Chapter 26
“Oh Godric,” Hermione sobbed into the sleeve of his robes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. What am I supposed to do? How do I do—I c-can’t do this.” Her voice broke and she felt her friend’s arms tighten around her.
“It’s alright. It’s going to be okay, Hermione. I—we’re going to fix this. I promise.” He told her and she felt one of his hands brushing over her hair.
“But—but how?” Hermione pulled back to look at his face, her lip trembling as she spoke. “Theo it’s all gone and I’m going to have to restart. There’s no time—I-I-I don’t have time! I can’t do-do it. I can’t do it all, Theo.”
“It will be okay. You can do this, Hermione. We’ll fix it, don’t worry.” Theo's voice was calm, and reassuring. Surely, it was intended to be soothing and help her to focus, if Hermione had been listening.
But Hermione didn’t hear him. She couldn't. Her mind felt loud. Like there was a discombobulated orchestra of chaos sounding in her ears, drawing her attention too many places at once. And like all of the instruments were voises reminding her why she would fail. She couldn’t think straight, and Hermione’s head began shaking back and forth as they all clamoured together. No. Theo didn’t understand. He didn’t get it. She didn’t have time. There was no time. All her work. It was gone and it was ruined, and they were going to know.
They were going to know.
Pansy Parkinson was going to know.
Draco was going to know.
‘Stupid fucking mudblood. She can’t do anything right. She shouldn’t even be here. Can’t get her work done on time? The pathetic excuse for a witch can’t even breathe properly.’
And then Hermione couldn’t. She couldn’t breathe. How could she breathe? She didn’t remember. Not when they were all going to know. Her professors were going to know. McGonagall, who had said she was so proud of Hermione for her accomplishments first year, was going to know.
She would know Hermione was a fraud. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be a witch. And she was going to tell Dumbledore and Dumbledore was going to send her back. Back to London. Back to her muggle school, where everyone hated her too. And they would know. They would all know she’d failed. She hadn’t been able to finish her fancy boarding school education and she’d gotten kicked out. Sent back to her parents—Oh Godric! Her parents.
Mum and Dad, they went to Cambridge. Medical school. Both of them. How would they look at her? Their daughter, not only a freak, but a failure. She couldn’t even finish Secondary School. How pathetic. After they had bragged to all of their friends about her for so long, to be proven wrong?
What if they didn’t want her either?
What if they sent her back? Back? No one’s going to take you back. You can’t even remember where back is.
That’s right. She was going to be alone. Alone and worthless and—
“HERMIONE!”
She gasped for air and suddenly everything was bright. Too bright. When had it all gotten dark? She didn’t remember.
“HERMIONE!”
Was that her name? Someone was saying her name.
And then her eyes adjusted, and she was back in it. The stairs. The orchestra. The crying. The Theo. Theo.
Hermione looked up to see the boy leaning in front of her—when had she sat down?
“Hermione, look at me.” Theo said firmly, and she tried to focus, still struggling to take in air properly, but gasping for it, nonetheless. “I’ve got you.” He told her and suddenly Hermione felt warm hands cup the sides of her face. Two thumbs brushing down her cheeks for a moment, wiping at her tears. “I’ve got you, love. I promise. But first, I need you to breathe.” He said slowly.
“I c-c-can’t.” Hermione cried, trying to tell him she didn’t know how, that she couldn’t. Her lungs still gasping to take in air as she hyperventilated.
“Alright, do it with me. 1… 2…3… 4. In, love.” He whispered. “1… 2…3…4. Out.”
Hermione tried to follow him when he counted again.
She didn’t know how he did it. Hermione didn’t know if it was some kind of spell, but she listened as he kept counting for several minutes, following his instruction until he stopped.
When he did, Theo smiled softly and said, “Alright.” He stood up, and for a moment Hermione panicked that he was going to leave her alone, but instead he took her hand and sat beside her.
“Better?” Theo asked and she looked at him.
“Yes.” She answered back quietly, the word barely even a sound, but Theo heard it.
