Greyline

Chapter 5.

Sleep did not come as easily to Hermione as she would have liked. She spent most of the next few hours tossing back and forth between her conscious state and living through old nightmares. 

Cold sweat clung to her skin, every time it made contact with the warm sheets her stomach would reel as she relived the feeling of Bellatrix’s blade sinking into her skin, the cool marble of Malfoy Manor’s floors pooling with her warm blood. 

The lines between reality and dreaming blurred and she was washed away into another nightmare. 

It was sixth year, that much she could guess from the murky images she was sloshing through. 

Light filtered through the dark shadows surrounding her and she reached up, gasping as her body hurtled towards a surface she didn't know was there. A single undistinguished silhouette followed, slipping around her as she sputtered for air she didn't know she had been lacking.

Hermione lay there for a moment, trying to make out anything familiar. The ground felt cold and rough as she dug her fingers into it grasping for something to steady her body and mind. Voices filtered through the air, sounding slightly muffled. Hermione strained to hear what they were saying, still too tired to move. She didn’t remember ever having lived through something like this before, but her eyes focused as she took more steadying breaths and took in the grays and browns of the outside corridor that led to Hagrid’s hut. 

She pushed off the ground, her legs strengthening with every step she took and followed the sound of the voices. She was surprised to see her own form sitting on the ledge of one of the open archway windows, her head leaning on Harry’s shoulder. Hermione watched her younger self for a moment, gazing at the wild curls blowing in the wind and the gentleness that surrounded the moment as Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her heart caught in her throat as she remembered what would happen next. 

She rushed forward, reaching her hand out to separate the two but all she touched was air, her hand glimmering through Harry’s arm. Her breathing sharpened and caught as she watched Harry’s body stiffen and the arm that lay on her other self shoulders tightened, drawing her in more. She could still feel it, even through whatever ghostly form she had taken on in this dream. She could still remember the feeling and the terror that was building. 

“Harry?” Her younger self turned to look at her best friend, her voice quiet with worry. 

“I - Hermione - I can’t fight him. He’s too -” Harry struggled to get the words out, his head shooting back to look up at the stone ceiling with a speed that was inhuman. 

As if he were possessed. 

Hermione walked slowly around the courtyard to face the two, taking in Harry’s pained features and her own painted with fear and anger. 

“You’ve got to fight him, Harry. You can’t let him in. You’ve got to fight.” 

Hermione watched the way her nose scrunched up and lips turned into a frown, her eyebrows drawing in as she looked at her best friend in a mixture of concern and fear. Harry was still wrapped around her younger self, holding on as if she were his lifeline. He doubled over suddenly, letting go of her and falling to the ground to curl in on himself. 

Sixth-year Hermione went with him, kneeling next to his shaking body and soothing a hand over his hair. Hermione walked closer, knowing what she would see but intent on witnessing it again. She stood over the pair, watching with bated breath as Harry scratched and clawed at his head, groaning in pain. 

“You’re weak.” Harry groaned, his eyes clenched shut. 

Sixth-year Hermione nodded and soothed a hand over him again. “That’s right Harry, tell him and force him out.” 

Harry’s eyes snapped open and he sat up swiftly, matching her in height. Hermione's stomach tightened and her chest panged as she watched the scene unfold. 

Harry’s eyes were red. A wet blood red that seemed to envelop his iris, leaving nothing that even resembled something human. Her younger self gasped and pushed backward away from her friend, but Harry’s seeker reflexes were too fast and he caught her wrist before she could get away from him. He held her there, tilting his head in a way that wasn't Harry, it was too predatory; too careful. 

A wicked smile formed on his face and Hermione cringed along with her other self. The fear she felt was palpable even though she knew how this would end. Hermione glanced around, wondering if she could break out of the hold the nightmare had her in. The area around them seemed too opaque, too concrete to be part of a dream. Her eyes caught on a figure-like shadow standing aways behind Harry but she could not find any features in it.

“No, mudblood. You’re weak. Weak in thinking you can save him.” Harry’s voice was warped and raspy, dragging out the vowels in his words in a slight hiss. 

Hermione braced herself for what would come next, knowing her younger self would draw her wand and blast Harry away and send a patronus for Dumbledore. It would be a sore topic between her and Harry for weeks to come. But the blast didn’t happen and she stood horror-struck as her memory morphed into something different. 

