Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
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Hermione turned her head, her sharp eyes scanning every corridor and shadowed corner for any sign of approaching students. The soft murmur of distant conversations and the occasional footsteps echoed through the stone halls, but no one was near. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she took a deep breath and swiftly stepped into the nearest alcove, pressing herself against the cool stone wall.
With practiced precision, she reached beneath her robes and pulled out the delicate golden chain resting against her collarbone. The warm glow of the hourglass pendant shimmered in the dim light, tiny grains of sand glinting as they shifted within the glass. Taking one last cautious glance around, Hermione wrapped her fingers around the pendant and turned it over several times, her heart pounding with anticipation.
A faint, golden light began to swirl around her, distorting the air like ripples on the surface of a pond. Time itself bent and twisted in response to the ancient magic, and within moments, she felt the familiar pull as the world around her began to blur and rewind. Professor McGonagall gave it to her on her first day of term; it was a Time-Turner to help her manage her classes throughout the year. Her current priority is to remain unseen and to keep the Time-Turner's existence a secret.
She slipped a hand into her robe pocket and retrieved a pocket watch, its surface worn with age, the metal cool against her fingertips. An intricate crest was etched onto the back—one she had traced countless times since it came into her possession. Theo had given it to her on the first day of term, his expression unreadable yet gentle as he explained its significance. It had belonged to their mother, a treasured heirloom, and he insisted she should have it. Their mother, he had said, would have wanted it that way.
Theo had returned from the summer with several heirlooms, each carrying a history as old as the Nott family itself. Among them was a pendant, one that had been passed down through generations of Nott daughters—a tradition long forgotten, as the last recorded owner had lived over a century ago. The pendant remained with Theo, but the pocket watch had found its way to her, a tangible connection to a past she was still trying to understand.
A small, almost wistful smile played on Hermione’s lips as she clicked the watch shut, the soft snap grounding her. With renewed determination, she tucked it safely back into her pocket. Steeling herself, she discreetly peered from the alcove, ensuring the corridor was still empty before stepping out. Her pace quickened as she set off toward the North Tower, her thoughts momentarily shifting to Divination. There was little she expected from the subject, but after everything she had come to learn, perhaps fate wasn’t as far-fetched as she once believed.
"Welcome, third years, to the Art of Divination." Their professor, whose hair was even wilder than her's and whose glasses magnified her eyes, greeted them.
"Together—we shall cast ourselves into the future!" She cheerfully sings her words out.
She was wrong. Divination is a rubbish subject.
"You," Their professor gazed in a particular direction, while Seamus averted his eyes away from her—who wouldn't. "Must look into the beyond!" Her tone was gleeful? Cheerful? Hermione counldn't pinpointm
"This class is absolutely rubbish." She took her textbook, the Noble Art of Divination from her book bag. Ron blinked in surprise, as Hermione started settling into the seat between him and Harry. His brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to piece together how she had arrived without him noticing.
“Hermione—where the bloody hell did you come from?” he asked, glancing at Harry hoping to find some answers but he merely shrugged.
Hermione, ever composed, smoothed out her robes and reached for a book she had placed on the table. “Honestly, Ronald, I’ve been here the entire time,” she replied with an air of nonchalance, flipping open the pages.
Ron squinted at her, clearly unconvinced. “No, you haven’t,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes. “I would’ve seen you sit down.”
Hermione rolled her eyes before providing her answer. “Maybe you were too busy dozing off.” Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione cut him off with a pointed look. “Maybe you should focus your tea cup instead of prying on me."
Professor Trelawney moved among the students, offering them guidance with their teacup readings.
"Ah, my dears." Professor Trelawney stood before their table with a gentle smile. "Would you care to attempt doing the reading?" She looked at Ron, who is currently unsure if he should try and tell what Harry's fortune may be.
"Sure, Erm—" Ron carefully flipped through the pages of the book, his eyes scanning each illustration in search of a tea leaf shape that matched the one floating in Harry’s cup. His brow furrowed in concentration, while Hermione, seated beside him, subtly rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose, clearly unimpressed by the entire exercise.