“Good.” He told her.
Hermione looked around them and realized they were no longer on the stairs to Gryffindor tower. She wondered how Theo had managed to move them without her notice, but she didn’t really care. She was just glad all of her House hadn’t been privy to her downfall.
“Theo?” She asked softly, trying not to show her nerves as she looked up at him.
“Yes?”
“How—how did you know to…” She trailed off, unsure of what to really ask him.
“How did I know what to do?” He asked and Hermione nodded. “How about we let that be a story for another night, yeah?”
“Ok.” Hermione whispered, not really feeling the emotional strength to speak loudly.
“Good.” Theo told her. He wrapped on of his arms around her then, holding her close. Hermione let him, leaning her head against her friend’s shoulder, and needing the comfort. She was exhausted. Hermione wasn’t sure how much more stress she could take, but as she felt Theo press a kiss to the top of her head, she felt some of it fade away.
They were silent for a while. And from the angle at which Hermione was sitting, she tried to make out their surroundings. They were in a window of a corridor. The kind that older students often enjoyed using because the sill in front of it was several feet deep and allowed for ample seating. Hermione had always preferred the library herself for studying, but sitting here now, she saw the appeal.
It was quiet, and as most students retreated to their common rooms in the evening, there wasn’t much of a concern for disturbance apart from the occasional passer-by. Hermione found herself glad once more that she’d run into Theo, that he’d been the one to help her.
“Hermione?”
She slowly sat up, not yet comfortable letting go, but still moving so she could face him when he said her name.
“Yes, Theo?” She asked.
Hermione hadn’t realized she was looking away from him, until Theo nudged her elbow for attention. “Want to tell me what that was all about?” He asked.
Hermione cringed. “Not really,” she told him. She didn’t really want to tell him why she had broken down. She didn’t want to see what he would think of her.
Holding Theo’s hand and sitting in the quiet with him, she could see that she was okay. That she wasn’t dying right now and in danger of everyone abandoning her. But that didn’t change how she felt. It didn’t change how lost Hermione was and how alone she felt in her own head. She knew from Harry and Ron in years past what they thought. She knew they thought she was mental. But that’s because they didn’t understand. They didn’t appreciate why it was so critical to her to prove herself every day. Being the top of her class was intrinsic to Hermione’s life, to her value, she didn’t want to hear another patronizing speech about resorting her priorities.
“Try me.” Theo told her and Hermione’s eyes met his. “I might be able to help.”
“Or you’ll laugh.” She muttered and Theo squeezed her hand.
“I won’t laugh.” He promised. “You said something was ruined. What’s ruined?”
She was quiet for a moment watching him before she spoke. “My—my work.” Hermione looked down at her hands, desperately wanting to fidget with them, but Theo held them captive.
“Your work? What do you mean?” His voice was gentle.
“I—I mean it’s all gone.” She stammered, her voice cracking. Hermione could feel her eyes starting to sting again as she thought about it. “A, a week’s worth of assignments. My entire project—the potions project, and—and my essay and all my notes from Runes and more and it’s all gone. He—he tried to fix it but…” She thought about Victor, how he had tried to help and instead made it so much worse. “It’s all gone.”
“Who tried to fix it?” Theo asked and Hermione looked up. His voice had changed from before. And while his expression was just as earnest, there was something in his eyes that made Hermione nervous, as though she might give the wrong answer.
“Um…Victor?” She told him, she wasn’t sure why she said it like a question, but she could see as something clicked in Theo’s face.
“Victor?” He repeated carefully and Hermione nodded. “What Victor?”
“Victor.” She shrugged awkwardly. “He goes to Durmstrang with you. He’s the one with the really short dark hair and the accent.” Hermione’s head spun with a combination of irritation and embarrassment at the entire situation. “OhGodric. I swear if I never have to see him again it will be too soon.
When she looked at him, Theo’s eyebrows had nearly collided. “I’m sorry. Victor? As in, Victor Krum?” He asked sternly. “The professional quidditch player?”