Harry gave a sharp tug and her other self jerked forward, her body hurtling towards Hermione’s until she crashed into herself and merged together. Hermione felt the fusion immediately, the way in which her senses became more solid and she could feel Harry’s hand still wrapped around her wrist. He had moved quickly too, now standing in the same spot she had been lurking in. 

He studied her for a moment, head tilting in that unnatural way again. He let go of her wrist and brought his hand up to hover over her cheek for a moment, ghosting his fingers as if to caress her the way a lover would. 

His eyes were burning into hers and she felt consumed by the red hue they gave off, making her think back to her own blood pooling beneath her. Her thoughts took a dark turn and she remembered the way it felt to send a slicing hex at Rowle and watch his blood trickle from his arm, his furious eyes meeting hers and realizing she had done it. 

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips quickly, an odd feeling of excitement making her mouth go dry with horror at the brief realization she had liked seeing the man bleed because of her. But the thrill still made her heart beat faster. 

Hermione refocused her gaze to meet Harry’s, searching for her friend behind all the blood lust that gazed back at her. His tongue flicked out like hers had, except his was thin and forked and he hissed with glee upon seeing the way she froze at the sight.

He stepped closer, bringing his face next to hers so that his lips barely touched the shell of her ear. She stared heatedly at the other side of the courtyard, finding she could not move away from him or say a word. Her thoughts were raging inside her though, anger burning its course through her veins. 

“Perhaps you are not as weak as I first thought. I can sense the magic, the power, within you.” His tongue slithered along the edge of her ear and down her neck as he adjusted his stance, slowly walking behind her. 

“I can taste it.” 

Hermione felt him gather her hair and move it over her shoulder, his chin coming to rest on her other. His arms barricaded hers and then she was moving, being shuffled across the courtyard to the little wishing pool that sat in the middle. 

“What do you desire…long for…need?” His voice seemed to fill the area around them, despite the words being whispered. 

A sharp pressure on her lower back made her wince and then she was falling, no, bending forward until her nose nearly touched the still surface of the water. She wanted to screw her eyes shut, block out the emptiness she knew she would see in Harry’s and wait for this nightmare to be over, but her curiosity won as she watched through the reflection in the water as Harry touched his wand to the surface and life erupted. 

Flames the color of bright, burning azul shot from his wand and danced across the water multiple times, circling and turning. She felt the warmth of them brush her face though they did not burn. 

“Power?” The flames took shape, her features becoming evident in the little wisps of light as a miniature her appeared, surrounded by a tiny army of kneeling bodies and a throne where she took her place at. 

That is not power, she thought. She wondered if he could hear her thoughts as he laughed, blowing out a burst of air that disrupted the flames and the stillness of the water. 

“Strength?” Her form appeared again, though this time moving with a speed and gracefulness Hermione knew she did not possess. She watched as faceless other people took form and started dueling with her, flashes of light shooting back and forth until she was the only one still standing. 

“Equality?” This time the flames took on a slow dance of their own, twisting and turning into each other until two people emerged. She recognized her unruly, flowing curls but couldn’t place who the other person was. The little figurines twined their hands together before settling down in a pair of twin thrones which overlooked a city. 

Hermione tried to shake her head, that no, none of that looked like anything she wanted. But there was a tingling emotion of longing that made her pause and reconsider her feelings. Did she long for power and strength? To be considered someone else’s equal for once? 

It was tempting, she realized. Perhaps it was the inviting warmth of the blue flames and the way in which they entranced her in their dancing, but she understood how someone could easily fall into his simple words and visions of grandeur. 

She closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths, not wanting to see the temptation he showed any longer. 

Twin pressures on her jaw made her snap her eyes open, Harry’s hand having caught her in a tight movement. It was not Harry’s face who she met in the reflection of the water, though. 

Tom Riddle’s dark eyes burned into hers, a soft smile twisting at his lips as his other hand came up and wound itself into her curls. She didn’t have time to react, or do anything, before he was pushing her head into the water, but her eyes never left his and it felt as if she were being pushed through dark space instead, the inky black of his pupil expanding until she felt drowned by him. 

She thought she heard him whisper as she went under, the words dipping smoothly beneath the water. 

“Accept what you are.” 

Hermione woke quietly, the ebbing mixture of fear and intrigue from her nightmare fading to a hazy memory. She rarely had nightmares that featured Harry, and just the picture of his face was enough for her to push the questions of why Tom Riddle out of her mind for another time. 