Harry, meanwhile, sat in quiet anticipation, his fingers drumming lightly against the table as he waited for an answer. Across from them, Professor Trelawney watched with a serene smile, her hands delicately folded in front of her. She remained patient, as if certain that, sooner or later, Ron would uncover the tea leaves’ hidden message—one that might hint at the course of Harry’s fate in the coming year.
"So, um... Well— you're going to be—Well, er... You're going to suffer." He swallowed hard.
He's always suffering, what's new about it? She rolled her eyes as she waits for Ron to say somethimg further. "But, you're going to be happy about it. " He continued, biting his inner cheek.
Honestly, what kind of person will be happy about suffering? Clearly this class is shite.
"Give me the cup, my dear boy." She indicates the cup Ron is holding. "Let me have a look at—" Her eyes widened as she gazed at the tea leaves in her cup.
"Oh! Oh!" Her voice trembled slightly as she observed the tea leaves in Harry's cup.
"M-my dear—you have th-the g-grim." The cup slipped from her trembling fingers, crashing against the wooden floor with a sharp, splintering sound. Porcelain shards scattered in all directions, the remnants of the delicate vessel now lying in jagged pieces at her feet.
"The grin? What the bloody hell is the grin?" Seamus had asked.
"Not the grin you idiot!" Dean smacked him before correcting Seamus. "It's the GRIM."
"It is a very ominous sign for our world." Hermione quietly exhaled, composing herself before continuing. "It's the omen of—" After a moment's pause, she softly uttered the word. "—death."
A long silence filled the room; there were no sounds at all. Everyone became quiet the moment she mentioned death. It was a sensitive subject, particularly concerning Harry. By now, it's common knowledge that certain professors show him preferential treatment. It was quite clear, particularly after Dumbledore awarded them one hundred and seventy points, securing their victory over Slytherin in the house cup competition. This further intensified the Slytherins' dislike, except for Theo, who was revealed to be not only Hermione's closest friend in Slytherin but also her twin brother.
Hermione noticed that Harry appeared paler than usual. He seemed quite shocked by the tea leaves' prediction of an ominous death on his first day of class. His understandably frightened expression reflected his fear of impending death. Due to a surprising revelation regarding Harry's tea leaves that startled the class, Professor Trelawney ended the class earlier than it should've been.
"Honestly— divination is such a rubbish subject!" Hermione complained as they descended the hill to their next class, Hermione voiced her objections. "Harry, don't worry about it, you're safe. Besides, Ron and I are here with you, and we won't let anything happen."
"Hermione's right Harry, if someone wants you. Well, they'll have to get through us first. We don't maybe black is after you." Ron huffed.
Harry nodded, smiling at them. "Thanks," He sheepishly said.
"Now, Ancient Runes—that one is far more fascinating than Divination." Harry furrowed his brows as he picked up one and two together. "Hang on?" His thoughts drifted as he considered his assumptions.
"Ancient Runes is at the same time as Divination—" Ron then interjected, adding a few more points to what Harry had just said."You have to be in two classes at the same time."
"Honestly, Ron, do you actually think a person could be in two different places at the same time?" Hermione chuckled at Ron's surprisingly accurate observation about how she'd been managing her classes at the beginning of the week; she had promised herself to take as many classes as possible.
"Welcome to yer firs' day o' class, now turn yer books to page forty nine." Hagrid greeted.
"And how exactly are we supposed to do that?" Malfoy asked, rather irritatingly.
"Ye stroke the spine o' course!" Hagrid turned towards Draco, whose fingers were gently stroking the spine of the book.
"Just wait until my father hears about this oaf teaching classes." He smirked as the other Slytherins joined him in laughter.
"Shut it, Malfoy" Harry started walking toward him, his gaze fixed on Malfoy.
Malfoy, of course, being himself, has to make this class a 'Make Harry Potter do stupid shit because he provoked him.'
Hermione, of course, had stepped in between Malfoy and Harry, preventing them from doing anything reckless. It appears that Malfoy consistently attempted to goad Harry into doing sonething stupid. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her brother, lingering behind the large crowd. She shot him a pointed look, silently urging him to step in and do something about it.
