Chapter three
Harry was dreaming. He knew this and he didn't care. Part of him knew that it was unhealthy to be reliving painful memories but he could feel their lullabies, gently coaxing him into its warm embrace. He gave in without a second thought He found himself flying on the back of Buckbeak with Hermione. It was a week before they decided to go back to the Dursleys. Back then, neither of them knew that this would be the last three months they would spend together.
Her hands were soft and ink splotched in uneven spats. He guided their hands through buckbeaks's grey coarse feathers and listened to her calm breaths as he guided them through the night sky.
He slid his left arm slowly up her arm to pull back her thick mane and leaned close. "I see you're enjoying this," He lightly teased, pulling her body closer to his front he could sense her body flinch before relaxing into his embrace.
"HARRY?" a very high-pitched squeal filled his ears. Opening up his eyes he quickly went to the bedside table and slid on his glasses to find a trembling 13 and a ½ year old Hermione with her wand to his throat. The tip of her wand seared his skin and he could smell a faint aroma of flesh burning. Hermione was angry.
"Did you-"She croaked, her eyes were slightly bloodshot, purple rings sunk deep beneath her eyes and her bushy hair fell in shaggy wisps around her heaving shoulders.
"Hermione…" he croaked, he coughed when she pressed the tip of her wand further into his throat.
"Did you use the time potion? " She questioned.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. How did…
He could see the last tangles of his dream flash before his eyes as Hermione spoke.
"Only with you," She whispered back, her cheek pressing against his. "It's only with you that I'm safe…"
Shaking his head, ridding himself of that memory he focused his attention on the thirteen year old Hermione. "Hermion-"
"DID…you?" her voice rose. "Professor Trelawney told me last night….that nutter," she rolled her eyes, "….had the neve to tell me that my BEST friend was following in Monsieur Chirac's footsteps. At first I didn't think of it. Rubbish If I must say…. and then I was reading Hogwarts a history-"
"Hermione---" He breathed….how did she know? He sighed, there was no use hiding it from her now…
"AND." Hermione continued, ignoring Harry's attempt at butting in. "….I find a small passage about how he created the potion to change the past only to be driven by his own desires and kill the woman he loved…"
"Hermione…let me explain…"
Realization dawn on her, her wand still poking at his throat he watched as her eyes widened in fear…shock? Wonderment? She drew it away and slipped it beneath her robes…her hands clasped her cheeks, pinching them slightly. "Oh Harry," she sighed. "What did you do…you know that you can't meddle with time…" her voice died in a scared whisper.
"As opposed to using the time turner…." He could feel his anger rising, eyeing her in disbelief. How dare she accuse him of meddling with time when she did it every day? However, he felt his anger subside when her face fell, smile turning into a frown she bit her lower lip…
"So it is true?" she waved her hand in the air….Her eyes were locked on the stained-glass silhouettes above him…she wasn't looking at him
"Yes, I was going to tell you sooner but you had your wand blocking air to my throat..." He wheezed, allowing air to filter through.
"Harry." Crossing her arms, finally, he sighed in relief when her eyes were on his. "Don't you know that it's on the top ten-"
He interrupted, "Banned potions…yeah," he clucked his tongue at her, pointing to himself "I know," He rolled his eyes, "….Snape told me…"
"Professor Snape…" Her eyebrows rose in surprise. He could hear shock in her voice.
He smiled wryly at her. "Yeah," If he closed his eyes he could still see her cinnamon eyes; still smell that alluring smell of peaches and old ink.
No, he chided himself, shaking the memory away like draining water from a sink. He forced her ghostly smile to dissipate, her whispered praises and fears to become mumbles and incoherent chatter until all he could see was a dark swirl of brown and black and a dull buzz. Raking in another shuddering breath he looked into a much younger and frail face, despite it flushed with anger he bit his lower lip from showing emotion. He could feel it bubbling inside him and he forced himself to not look directly into her eyes. He knew that if he did he would lose his resolve.