There was no thrashing or screaming out, just silent tears that leaked down her face and onto the cotton sheets. Her chest felt heavy and her limbs felt like they were covered in thick concrete, making it hard to try and get out of bed. 

She realized she was grieving and laid there for a little bit, watching the graylight of early dawn turn golden and start streaming through the high windows above her. 

Her hand raised without much thought on her part, and she reached out to the rays of sunlight hoping to grasp one and slip back to her own time. 

She closed her eyes for another few moments, imagining that she could hear Ron’s muffled snoring, since he always slept with his face in his pillow or Harry’s ragged breathing that had become normal to her, since he was always sleeping fitfully. She missed those small comforts, ones she had never thought about until now. 

She imagined she was just waking up to go heat up a kettle of tea and to sort through whatever breakfast items they had left, trying to put something semi-nutritious together. Ron would devour anything and Harry wouldn’t even tell her if it wasn’t edible. She missed them. 

They were a far and valiant cry from the two Death Eaters - former, she berated herself thinking back on Malfoy’s word - laying in the beds next to her. 

A small part of her felt jealous that they had each other. A bigger part of her, one that she kept tucked deep away, whispered that she needed no one, not Ron, not Harry, that she was capable and strong. 

Harry’s distorted serpentine voice floated through her head, strength being hissed over and over again. 

Hermione sat up sharply, rubbing her hands over her face. It would do no good for her mental well being to keep imagining she wasn’t here. And she didn’t want to think about her odd dream any longer, either. 

She dressed quickly, throwing on some black jeans and a soft cream colored sweater. It was the best she had and thought that soon enough she would be back in a Hogwarts uniform, so her odd choice of clothing didn’t matter too much. 

Her hair left much to be desired, the curls tweaking this way and that, the lack of luster proving she was in need of a good shower. She tied it back into submission with a red ribbon, smiling at the Gryffindor-like color. Her neck ached at the thought of hot water though, and she rolled her shoulders to chase the feeling away before dropping the wards around her bed and stepping out of the curtain. 

Two sets of jewel-colored eyes met hers the moment she stepped out. She raised a brow at the pair, surprised that they were already awake and ready for the day, sitting on Nott’s bed and seemingly waiting. For her. 

“Good morning.” She half-frowned, venturing a little bit closer. She did not like that they were already up. 

She roved over their forms, taking in Nott’s dark green sweater and black pants and Malfoy’s usual dark on dark combo. They must have transfigured their death eater robes. 

She met Malfoy’s hard gaze briefly, surprised by the anger she saw before he looked away from her to glance at the floor. She realized he looked like, well he looked rough. As if he hadn’t slept at all. Glancing at Nott again she saw the same purple bruises under his eyes and surmised that they had probably stayed up all night talking.  

Hermione contemplated for a moment, tossing the idea back and forth in her mind before twitching her hand out towards them and murmuring a glamor charm, watching with little fascination as their features smoothed out and brightened. 

Nott startled a bit, reaching up to touch his face as if he could feel her magic seeping into his pores. His dark eyebrows raised and he shot a side-long glance at Malfoy who’s glare she could already feel. 

“Well, Good Morning to you too.” Nott’s voice was slightly raspy, like he had overused it. 

“Aren’t you just a breath of fresh air?” He added, patting at his face again, a slight smile upturning his lips.

Hermione chanced a look at Malfoy, slightly stunned to see he had checked his emotions and was staring at her quite stoically. His jaw locked as if he were going to say something but thought better of it and just gave her a quick nod before looking away and standing up. 

Nott beckoned her closer, amusement dancing in his eyes as she hesitated. “You’ll have to get over your…” He tilted his head here and considered his words for a moment, “trepidation concerning us if anyone’s to believe our cover story.” 

She scoffed at him, trying to play brave and shot back, “Consider me shocked that you know a big word.” 

“You know what else is big?” He laughed, waggling his eyebrows suggestively up and down.

She half-rolled her eyes, stepping forward and opened her mouth to bicker back, a tingle in her chest making her realize she was happy in the moment. Malfoy beat her to it though and snapped the curtains shut as soon as she was close enough with a wave of his hand and reality crashed down on her again, its weight stifling. 

He flicked his wand across the area and she felt the usual wards slide into place. 

“Sit.” Malfoy gestured towards where he had just been, not even glancing at her as he turned to lean on the wall like yesterday. “If you two are quite done, we have more to talk about.” 