Hermione's wand was directed at Malfoy, who approached, bringing their faces near. He smirked down at her. Hermione remained motionless, composed, and held her wand firmly, prepared to cast a spell if necessary.
"That's enough o' that from both o' ye." Hagrid warned them, giving both a stern look. Hermione discreetly put away her wand, with a slight grimace as she turned her back on Malfoy.
Hagrid cleared his throat, prompting the class to refocus their attention on him. A creature stood before them, consuming a deceased ferret. "This everyone, is Buckbeak, a Hippogriff, that he is." He smiled at the creature, looking proudly as he tossed another fresh, dead ferret.
"Ain't he bea'tiful!" Hagrid said, wiping a stray tear from his eye.
"Now firs' thin' you ought to know, Hippogriffs are very proud creatures." He paused, looking at each student before continuing. "Now ye don't want ter insult 'em— certain that it might be the last thin' ye do!" He cautioned each student before him.
Hagrid smiled as he stroked the hippogriff's feathers. "Now, who woul' like ter say hello?" Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at the thought of allowing a student to pet that creature. She quickly stepped back, as did everyone else except Harry. Only then did he realize he had been spacing out and hadn't noticed everyone stepping back.
"Well done 'Arry! Oh, well done!" Hagrid clapped his large hands together, beaming proudly at Harry.
Harry had taken a step forward— well, more likely got pushed by Ron. Harry gently bowed to Buckbeak, and she was surprised when Buckbeak returned the bow. The Hippogriff stepped forward, as if it might possibly lunge on Harry. In a moment of alarm and concern for her friend, she unkowingly took hold the wrist of the person next to her. Upon closer inspection, she discovered it was not the person she anticipated. A boy, taller than she remembered from the summer, stood beside her; his hair was a striking platinum blonde, and his eyes, a captivating stormy grey. Gazing into his eyes, she felt as though she's seeing the stars for the first time. Unaware of her gaze, the blonde boy cleared his throat, bringing her back to the present moment. "Oh—sorry." A shy demeanor, she gently released his wrist, her gaze averted, her thoughts still lingering on what had just transpired.
Oh good Godric, when did he get so handsome. She thought to herself making her blush for a bit. She spent the summer with him; however, he remained distant despite their proximity. Although she was present at the manor, he was completely unaware of her presence.
Oh ,gods am I blushing over Draco Malfoy? After gathering her thoughts, she refocused her attention on the present situation.
Hagrid carefully placed Harry on the Hippogriff's back, and the magnificent beast gracefully took flight. While Harry delighted in his flight with Buckbeak, the others were introduced to smaller creatures, such as flobberworms, which have uses in potion-making and will be quite handy.
Harry arrived, and Hagrid had to help him down from Buckbeak. Others gathered around, and some began petting the creature. She noticed Malfoy's smug expression; surely he was up to something, as usual.
"You're not that scary at all aren't you ugly?" He chuckled softly at the hippogriff as he approached it.
"Malfoy, don't!" Hagrid gave him a warning.
"Your just nothing but a big ugly brute," He laughed, but his mirth ceased when Buckbeak lunged at him. Hagrid swiftly moved Buckbeak away from Malfoy; her eyes widened in alarm as she immediately rushed to his side and assessed the extent of his injuries.
"HAGRID!" She yelled out. "He needs to be taken to the hospital wing, quickly." Her eyes showed a hint of panic, everyone was attentively watching her next move and reaction.
"Er.. Right, then, Nott—" Hagrid summoned one of the Slytherin boys from her year, who happened to be her brother. "Take Malfoy ter the hospital wing— and er, Hermione, come with 'em as well. Make sure ter let Madam Pomfrey know exactly what happen'd." He delivered his instructions with a serious demeanor, to which she promptly assented.
Just as she was about to leave, someone had grabbed her wrist. "Hermione are you an idiot?" She turned to see that Ron had taken hold of her.
"What now Ronald?" She struggled for a bit to remove her wrist from his grip.