Hermione’s eyes practically bulged in recognition as the name clicked and she shook her head quickly. “No—no. Of course not! That’s the boy Ron’s been obsessed with all year. I—I think it must be the other one.” Hermione pulled one of her hands free to tuck her hair behind her ear as she laughed self-deprecatingly. “I’m not sure anyone could imagine a reason for a professional quidditch player to be around me, much less ask me for help studying.” She shrugged again. “It was definitely the other Victor.”
“Hermione.”
“Yes?”
“There’s only one Victor from the Durmstrang delegation.” Theo spoke slowly so her face had enough time to drop completely into shock.
“What?”
“There’s only one Victor who goes to Durmstrang that’s here.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Theo nodded.
“No.” Hermione shook her head adamantly. That couldn’t possibly be true. Because if that were true then… “I asked him if he sailed!”
Theo just looked at her, his face pinching a bit. “What?”
“Well, I—he and I ran into one another. I mean, I-I ran into him, literally, in the library and fell down—which is how the ink spill at first—” She added, distractedly remembering the entire reason for their conversation. “But I fell, and he helped me, and he said something or I said something and he said he wasn’t good on land and I asked if he bloody sailed!”
“He knocked you over?” Theo asked and this time his face really was pinched, and he looked concerned. Hermione shook her head though.
“Yes! But that’s not the point! I asked one of the best quidditch players in the world if he sailed!! How stupid could I possibly be?!”
“I thought you didn’t care about quidditch?” Theo asked suspiciously and Hermione glared at him, crossing her arms a little in front of her.
“I don’t care about quidditch. The entire sport is boring and stupid, but that doesn’t mean I want to come off like an idiot! I mean, shite.” She palmed her forehead as she grimaced. “Now it’s really for the better if I never see him again. I mean, I don’t even know I’m possibly going to make up for everything he ruined—I-I can’t even think about that just yet. And on top of it all, I had to go an insult him to his face! The world cup was this year! That’s like telling my dad I don’t know who Romário is after the finals! Except if I was also somehow doing it to Romário’s face as well!”
“Who?” Theo asked.
“Romário!” She said exasperated. “The Brazilian striker!”
“Brazil wasn’t in the finals, Hermione.” Theo insisted as if she was just confused. “They weren’t even in the semi-finals. They got knocked out of the world cup early. And I don’t know how to tell you this, but striker isn’t actually a position on a team.”
Oh, bloody hell, Hermione groaned internally.
“Football. I’m talking about football, Theo. My dad’s a muggle. Brazil quite literally just won the world cup for muggle football.”
“What do you—oh.” Theo stopped. And Hermione watched as his shoulders visibly deflated. Out of nowhere a silence descended between them that Hermione didn’t understand. Something had stopped him, made Theo freeze, but she wasn’t sure what. Theo was staring at her, but his eyes were distant and unfocussed. If Hermione were some kind of legilimens she’d imagine Theo was remembering something far away, though she had no idea what it could be.
“Theo?” Hermione spoke after a moment and trying to break the silence. Instinctively one of her hands reached towards him and grabbed his own. “Is everything alright?" She asked.
Theo appeared to blink back into his surroundings quickly. Hermione watched as he glanced around the alcove as though he’d briefly forgotten where they were. When his gaze landed on hers again, it was softer, almost nervous. “So, you—you watch football with your—with your er, muggle…dad?” He asked.
Hermione nodded slowly. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but her friend seemed out of it, so she answered honestly. “Yes, he’s a bit obsessed.”
“How—how so?” Theo asked, and then after a moment he seemed to think further and added. “In the way you consider Potter obsessed with quidditch or like someone who’s actually obsessed?” His lip had twitched up just the slightest and Hermione took it as a good sign.
“Harry is obsessed with quidditch. You both are. It’s all you talk about about.” She protested and Theo’s expression shifted to an almost smile.
“I can assure you that quidditch is not the only thing we talk about.”