She could feel the irritation rolling off of him and gave a long pause as she fought the urge to snap at him. She swallowed the feeling and took a seat next to Nott, looking at him as if to say what a stick in the mud. All she got from Nott was a half upturn of his mouth but he didn’t share her look. 

Hermione sighed. “Malfoy-” 

She was cut off as soon as she began by Nott, who shook his head exaggeratedly. 

“Actually, it's Carrow now, Granger.” His green eyes shot over to Malfoy who was already grimacing. “His highness, Draconic Carrow.” 

Just like that the tension that had been building was dissipated into an easy chat. Malfoy shook his head although Hermione could see a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. At her questioning look he gave her a lazy shrug. 

“Theo was adamant that Draco Carrow didn’t sound regal enough.” 

She nodded slowly and looked at Nott. “And who are you impersonating?” 

Nott moved to bump his shoulder against hers in a gesture she found to be too friendly given their situation but decided against commenting on it. She was sure he could feel how stiff she was anyways. Hermione was still waiting for him to switch back to the serious and cold persona he gave off when he wasn’t joking around. 

“Theon Fawley, at your service.” He gave her and Malfoy a wide grin, showing off his teeth that Hermione subconsciously cataloged as very nice. 

She gave another nod, committing the names to memory. “Interesting first names… why not have fun with it though.” She gave a nonchalant shrug like Malfoy had. 

“Exactly. Who’s going to remember us anyways?” Nott said. 

Hermione felt a sense of premonition in his words that sent a shiver down her spine. 

She shook off the feeling and gestured to the two boys. “I suppose it would be better if I started calling you by your first names. I don’t want to slip up and have the respective Malfoy and Nott of this time breathing down my neck.” 

Nott- no Theo -shook his head in agreement, his curls bouncing the tiniest bit. Draco didn’t look as enthused, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at her with that blank look again. 

The friendliness in the room seemed to drop. 

“Don’t expect the same treatment, Granger.”  His voice was low and deceivingly soft. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything more from you, Draco.” 

She bit out his name but tried to keep her tone polite, not wanting to play this game with him. 

“Although,” Hermione snapped her fingers as if a thought had suddenly occurred to her. “I do expect a vow from you. Right now, in fact. To ensure your allegiance. I don’t want to have to go to Dumbledore and tell him you really didn’t defect.” 

She hated bringing up the one thing she could hold over their heads. 

“There’s no need for threats.” He murmured.

She watched his face carefully, taking in the way he pressed his lips together and bounced his eyes between hers. Hermione held his stare without blinking. She knew he was trying to figure out exactly what kind of vow she wanted and what it would entail, and this time she was ready for any prickles of legilimency. 

He didn’t try though and moved his gaze to look at Theo, who was already staring back at him, forehead crinkled in thought. She wondered if they could have conversations without talking like her and Harry could, always being in tune with the other’s thought process. It was the kind of platonic intimacy that made their friendship stronger and something that Ron had always loathed. 

The silence stretched for a few more moments but she was content to let it linger. When Draco looked back at her, his lips pursed in what she hoped was acquiescence. 

“What are your terms?” There was no snark behind his quiet timbre and she gave him a reassessing once over. 

His stance hadn’t changed, his arms still crossed neatly over his chest. But she noted a new stiffness in the way he held himself, as if he had to force himself to stay poised and cool. 

She swallowed, taking a deep breath. She hadn’t thought she would get this far this easily. Saying her conditions would be a lot harder though as she did not think for one moment that Draco would agree. 

“I want an unbreakable vow.” She started. 

Theo made a noise that came from the back of his throat and cleared it with a harsh grunt. “Sorry just uh - “ 

She cut him off and ignored him, looking Draco dead in the eye so he knew she was serious. Hermione knew what she was asking for, Unbreakable vows were the most binding out there and if Draco did not uphold his end, he would die. 

“The conditions being one, that you will value and equate my life to and as you do Theo’s until we are back in our time and two, that you won’t willingly reveal our secrets or betray me.” 

She had thought about the exact wording for some time, wanting to be sure it left enough room but not too much. Hermione couldn’t ignore the lingering hiss of words in her mind, either, equality slithering around behind her eyes and over her tongue as she demanded he value her life as he would Theo’s. 

She twitched her head briefly, banishing the feeling. 

