Yeah. Do you realize how much she's managing to do? Attend three classes at the same time? It's like she wants to test her own limits by working, I think that's pretty admirable. I wouldn't be able to do it if I were her."
"But all this crap about you wanting to outdo her?" pressed Draco.
"I probably never will!" he exclaimed with a grin. "But it's like a game, a competition, and I think the fact that she's ahead of me gives me the motivation to try and catch her. When I'm in the Library and I've been working for hours and my hands hurt from holding my quill or I feel like going to sleep, I look at her, and seeing her so studious forces me to keep going."
Draco couldn't believe it. He had thought Theo shared his hatred for Granger, but it turned out he was almost on her side. He let a few minutes pass and played with the seam of his jumper in silence. The music of the Slytherin party rattled the walls, but he was completely unaffected by it. After a while, he asked Theo in a small voice:
"How do you not let it... get to you like that?"
"Get to me?"
"Yeah. She's got a knack for getting on my nerves, but like, really. When I see her, I feel so much... hate."
"I know, mate. I know she drives you crazy." he replied, patting his shoulder affectionately.
Theo didn't understand. He could only see the surface of things, he didn't know the whirlwind of rage Draco felt rising in him whenever he laid eyes on Granger, or worse, whenever they spoke. He didn't answer anything, because he didn't feel like explaining it to her.
"On the other hand, do you want to know my new theory?" asked Theo.
Draco turned to his friend, who suddenly seemed overexcited. He showed him his book, "Day with a Werewolf."
"I think Lupin is a werewolf." he announced in a proud voice.
Draco almost burst out laughing. He had gone mad, there was no other explanation.
"I think you're going crazy, Nott. You need to put down your books for a bit." he said mockingly.
Theo shrugged, still smiling, and returned to his book. Draco, on the other hand, preferred to let the wave of anger pass slowly, concentrating on something else. Specifically, Pansy, who was dancing in the middle of a dozen Slytherin girls.
She was dancing well, moving her hips to the music, eyes closed, sipping her drink from time to time. She was still wearing her fishnet stockings, a black skirt and her white school shirt with no tie. She was beautiful, and Draco could see from here the twenty or so stares of the boys who were following her movements as he did. It irritated him. Not like when he was talking to Granger, more like a sort of protective instinct.
"Pansy's on fire tonight." he remarked acidly.
"Yeah, she's been dancing for two hours. I don't know how she keeps from collapsing from exhaustion." explained Theo, also looking up at the dark-haired girl.
"She's completely reckless."
The pitying face Theo had taken to arguing with Draco immediately changed to hard features. He frowned, and his blue eyes suddenly flashed:
"Hey. Leave her alone, she's having fun. If she wants to dance and drink, she's allowed to. It's normal."
Draco sighed and got up to go to his dormitory. There was nothing normal about this. Pansy wasn't the sort of girl who wiggled like that in front of everyone, or drank, or smoked Muggle cigarettes. She had changed, and he knew that more than anyone, because he knew her best. Theo tended to protect her lately too, even though he didn't know. Draco couldn't talk to anyone about how he felt. When he arrived at his dormitory, it was empty. He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor and got into the shower.
No one really understood him.
Pansy knew him by heart, but she would never understand what was going through his mind at the moment. Blaise never judged him, he was always a good listener and very good at giving advice, but whenever he mentioned Potter or Granger, he was quick to tell him to stay away from them. Draco thought he shared his hatred of Granger with Theo, but in fact he didn't. Theo was one of his best friends, but he couldn't anticipate what he meant, or understand the undertones, like Blaise and Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle had the same mentality about Mudbloods, but they were far too stupid to see past that.
He couldn't tell his mother, let alone his father, because he'd be punished, just for talking to a Muggle-born. He couldn't explain to anyone how he really felt. The anger that was much deeper than his friends imagined, the hundreds of emotions that were running through him. The fact that he was so flummoxed by two stupid braids, that he watched Granger every day, analysed her actions, her clothes, her schedule.
Everyone around him had changed. Blaise was sleeping with Hufflepuffs, Theo was reading Muggle books, and Pansy was smoking cigarettes. Had he changed, too? Had the aversion he had felt for Muggles before entering Hogwarts turned into an unhealthy curiosity for an impure girl? He felt as if he was contaminated, that he couldn't stop himself from going to her, from talking to her, from watching her facial expressions change.
The hot water from the shower was replaced by a freezing spray and Draco turned off. He still felt that strange mixture of sensations burning his skin, reinforcing that sick effect, as if he had been marked by Granger.
As he stepped out of the shower, he secretly hoped, a crippled part of him, that Pansy would be waiting for him in his bed. He could confide in her, at least a little, and listen to her voice as it reminded him of the comfort of their meetings beside the fountain in his garden under the stars.
But when he opened the bathroom door, he saw that his bed was empty.