“Doubtful.” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
“You’re not a fair party to judge that.” Theo insisted, shaking his head, though his eyes were light. “You hate sports. You’ll consider any talk about them to be obsessive, Hermione. As evidenced clearly by your judgement of this—this footer-ball.” Theo gesticulated with one of his hands proudly between and it hit her. Hermione wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but something about that look—the hit of a smirk on Theo’s face, combined with his movements and she was struck with the strangest sense of déjà vu.
She had no idea why. Hermione tried to remember if there had been anything in the two months that she had known him, but she was certain she’d never had any sort of debate with Theo before. And yet…staring at his hazel eyes and deep brown curls, even the splattering of freckles across his cheeks, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she’d seen him before. Maybe they had met somewhere, in some place? Briefly passed on the pavement somewhere in London? Maybe they’d known each other in some other life or dimension.
Hermione didn’t know if she believed in something as abstract as a multi-verse or anything—the idea was just the slightest bit too close to premonitions and divination for her taste—but there was just something so familiar about him. About Theo’s voice and his eyes, and even the cadence of his accent like it was different and yet also something she’d heard a hundred times before. It was the strangest feeling.
And then she saw something—or remembered? Or…it just came to her. Like a vision, but not quite. Hermione didn’t know what it was. But she had the strangest recollection of two people arguing distantly across a room, as though she were observing them. They were in a yellow room with tall windows, like the one behind her. And there was a man and a woman. The man’s face was covered in dark brown scruff as though he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and cascading down the woman’s back were long caramel-coloured curls.
The man was saying something in another language, Hermione vaguely recognized but couldn’t understand. He was smiling at the woman who glared at him while he spoke. And then he did something. And Hermione never would have found the gesture interesting or even particularly noticeable, except she remembered it. From just a second ago. She remembered Theo too, waving and crossing his arms in just that same manner, the smirk on the man’s lips, and the way he—Hermione faltered. And the way the man…
What man?
Hermione’s mind fell into confusion, and she unconsciously leaned over as a migraine began growing in her head. It was quick and out of nowhere, the pain. One moment she’d just been sitting and—and thinking and then suddenly her head felt like it was burning. Her thoughts became muddled, and she did her very best to focus, but Hermione couldn’t hold in her wince at the sharp pains that were spreading.
Then she heard a voice.
“Hermione?” Her name was spoken quietly, but the voice firm and immediately she felt two hands gripping her face and pushing it upwards. Hermione hadn’t realized she’d looked down, but now she was looking into the eyes of a very concerned Theo? “What’s happening? Is everything okay? Why—why do you look like that? What’s going on?”
“I—" She tried to answer him, but then found she didn’t know what to say. The pain receded just a bit, but when she focussed on Theo, Hermione felt even more confused. What had just happened? What were they doing? She looked around. Why were they sitting in the middle of a corridor window together? “I don’t know.” She told him.
“Your face.” Hermione felt Theo tilt her head to the side as though he were examining her. “You’ve gone pale. Why? What just happened?”
“I-I don’t know.” Hermione shook her head, feeling very unsure. Her eyelids felt heavy, as if she had been crying for a long time and had grown tired from it all. “Theo, where are we?” She asked.
“Where are we?” He repeated, his voice was firm, and his eyes grew stern as he looked at her. “What do you mean, where are we?”
“I mean—” She pushed down the lump that was growing in her throat. “We’re somewhere in the castle, but where? And why are we here? What happened to Harry?”
“Harry?” He asked, his frown only grew.
“Wasn’t he with us?” She guessed, looking around them. Hermione was beginning to worry. She couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten here or even why she was there.
“Harry wasn’t here.” Theo told her and Hermione looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Harry wasn’t here. We weren’t with Harry.”
“Where was Harry?” Hermione asked. Concern was mounting inside of her as she realized she couldn’t remember anything since she had left her Defense class that afternoon. Looking out the window, Hermione could see that it was dark outside—Had she even made it to the library?