If they were to get into the playing field with a young Voldemort she did not put it past him to use unsavory tactics of getting information. It would be cruel to uphold Draco to things she knew may not be possible. 

He was staring at her as if she had just sentenced him to death, though. It wasn’t a big tell but the way his eyes tightened and mouth flipped down, she knew she had dropped the proverbial bomb on him. 

She was curious to know if he really had expected anything less than what she offered to him. 

His eyes glinted silver, reminding her of the Unbreakable Vow’s wisps of magic, before they flashed over to Theo. She glanced at the other boy too, turning slightly to take away from the force of utter cold that was emanating from Draco currently. The change in him had happened quickly. 

Sometimes he seemed like nothing but cold fire, with pale flames flickering in his eyes. 

She felt Theo stiffen next to her as she laid out the offer. And if Draco was comparable to the rage of a wicked flame so hot it burned cold, then Theo was the whipping wind that only made the fire higher and brighter. 

Wind that could be so gentle and soft, tickling skin and breezing by with a soft caress, then dancing and flicking in a playful way, to turning into cutting gusts that picked up everything around it, feeding the flames with its power. 

Hermione pondered if she had made a mistake. 

She did not dare speak, to draw attention back to herself and the gravity of what she had asked.

Theo stood up quite suddenly, making her twitch her hand towards her wand. He shot her a scathing look, one that she wasn’t prepared to see from him.

“Did you really think I was going to hurt you?” He shook his head in disgust. 

“I know what I am and who I am to you, Granger, but… things are different now.” The air around them seemed to deflate with his shoulders, the tension dropping slightly. 

The wind she compared him to in her mind felt ebbing and slow and she felt like a leaf floating along slowly. Each breath she took was measured in slow inhales and exhales and she was afraid to disturb the sudden peace that permeated the air. 

Draco seemed to thaw out as well, as if Theo’s acknowledgment of amity was what he needed to let his guard down for the moment. Theo held out his hand to her, she only stared up at him for a second before taking it and allowing him to pull her to her feet. 

There was a buzz in the air that touched her skin and made it tingle with anticipation. Draco was staring at her right hand and she realized it was now or never. 

Their thoughts had to have been linked up in that moment because he met her gaze and nodded firmly. “I agree to those terms. Theo will be the binder.” 

Hermione almost wanted to burst out laughing and say who else but she held the hysterical giggles in, knowing it was just the adrenaline spiking her blood that made her feel the exhilaration of what they were about to do. Going forth, there was no going back. 

Instead she murmured a quiet okay and stepped in front of him, Theo coming to stand on the side. She took in a deep breath and gave Draco one more look over, she found no cracks in his determined face though and held out her hand. She hoped she looked just as focused as he did, for her stomach was doing somersaults. 

The moment their skin touched and she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist, this time with a firm gentleness, the air electrified and Hermione thought she could feel his magic crash against hers. She looked up at him to find he was already studying her, surprise leaking through his calm gaze. He had felt it too, then. 

“Ready?” Theo’s voice was steadier than she felt. 

“Wait.” 

She was slowly learning that Draco was a man of few words, always choosing them carefully. The weight with which he just spoke, the quiet power made her pause and consider him in a new light. 

Whereas Theo seemed to have a lot of layers, bouncing between flirtatious and positive to cool and serious, Draco was more simple. He said what he wanted to say and only showed little bits and pieces of who he was, when he wanted to. Although Hermione could always feel his magic and emotion. 

“Granger, since I’m quite literally putting my neck on the line for you, I only ask for one thing in return. A token of trust, if you will.” He was staring at her intently, judging her reaction. 

She nodded for him to continue, having expected him to make some sort of deal. She held her breath, not wanting to miss a single word.

“At any time, for any reason, I will be able to collect a favor from you.” He paused to flick his eyes around her face. “This could be an action, a question, anything. ” 

Hermione didn’t respond right away, exhaling slowly as she took in his request. Theo was silent as well, seeming to recognize she needed to think. 

“I will call and you will come kind of thing, if you will.” Draco added, tightening his grip on her forearm. 

There was so much to take in about the simple request. It wasn’t really all that simple. The gears in her head started turning at a high speed, going through all the possibilities that could happen. There were too many what ifs to consider. 

His fingers flexed in their hold on her arm and she realized this was the only way to get him to agree. Hermione steadied herself and rolled her shoulders, lifting her chin to look at him again. 

“I agree.” Her fate was sealed with the two words. 