Hermione
.
.
"Sit down, Miss Granger."
Hermione sat down in the chair across from McGonagall at her desk and put both hands on her legs to keep from showing her nervousness. McGonagall placed her quill in the inkwell on the corner of her desk and clasped her fingers together in a stern fist.
"Right. So, tell me, how do you feel?"
"How am I feeling?" repeated Hermione.
"Yes! How are you adjusting to this difficult pace of work?" pressed the teacher.
"Oh." she replied, placing an automatic hand on the Time Turner chain around her neck. "I'm fine, I'm a little tired, but I'm managing my classes and studies well."
"You haven't had any incidents, no one saw you?"
Hermione hesitated to tell him that Malfoy had guessed, but she didn't. She didn't know why, but he still hadn't made his discovery public, and she didn't want to worry McGonagall and risk having to return her Time Turner.
"No." she replied.
"Ah!" exclaimed McGonagall with a smile as she clapped her hands. "I told you Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter wouldn't notice. Well done, I can only commend your seriousness and dedication. And apart from your classes, do you manage to enjoy student life? Do you write to your parents often?"
"Yes, I do. I write to them every week." she said in a small voice.
It wasn't entirely true. She hadn't spoken to Harry and Ron because of the Firebolt thing, and she hadn't answered her parents' and Danny's letters since New Year's Eve. The only social activities she had were teas in Hagrid's hut, Saturday study sessions with Neville and dinners with Ginny.
"Very well, very well." the Headmistress said as she got up from her desk and went to open the door for her, marking the end of the appointment. "I just wanted to see where you were at, and warn you that we're starting to enter a more intense work phase with the arrival of exams. The teachers will be asking for more homework. Do you feel ready?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Good! Then I hope you have a wonderful evening and we'll see you tomorrow in Transfiguration."
McGonagall closed the door and Hermione took about ten seconds trying to remember what day it was. All this going back in time wasn't helping her at all. She finally realised that it was a Tuesday, because McGonagall was referring to their Wednesday class.
She decided to go and see Hagrid. Since Christmas, she had been going more often than before, both for herself and for him. She had spent the previous week researching Buckbeak's case. Since Hagrid had told them that the hippogriff was sentenced to death, she had used her Time Turner several times to devote herself to reading several court cases to try to clear him. At first Harry and Ron had helped her, but since they'd ignored each other, they hadn't mentioned it again.
She had prepared a big file for Hagrid with dates and explanations, so that he could defend Buckbeak in the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. She wrapped her scarf around her neck to go outside and shivered as she walked through Hogwarts park. The ground was covered in snow, so her feet sank into the powder with every step. By the time she got to the front of the hut, she was freezing, but luckily Hagrid had lit a fire.
"Hermione! Come on in!" he said in his big voice.
She sat down at the table and Hagrid busied himself with making tea. He was wearing a pink apron that must have been the size of a tablecloth. When he put the cup in front of her, she was delighted to see that it was cinnamon tea, her favourite. He also put down a plate of biscuits and sat down opposite her.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" he asked, frowning his bushy eyebrows.
"Yes, perfectly fine. And you?"
"I'm fine. Buckbeak is out playing in the snow." he said, looking out the window wistfully. Then he turned his head back to Hermione, "You look exhausted. Are you sleeping well?"
"Yes." she lied.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a full night's restful sleep. She nodded vigorously and Hagrid shrugged without retort. Then she pulled the huge folder from her bag and placed it on the table:
"I've been doing some research, and I've found some interesting cases that come close to Buckbeak's conviction. I think with this we have a chance of winning. I've written down several dates and cases that might help you show that Buckbeak is not a dangerous animal, and that Malfoy had it coming."
She opened the folder and explained at length what she had written to Hagrid, who nodded occasionally to show that he understood what she meant. Just as she was explaining the case of a hippogriff convicted in Ireland of pulling hair out of a girl who had come too close, he interrupted her with his gruff voice:
"Hermione... You didn't have to work so hard..."
"Of course I did!" she replied, placing an affectionate hand on the back of Hagrid's. "I want to help you, I need Buckbeak cleared!"
"Harry and Ron... did they help you with all this?" he asked, pointing to the thick folder between them.
Hermione bit her lip.
"Hm... No. They're very busy. They want to help you..."
"You did this on your own? Why?" cut in Hagrid.
He was both surprised and worried. She felt the tears welling up.
"Well... we don't talk much anymore."
"What?" he roared, dumbfounded. "How come?"
Hermione explained the whole Firebolt thing to him, then took a big gulp of scalding tea to stop herself from spilling the tears that were threatening. Hagrid had a surprised expression on his face.
"Hermione... Boys can be really stupid, especially for a sport like Quidditch." he said softly. "You did the right thing by telling Professor McGonagall about it, and I'm sure Harry and Ron will realise it soon enough."
