Refractorily Yours

The war is kicking up.

Perhaps it’s the endless amount of time she has, or the loneliness of being in the apartment, but all news is bad news. Every single newspaper that she receives talks of more massacres, the latest one a muggle foster home. The front picture depicted should’ve never made it through out for respect for the muggles slain.

Heinous.

It seems a bit rougher here than her original. It’s all a bit difficult to stomach. At least during her war, Voldemort was more focused on them than the muggles.

She’s been being good. Staying hidden.

Crying, stressing. Losing a bit of sanity.

This is the sight Dale comes in to see.

Hermione, in her mania haze, left her door wide open. He walks in on a mad scientist. She stands at her chalk board full of papers and pins and diagrams, all of it neatly drawn but strewn up crookedly.

She stands there in the middle, blankly staring at her wall.

Dale feels concerned.

“Hermione…?”

She snaps out of it and looks at him, beginning to cry. Dale is not emotionally intelligent enough to handle a crying woman.

“Wait- wait.”

“I can’t wait!”

She throws her hands in the direction of her board as though this explained everything she was going through. Unbeknownst to her, her hands land on the badly drawn image of Ron’s cat.

Its features are disproportionate, whiskers looking more like clumped tendrils than actual hairs. In fact, it kind of looks like someone tossed a bundle of spaghetti, only for it to land on the cat’s face and get stuck.

Dale wonders if the cat may have been brown or if it’s just the spilled barbecue sauce that Hermione had delivered yesterday.

Dale is unsure of what to say. “It’s… nice. Very good… work.”

Hermione takes one glance at what he’s looking at. She takes the paper and crumbles it up in a ball, forming a makeshift snowball. She pelts him with it.

“Not that!”

She begins pacing back and forth. Dale raises his hands in a sign of fear.

“Perhaps, maybe… you should get out again…”

The once orderly Hermione has her clothes sitting in the kitchen sink.

“Don’t you people have anything? Am I seriously all on my own here?”

Dale rubs at his neck. “You-know-who’s followers have been attempting to break into our Department again, to no avail. It’s most likely that they think we’re holding you there.”

She sits down onto her spinning chair, the chair lever having been left on. Her weight slowly drags it down with a ‘wooshing’ noise.

“I think… I think I’ll take you up on that.”

——

Dale brought her back to the Department, one of the few safe places for her. Five minutes in and she can feel herself regaining a sense of self.

He led her through the endless maze of hallways, occasionally poking his head through doorways to introduce her. Of course, everyone was curious.

Not often being able to show others around, Dale was enjoying this. That is, however, until Hermione came across a certain room. The Time Room. She walked right in, face lighting up, eyes darting around and taking in as much as possible.

“Oh goodness, time turners!”

With the crowd that had gathered around her and Dale, Hermione became the new tour guide, getting carried away with her muttering, describing the basics of every different one she came across.

“Hermione… why do you know this?”

She gave Dale a side glance and ignored his question. She turned over the one she was holding.

“These are so fascinating. The potential of learning more about the universe is halted by the risk of extreme paradoxes. Just imagine the damage that could be done… altering the very fabric of reality. It could result in disaster, but how very tempting.”

Dale is sweating.

“Hermione, please put that down.”

She continues to pretend like he isn’t there. The time turner is being prodded at by her fingers. “Ah, I remember my first time turner.”

“Your first time turner, huh?”

A man is placed at the doorway, an elderly man, perhaps in his sixties, looks down at her with a quirk of his lips and an eyebrow raised.

“You must be our ‘little problem.’ Am I correct?”

Hermione places the time turner down gently, facing the man with her arms crossed. “I prefer the term ‘petty annoyance.’”

He walks forward, glowing in a holographic way, body filled with magic muggles won’t be able to recreate for decades to come. His form wavered and shifted in an odd display of translucent light as he held his arm out.

Thinking that this is an obvious joke, she swatted at his hand, only for her hand his hit his arm. He was solid.

Hermione had so many questions that none were able to come out of her mouth.

“You may call me Nox for the time being. I’m the current head of this Department.”

“Hello… my name is… I am… I am…” She can’t seem to get her words out.

After a moment, she is unable to contain her fascination, a barrage of questions popping out, completely lost in the moment and forgetting that Unspeakable’s don’t share their secret findings.

“It’s an anomalous anomaly that produces an abnormal amount of abnormal particles.”

“…Huh?”

She stares at Nox blankly. “Is it possible that you have managed to manipulate the HEF itself? Or maybe it’s something done to everyone elses eye receptors? Perhaps it’s the electric signals themselves…”

Nox simply laughs. “What department did you work in previously, Ms. Granger?”