It must have been because they were already connected and the magic in the air was tangible, but a hot shiver of binding power ran through her from the tips of her toes to the ends of her fingers to where she and Draco held on to each other. He felt it too, if his slight jolt were anything to go by. 

It wasn’t an Unbreakable Vow, but it was some sort of oath or bind of her to him. She would have to research the topic in the library here soon. Theo cleared his throat, bringing her out of her thoughts. 

“Ready?” He asked for the second time. 

Draco nodded at the same time she did and then Theo was speaking, uttering the words that would seal Draco’s fate to her for who knew how long. Perhaps forever. 

Hermione listened carefully, ensuring no word was misspoken or bounced over. 

“Will you, Draco Malfoy, equate and value Hermione Granger’s life like it were my own?” As Theo spoke, thin cords of silvery white light burst from his wand wrapping around their entwined arms like it were engraving into their very skin. 

Draco did not look away from her as he vowed, “I will.” 

“And will you, to the best of your ability, promise to never willingly betray Hermione or our secrets as Time-Travelers?” Theo’s voice sounded ghostly, unearthly as he wound the magic around them again. 

Draco hesitated for the briefest second, searching her eyes for something. She stared back unflinchingly, meeting his searching gaze with one of her own. 

“I will.” 

Will this be your downfall, Draco Malfoy? She silently asked, dark swimming in light as they looked at each other. 

The light surrounding their arms disappeared, setting into their bones and souls themselves before disappearing. 

They were all silent for a few moments, taking in the gravity of the situation and the magic they had wielded. Hermione realized she was still looking into Draco’s eyes and broke the contact, thus ending whatever force had wrapped around the three of them. Her face felt warm. 

Theo breathed out, running a hand through his hair. “That was wicked.” 

Draco scoffed, turning to his friend, raised a sculpted eyebrow and asked, “Your turn?” 

Hermione interjected before Theo’s look of surprise could morph into some witty and snarky remark towards Draco. “No, uh not right now at least. I just wanted something before we got any farther into this… journey.” She said lamely. 

Maybe it was her soft spot for him, for all the times in the library, or maybe she just felt deep down that he would stick with Draco no matter what, and now Draco was binded to her in a way. 

She brushed a hand against Theo’s arm, bringing his attention away from the other boy. “Do I have your word? That will do for now.” 

Perhaps it would end up to be a stupid oversight on her part, trusting him. 

Theo swept her hand up in his and leaned over slightly to brush his lips against the back of it, a silky smile smoothing his lips. “You have my word, princess.” 

And just like that the air felt breathable and lighter and she noticed she did too. She put her hands on her hips and looked between the two boys. “Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to go get sorted?” 

The two shared a look she couldn’t decipher. She figured she would have enough time with them though in the unforeseeable future to figure out their shared communication. 

They dropped the wards surrounding the area and opened the curtain, scanning the area once before filing out. Madam Blainey was nowhere to be seen and Hermione hoped she wouldn't be too upset to find Theo’s bed empty. They had more pressing matters anyway. 

She trailed behind Draco and Theo as the former led the way to Dumbledore’s office. The hallways were unusually quiet and lacked any students. Despite it being so sunny out already, it was still early morning and she guessed classes would not begin for another hour or so. Most of the students were probably already in the Great Hall for breakfast. 

The longer they walked, the more her excitement began to build. 

Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore were already waiting for them when they arrived back at the office they had used last night. Dumbledore was sitting patiently at his desk, hands clasped and folded together in front of him. The Headmaster seemed anxious or perhaps, hungry was more like it. He was pacing back and forth when the trio walked in, muttering to himself about tardiness. 

Hermione had to fight to not roll her eyes. She was feeling a little more upbeat and emotionally charged since completing the vow with Draco. Her eyes slid over to look at him, watching the way he held himself for any indication he felt the same. Same tall stature, same poised features. All she could feel from him was the slight come and go of his magic brushing against hers and she questioned if this was a side effect from the bindings. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, studying it. There was no cold anger or frosty haughtiness. If anything she could feel a slight buzzing as if he were keeping himself contained in a box. She moved onto Theo, pushing and pulling to see if she could sense him too. He was easier to read, she could practically feel the anxiety stemming from him. She bookmarked that she could barely feel his magic. 

“Miss Granger? Are you quite alright?” 