That was the last straw. Hermione burst into tears, which she had been holding back for quite some time. It was a combination of exhaustion, loneliness, guilt and overwork that made her break down, and the fact that she still felt so cosy in that cinnamon-scented comfort hut had pushed her over the edge.
Hagrid consoled her in reassuring whispers as he patted her shoulder a few times, sinking her into her stool from the impact of his gesture.
"I'm sorry." she said, sniffling against the sleeve of her jumper. "I don't know why I'm crying, it's silly. I'm mad at them too, especially Ron. He can never see past the end of his nose."
"Do you want me to talk to them?" asked Hagrid, sitting back down in his seat.
"No!" cried Hermione. "Certainly not. It's okay, it was just... It's okay."
Hagrid didn't insist, but he was still worried, even as she resumed her lecture on hippogriff law. When the sun went down, she wished Hagrid a good night and went out into the snow again. After swallowing a dozen biscuits, she was not hungry at all, so she did not go to dinner and instead headed for the Common Room to get to bed early. She walked up the stairs, her feet frozen from the snow outside, and came across Neville waiting out front as well, freezing.
"Hey Neville." she said as she came up beside him. "What are you doing here? Aren't you at dinner?"
"I wanted to go by the dormitory first, but I can't remember the password..."
Hermione suppressed a sigh and turned to the portrait. It was Sir Cadogan who had been occupying the door to the Gryffindors Common Room now, ever since Halloween and Sirius Black's attempted break-in. And the knight tended to change the passwords every other day, which was quite annoying. She spent her time asking Percy for the new one.
"It's 'Pinecone', I think." she said to the painting.
Sir Cadogan began a long speech about one of the many battles he liked to talk about, but Hermione didn't listen to a word of it and instead entered the Common Room and immediately went to warm her feet by the fire. She began to read, but this time it wasn't about homework. It was about werewolves.
Hermione was now certain that Lupin was a werewolf, but she hadn't told anyone. Before they'd stopped talking, she'd been reluctant to tell Harry and Ron, but Harry seemed to have developed a real attachment to the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and she didn't want to cloud his judgment.
In the books she read, werewolves were all considered dangerous, associable, even savage. Lupin had none of that. Apart from his tired face and his repeated absences, he didn't give much indication of his true condition. Hermione might have been imagining things. But the Boggart had turned into a full moon when he stood in front of it in the first class...
While she was reading, several Gryffindors went upstairs after dinner and went to bed, or sat on sofas, chairs or study tables. Ron and Harry walked past her without a word, Harry just nodded slightly before going up to their dormitory. She felt her throat tighten. Even though she was angry with them, she hated it when they ignored each other like that, especially for such a silly reason.
Eventually, she went back up to her dormitory to go to bed. Lavender and Parvati were already there, sitting in Lavender's bed and leaning over books. It was the first time Hermione had seen them working.
"Hi girls." said Hermione.
"Hi Hermione!"
"Are you doing your homework?"
"Yes, we're already making progress on the Divination essay." explained Parvati.
"What?" exclaimed Hermione in amazement. "But it's not due for another month?"
Lavender looked up and Hermione saw that she looked overexcited:
"But it's so interesting! We can read palms now!"
"Do you want us to do yours?" asked Parvati, equally excited.
Hermione restrained herself from rolling her eyes and instead ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth, leaving the door open:
"No, I'm fine, thanks!"
"Come on, Hermione, it'll take five minutes! We're getting tired of each other's hands, we know them by heart." insisted Parvati.
"Really, it's fine." said Hermione.
She put on her pyjamas, and heard through the door the two girls whispering to each other. Hermione was sure she was talking about her, and her lack of interest in the subject they loved. When she came out of the bathroom to get into bed, both of her housemates' euphoric faces had turned into a grimace:
"What's wrong with you?" asked Lavender gravely.
"Nothing!" impatiently asked Hermione. "It's just... I don't believe in all that stuff. It's junk, fake magic. It's not even science, it's based on... Nothing. Haven't you heard Trelawney's predictions?"
"Yes, we did." said Lavender defiantly. "And we believe it."
"All right... do what you want, then." said Hermione.
She was aware that her voice bore contempt. She was too tired to spare her tone, or what she said. She thought Divination was stupid, and she was a little annoyed that the two girls were worshipping such an unreliable teacher in this way. Lavender and Parvati looked outraged, and quickly closed the bed curtains without saying another word.
Hermione lay down in hers. It was cold, despite the hot water bottle, and Crookshanks wasn't even there. She wasn't talking to her two best friends anymore, and she had just alienated the only girls she could talk to tonight.
Hermione gently picked up her wand, cast a silence spell on the curtains of her bed to muffle the noises she was making, and cried for many hours, clutching a pillow to her, before falling asleep from exhaustion.