" …..in the other time…"he whispered, more of a reminder for himself then conformation for her, shaking his thoughts he managed to settle his eyes on her thick brown curls. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you," He wanted to keep this a secret for a bit longer but for some reason Hermione had this force on him, till this day he couldn't figure out why but he could never lie to her…however, he knew that he should start practicing if he wanted some things…to remain buried…... "But I was trying to get used to this----"
"Being in another time….having intimate knowledge of the world's possible outcome…" she filled in her librarian voice. She sat on the edge of the hospital bed, her body turned to his and he wanted to reach out and touch her hand. He wanted to know if this….if she was okay with this….he wanted to know how she saw through his façade. How she could look at him and he could feel his resolve crumble without any resistance.
"How…. did…." It seemed such a redundant question…how ….she just knew … "...you know…" Shrugging his shoulders he mentally kicked himself. It was a stupid question to ask…after all Hermione knew everything there was to know about magic. He always enjoyed those long nights when they were alone. No Ron. No Ginny. He could almost see her blushing face and feel her skin against his…. Just …..
"There had an expert translated from Chirac's diary…he mentioned it a couple of times..." Hermione filled in, her voice sounded higher than normal…only then Harry realised that this Hermione, although the same one he grew up with…was only thirteen…she wasn't the woman that he craved hugs from at night…she wasn't the same woman who will, Harry corrected…will be his conscious during sixth year during that whole potion book fiasco.
It took a simple touch from Hermione to shake him from his thoughts…a tiny tentative hand, with tiny ink smudges caressing his left jaw, leaving tiny black finger prints in its wake….she was looking right at him…her eyes wide and bright ….he could feel the inner wars start to break…. another minute and it will all be over.
'"its still me" He whispered, fighting tears, keep it together, he scolded himself. When her hand left his cheek he could feel how cold it really was in this room. He reached out, his hands skimming the thick cotton sheets to grasp her quivering hand, caressing it slowly he felt his heart tighten once he realised that her hand remained clasped in his, "I'm Harry but." He smirked, hoping that his smile would calm her nerves "…just a bit wiser…" He was waiting for her to roll her eyes sarcastically and say those words... 'Oh honestly' before shoving him away playfully….
But that never came…instead he saw something that he never expected to see in Hermione. Fear…
"Look," her eyes dropped to the floor, her hand moved from his and he watched as her arms covered her self like she normally did when she was afraid. "…I need time to think Harry" Looking up again at him she smiled but it didn't reach her eyes…His heart dropped and his mouth went dry. A horrible unexplainable pain knifed through him when he saw that she was lying. She was afraid. "….what you did was unbelievable and yet dangerous..."
"We had no option Hermione..." Harry bit back from lashing out….to vent his frustration about the sleepless nights he spent after her death. How he felt after losing his powers and what he had to do in order to survive.
"It couldn't have been that bad Harry,"
That bad?? He laughed at her innocence. That bad?? What…with you dying and me losing my powers….and what happened to Ron, London…the whole friggin world everything is just peachy… "……what drove you to come back…" She asked.
You….his mind whispered but he found himself saying.
"Voldemort," which was true, Voldemort was the crux of his problem.
"Harry?" he could see her breath hitch in her throat…" You mean…you-know-who," He could see her brow flutter in embarrassment when she couldn't speak the name. Shaking her head in disbelief, "But Harry…"
"Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey bussed inside from the front door; chunks of battered grey hair were flying loose from her typical tight bun as she moved towards Harry's bed, "Mr Potter is still recovering. He needs his rest!" crossing her arms she nudged her head to the front door and waited for her to leave.
"Sorry," She bit her lower lip, eyes falling to the floor. She picked up her things and turned to him as she made her exit, "See you around Harry..."
He wanted to say something, anything but words died in his mouth. He simply nodded and reassured himself that once he was cleared a full bill of health he was going to see Hermione.
_ _ _ _ _
Two days passed and even when Harry was released from the infirmary Hermione couldn't face him. Instead she spent day and night, when she wasn't using the time turner or polishing her essays for extra credit surrounding herself with textbooks in any shape or form that could help Harry and make her feel at ease.
This is bloody ridiculous, she thought, her eyes scanning the text "Knowledge of the Future"---it was a divination text (a subject that she had little faith in) however, she had to gain knowledge, anything to help Harry adjust to the time line. Looking at the spine she scoffed, this text hasn't got the W. P.A. G (the Wizard Publishing Authenticity Guild) seal of approval. Figures, Hermione slumped further into her swivel chair, groaning as she felt another headache brewing. All these textbooks don't have enough evidence to suggest that Divination, prophecies and time travel were even real.