“I don’t know. I’m not tracking him.” Theo said, shrugging exasperatedly before focussing on her. “Hermione, what just happened?”
“I—I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me.” She told him. And then Hermione pushed back from where they had been sitting next to one another. Her confusion was overwhelming, and a hint of fear was growing in her chest. Why couldn’t she remember anything? Why did this keep happening?
Hermione’s mind felt groggy and tired, and she desperately wanted to go find her dorm room so she could lay down—that usually helped—but instead her mind was focussing on one thing: Why was it that whenever she felt unwell, and couldn’t remember what was going, Theo was always there?
Hermione’s head hurt. She hadn’t felt this way in several weeks, but that didn’t matter. She was cold and tired, and her eyes felt swollen, and she wanted her friend. But instead, she was alone with Theo in an empty corridor.
“What?” Theo gaped at her, and Hermione’s emotions only grew. Fear, worry, concern, they were all taking over.
“What did you do?” She wasn’t sure what made her ask it, but before she could think she was looking at Theo afraid. Hermione had never felt afraid of Theo before, but even she couldn’t deny the connection between whenever this happened. Her voice was hoarse as she spoke to the boy, she had only known for two months. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?”
“What do I want?” Theo sounded shocked but Hermione didn’t care as she glared at him and continued to move away. “Look, I think it’s best we calm down for a minute. I don’t know where but there has definitely been some kind of miscommunication—”
“There’s no miscommunication about kidnapping and poisoning.”
“Kidnapping and Poisoning?” Theo’s look of surprise was almost realistic enough for Hermione to believe him. Almost.
“Stay away from me.” She told him, pushing herself to the end of the wall.
“How would I kidnap you if we’re still in the bloody castle!?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” She said, backing away and down the corridor.
“Hermione!” Theo called her name as he followed. “Wait a moment, what just happened? Come back!” He said, and one of his hands reached out to grab her, but she jumped.
“Don’t touch me!” she said. “I—I don’t know what you’re doing, or how you’re doing it—”
“What?”
“—If it’s some kind of powder—"
“Hermione—"
“or potion or I don’t know. But—"
“Hermione, please—”
“I am not falling for it again. Stay away from me—”
“Let’s talk about this!”
“And stay away from my friends!” Hermione demanded, ignoring entirely Theo’s interruptions as she glared daggers out of him. She didn’t know what happened, but she wasn’t an idiot. Her memory, her migraines, her problems, they’d all started when Theo arrived. When the other student’s game for the cup and suddenly Hermione couldn’t function properly anymore.
There were coincidences in the magical world. Things that usually would not have made sense to muggle logic, but this was different. The signs were too much. Something about Theodore Nott—No. Something Theo was doing was causing her lapses and Hermione was done not noticing.
Fury filled her, overriding all other emotions as she turned away from him and began walking in the opposite direction. She could hear him calling her name, but Hermione wasn’t listening. She didn’t care whatever bullshite he tried to sell her. She wasn’t going to—
“Emmeline please!”
Hermione turned around to look at him, and for just a moment she saw a look of abject horror cross his face before everything went dark.
----- ----- ----- -----
Draco was sitting on his bed with some light reading when the door opened. He’d grabbed one of the NEWT level Ancient Runes guides from the library before he left the castle earlier. A few weeks ago he likely would have chosen to spend his evening up in the Hogwarts Astronomy tower with Hermione. It hadn’t taken more than one afternoon together for Draco to know it was his favourite pastime. But that wasn’t an option for him anymore, and with Severus’s excuse to avoid the Slytherins on top of his already too productive work schedule, Draco was left with free time.
At least, he had been.
Up until his door opened and closed without anyone coming inside.
“Draco, I need your help.” He heard Theo’s voice before he saw him. The sound came from an empty space across the room, that is, until something happened and out of no where, Theo appeared. He was standing in the middle of their room, cradling Hermione's unconscious body in his arms. "I fucked up."
Suddenly, Draco wasn't all that concerned with Ancient Runes anymore.