“The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

He gives her a dubious look. “Seems a tad bit wasteful for a mind of your kind.”

She bristles. “Someone has to do it.”

He backs off with a hand out in front of him. “Hey, I’m not knocking you, but, we could always use more people like you around here.”

Hermione picks at her nails, flattered but unwillingly to admit it. “Well, maybe I can trade in your apology for some answers.”

“It seems we’re playing the waiting game here. This isn’t anything like your typical time travel case.”

She appears unsatisfied at these answers.

“What can I say, Ms. Granger, we’ve never encountered a case quite like yours before.”

“Well…” He looks around as if he is about to unleash a favorable solution. A bit of anticipation rises in her. “Well, we could throw you through the veil and see what happens.”

“…That was a very poor joke.” Her hopes were almost raised for nothing.

“Haah. In the mean time, let me take over your tour, give you a bit of the inside scoop.”

Hermione would appreciate that. She is not one to deny more information, especially some that would let her return home. Also, who would turn down a free tour of a Department that has no government overlook?

Nox releases Dale from his current task, much to his relief. He gestures for her to follow him as he walks back into the hallway, safely away from the Time Room.

He introduces her to more workers, sharing examples of previous time travelers they’ve dealt with and what their outcomes were. None of them were pretty.

He takes a bathroom break, making sure to leave her in a safe hallway with no strange and dangerous magical artifacts.

She would’ve been content to wait, that is, if Nox had returned within ten minutes. Her legs start wandering.

She takes in all she can, from the unique architecture to the odd magic imbued walls. It’s similar to Hogwarts in that manner, different hallways shifting to new areas with the wave of a wand.

Even the air feels different. It’s light and airy, almost as if you will float away if you close your eyes for too long. It’s otherworldly, ethereal even. This must be how Luna feels all the time.

She hadn’t realized just how far she’d wandered. In front of her is a giant wide door, covered with magically enhanced chains and locks. The chains themselves have been spelled so heavily that they glow, faint shimmers running up and down before disappearing, only to do it all over again.

She feels a strange pull inside of her. It’s calling, temping her. Beckoning her forward lightly, just like your dearest lost loved one welcoming you into the afterlife.

It exudes a sense of familiarity and nostalgia, alike the veil, but somehow not. It’s transcendental.

She feels possessed, her mind in a fog. She is the metal and it is the magnet. The pull is physical, her hand unconsciously reaching for the door before her mind can put a stop to it.

She almost touches it, only for a hand to grasp her wrist.

Hermione is jerked out of her daze, other hand instinctively reaching for her wand. She turns to the man who has a hold of her, eyes widening and heart rate increasing.

A beat passes. They hold eye contact. He is still holding onto her wrist, a bit too tightly.

His eyes gain a glint and curve before his mouth does.

“We don’t touch that door.”

The man stands there staring at her unnervingly, his figure covered by a dark gray robe. There is something ominous about him, her sensors going wild.

“I… apologize. I seem to have gotten carried away.” Instead of releasing her, he brings her hand up to his lips, pressing lightly.

She takes her arm from his grasp as he loosens it, feeling the urge to rub it clean. A chill runs through her, a similar feeling to a Hogwarts ghost walking right through you. He is engrossed in her, eyes refusing to move from her own.

“Hermione Granger, is it?”

His voice is deep and smooth, the typical Pureblood accent creeping out. As he takes a step closer, she puts a couple of feet between them. She keeps one hand in her pocket.

“I’m well known here, aren’t I? It’s only fair that I get your name as well.”

He chuckles an off-putting laugh, nothing discernibly wrong with it, but unsettling nonetheless. His head nods slowly. “Fair? Allow me to introduce myself then. I am Augustus.”

Her mouth outlines the name. She’s missing something.

“You should head back now. Here, I’ll guide you.”

Augustus offers out his arm but she refuses it, not caring if it’s deemed impolite. He simply looks amused, unbothered as though he expected this.

She follows behind him in the quiet hallway, only the clinks of their shoes echoing. She takes one quick look back at the door. The feel is still intoxicating, it holding some type of unseen power over her.

When she rejoins Nox, he is surrounded by a group of Aurors. They all stand there with good posture, obvious well trained soldiers.

“Ms. Granger, I’m sorry about that.” He gestures to the people surrounding them. “We have visitors, here for you.”

Nox explains that this is her ‘personal security’ team that will accompany her today. He wants to run some tests, and the Department doesn’t have quite what he needs. They need to head out.

Augustus has all but disappeared, a swoosh of a cloak in the distance.

She takes a quick glance through the Aurors. She has to take a second look. There is a guy with a hat covering his face. She squints.

No…

First, the Death Eaters. Now, James Potter has infiltrated the Aurors.