How old is he? An image of his ashen face, chiselled cheekbones and green eyes appeared, making her heart skip a beat and her stomach quiver.
Hermione gritted her teeth, growling to herself. A few passer by stopped to glance at her before hurrying off. Great, she thought…now they think I'm a loon….
His hand, so soft and delicate encased hers as his green eyes pleaded with her….Don't think about that….
Picking up her quill she tried to distract herself, listening to the scratching noise the quill made against the yellowish paper. She only had ten minutes to kill before another batch of lessons started.
Voldemort, the sound of Harry's voice as he uttered it…it was filled with such….hollow emptiness....
What drove Harry to risk his own life to go back and change history? Didn't he think about breaking any rules or the dire consequences that came with changing time?
Obviously not….He can be so dense sometimes…and forgetful, Hermione sighed….also reckless…doesn't he know apart of her dies when he plays that dreadful game....Quidditch
Boys….
"Hermione," he whispered…
She could feel the emotion behind it….what was it? She never in her life heard him speak her name with such….reverence?
He seems so…Hermione bit her lower lip in concentration….bereaved, depressed? Tired?
She looked at her watch, sighing, she packed up her belongings. There was no use now---she had to get to class and she knew from the look of Mrs Prince's face she had outstayed her welcome today.
_ _ _
Her warm pyjama-clad body was flush against his, mumbling softly in her sleep, Harry was awed by her beauty. How did he deserve someone like Hermione?
He leant over and kissed her on the check, seeing her face flush he whispered.
"I know that you're awake..." his hands slid down to her waist and began to tickle…
He then found himself lying flat against his bed with a dull thud. Wincing he looked up and found Hermione on top of him, her shapely legs sprawled against his and he suddenly felt…very comfortable….
Eyes half open Harry fumbled for his glasses before pulling back the covers. It has been two days and his best friend hadn't said anything to him about what she felt…..leaning over to pick up his invisibility cloak from his truck he swung it over and began creeping out the room. Each step he prayed that she was still up just so he could find out what was going on.
He found Hermione in the common room, hunched over and straining her eyes to study her text. Harry slid off his cloak and ventured over to the neighbouring red velvet sofa.
"Hey," he said, yawning. He wanted to yell, scream Was I wrong….I risked so much to come back….Why haven't you spoken to me…why have you…
Hermione stiffened, not expecting anyone to be awake. She looked up, "Hey..." biting her lower lip, eye zipping from her open text to him "What-t are you doing up?"
He could tell that he made her feel on edge, and that bothered him. She was the only one that he considered to be -well----quite normal around him. She treated him like any other muggle or wizard-with respect.
I should've lied, Harry thought. At least, I could have kept her safe that way. But then I'll be lying to my self….
Plus…. he had no powers and the only way to stop Voldemort was help---lots of help and he needed...-
"Hermione, we have to talk about this…"
"What!" She hissed, " Harry there is nothing to talk about," She shook her head and ventured back to study.
Why do girls have to be so confusing? Of course there was a lot to talk about.
He stood up, strode towards her in two brisk steps, yanking her up with such force that she squealed, "Harry" before being whisked underneath his invisibility cloak.
"I have to talk to someone about this," he whispered, he needed to talk to someone about his game plan and he knew that Hermione could handle most of the issues he would dreg up. Well…almost…
Hermione sighed. "Alright, but allow me to put my books away…"
Harry nodded and helped her pack up her things. Harry groaned under the weight of twenty books.
He guided them (slowly) up to the girl's dormitories, standing at the edge of the staircase, he whispered, "Promise me, you'll come back," tilting his head down he gazed into her brown eyes. She softly nodded, pulled off the cloak, grabbing her things and slowly crept upstairs.
She's young, He thought. So am I…in body… In that moment he realised the hardship Professor Dumbledore had concerning the prophecy---- such a secret couldn't be handle well by a thirteen year old.
Hermione's not just any other girl; she's just….. Hermione…just Hermione…. He hoped she could cope with some of the information he will reveal tonight.
_ _ _