Hermione opened her eyes to Dumbledore staring at her with a modicum of concern etched on his face. Theo knocked his elbow against hers as he came to stand by her. The movement grounded her. She nodded saying, 

“Just looking forward to getting the sorting over with. I find myself impatient to start classes.” As the words slipped from her lips she realized she actually was. 

It would be a familiar comfort to her and something to keep her mind halfway busy as they started planning more. 

She heard Theo snort and shot him a glare, fighting the urge to poke out her tongue at him. 

“Only you, Granger. Only you.” He leaned down to whisper at her. 

Hermione shrugged. Though Draco was silent beside her, she could almost hear him calling her a swot and know-it-all. 

“Well, in that case, let us begin.” Dumbledore gestured to Headmaster Dippet who brought the ancient sorting hat around to face them. 

Hermione went first at the urge of Dippet, who was excited to see where she would end up. The hat slipped onto her head, feeling just as big and daunting as it had when she was a first year. She hoped she would not be a hatstall as she was back then. Though this time, she had a say in where she was going.

Well, hello Hermione Granger. Where shall I put you? 

The hat seemed kinder and more patient this time around, she noted. The magic behind the hat was an astounding piece and she supposed that after hundreds of years of doing the same thing she would begin to get ornery too, as the gruffness that had accompanied her first year sorting was not present this time. 

“Hello.” She whispered softly in return. In her head she was chanting, over and over again. 

I need to go to Ravenclaw. I need to go to Ravenclaw. I need to go to Ravenclaw. 

She would miss Gryffindor. Its homely red and gold, the comfort of the common room and the familiarity of it. But she would need to spend most of her time studying and hunting, searching and looking. What better place to do that than Ravenclaw? It was a house that produced some of the cleverest minds, and most of the time everyone skipped an eye over the studious house in favor of the daring Gryffindors or sleek Slytherins. 

Hermione would be able to fly under the radar so to speak. The other part she didn’t want to acknowledge was that would be too homesick in Gryffindor, the reminder of everything she had lost or given up would be around constantly. It was best to stay away. 

So, she chanted and begged. Even though she knew she would be alone there. 

Ravenclaw? 

The hat seemed to pause, considering her request. She felt the dip of it as it settled farther onto her head. 

I… suppose that would do for you. You have the mind for it. Are you certain? 

She sensed the hesitance from it and became curious. 

Where would you put me if I didn’t ask for Ravenclaw? 

It was silent for a few moments, weighing her question. 

You have yet to embrace who you truly are. Ravenclaw it will be, if that is what you desire. 

Hermione didn’t get a chance to respond back, the hat's words lingering in her ears, echoing in the back of her mind. She briefly heard it yelling out, still stuck on what it had said. 

She didn’t desire Ravenclaw. It was simply a means to an end, a way for her to work on why they were here and what they were to do. She bit the inside of her cheek, sucking on it as the hat was lifted from her head. Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes and sincere smile met hers. 

“Congratulations, Miss Granger. A fine house to be placed in.” He held out his hand for her to shake. 

She took it, feeling a glimmer of warmth spread across her body as her clothes changed to a Ravenclaw uniform, the bronze and blue tie sitting sharply against her neck. She should feel happy and excited to have gotten the house she wanted. She should feel ready to take on the world. 

But she felt an odd pit in her stomach, one that was hollow and spread up to her chest and choked the air out of her throat. She could almost feel the water back on her skin as dream Tom Riddle whispered for her to accept. 

Between her odd dream and the sorting hats comments, she questioned, not for the first time, why she was truly here. 

Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t pay much attention to Theo’s sorting, only hearing the hat call out Slytherin almost as soon as it had touched the dark curls on his head. It was only when Draco put the hat on and sat there for a long time did she raise her head to pay attention. 

His pale face was smooth and serene, she likened him to the statues in the muggle museums she used to visit with her parents. She wondered if he were having a conversation as well, because why else would the hat have not screamed out Slytherin already. It was the only place he belonged. 

The moment he opened his eyes, the clouds gone from his gaze and the silver shining through, did she know in her heart the hat was putting him with her. Or that he had asked to be put with her. 

The ancient brown thing opened its mouth, bellowing out the house of Ravenclaw. Hermione tilted her head slightly, looking at Draco with new interest. He met her gaze solidly, not breaking under the weight of her questioning stare. He inclined his head, soft looking pieces of white blond hair falling into his eyes. Shielding him from her. Or shielding her from him, she did not know. 

She looked away. One more interesting thing to add to this new time.