"Are you seriously going to help out Malfoy? After what he called you last year?" She just looked at him. Ron always hated Malfoy; he envied him for many things.
"It's the right thing to do, Ron. Just because he said some words doesn't mean I'd let him... Bleed out." She said, before finally leaving and catching up with Theo, who was now dragging Malfoy.
"Hey!" She hurried over to Theo and a rather dramatic Draco.
"Oh, Hey" He exhaled deeply, somewhat breathlessly, before letting Draco go.
"What the hell Theo? Can't you see that bloody creature had torn my bloody arm off!" He whined ever so dramatic.
"But not your feet, so walk." He ordered, Draco dragged his feet, moaning in pain and clutching his injured arm.
"Are—are you alright?" She asked.
Draco looked at her, his face frowning. "Do I look alright to you, Granger? Do I?" He said angrily.
"I just—" She briefly tempered her concern for him, acknowledging the possibility of misinterpretation. "I was worried about how bad the Hippogriff has gotten you." She admitted not looking at him directly. Theo stared at her with a confused look on his face.
What? Hermione asked Theo through her facial expressions, of course Theo answered back
This is weird, He raised his eyebrows amused by what he was seeing.
WHAT'S WEIRD? Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, glaring at her supposed twin as he try to hide a chuckle.
You're worried about him, A stupid smirk had plastered on Theo's face.
You're an ass, you know? She subtly expressed her disapproval of Theo's smirk.
"What in Salazar's name are you both doing?" Draco groaned in pain. At this point, Hermione had flipped off Theo; she didn't want to continue this nonsense of a silent argument that they're having. Not that they were actually arguing but it was clear that she could as if hear or feel what Theo's thinking.
"Nothing that concerns you," She mumbled as she walked over to Theo's side; she didn't want to engage with Draco anymore, afraid her brother would tease her more if she did.
"What the hell Theo!" She angrily whispered at him, striking Theo's arm.
"What?" He grumpily asked her.
"What do you mean it's weird?" She raised her eyebrows as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"How the in Salazar's balls did you know I said that it's weird?" He argued, making both of them stop.
"First of all, brother dearest, your face says it all, and you make this weird stupid facial expression." She gestured her finger over his face as she makes a point.
"You look ugly when you make those faces, too," he bickered back.
"You and I share the same face, Theo." She hissed his name as she snapped her finger right in front of his face. She left him standing and tried to catch up with Draco.
The three arrived at the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey immediately came fussing over Draco, who was by now bleeding through his robes. While his bleeding isn't excessive, he is still genuinely injured.
Madam Pomfrey performed a diagnostic spell, revealing that he had suffered some broken bones. She felt a pang of sympathy for him; she knew how much he loved flying. She watched him practice every day that summer while she stayed at the manor. She would sneak out of her room and watch Theo and Draco practicing with their brooms. Seeing him fly happily made her dark days seem to fade away for a a few minutes? Hours?. Whenever she sees him smile, her heart melts, and it makes her want to protect that smile plastered on his gorgeous face, even if she finds him annoying and insufferable. At some point during the summer, her perspective about him changed. He isn't that bad; this year, she is determined to try and befriend him; maybe his perspective on other things would change as well.
Hermione explained everything to Madam Pomfrey regarding how Draco had gotten his injury.
"Well, he does have a few broken bones." Madam Pomfrey confirmed as she goes over with the diagnostic once more, "we have to keep Mr. Malfoy overnight to mend some of his bones, then we'll keep monitoring him and see to it that he heals well." Madam Pomfrey closed the diagnostic that was hovering above Draco and led him to one of the beds.
"I'll see you around Draco." Theo left Draco's bedside, and Hermione followed him.
"Hey 'Mione wanna bet on something?" A slow smirk spread across Theo's lips..
"And what would that be?" A matching smirk has been plastered across her face as well
"When do you suppose Draco might begin exaggerating his injury?" He asked.
"I would say in about a week." She was pleased to wager on it. "Given that Madam Pomfrey will be mending it, he'll heal faster."
"You're on!" They shook hands, agreeing to their wager on Draco.