The Lines

For as long as I have known Hermione, I have known her to always perform extraordinarily under pressure. She was, and still is, incredibly reliable.

Though on the rare occasions where someone else was not relying on her abilities, Hermione would sometimes allow herself the leisure of panicking. Sometimes she would lose her wording. She tells me to not narrate her emotional distress this way, so instead I will continue on to the actual story.

• • •

"Hermione? Are you alright?" Harry ran up to her, obviously distressed. Hermione looked up at her friend, bleary eyed.
"Y-yeah..." Hermione choked out, feeling quite shaken up after her ordeal. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head.

Harry looked utterly unconvinced. "Where did you go? Hell, I didn't even know you could apparate inside this house..." he frowned. His confusion was warranted, as the house was charmed with anti-apparition spells. Hermione pushed Harry aside, running to the loo as she felt bile rise up her throat.

She slammed open the bathroom door and flung herself onto the floor, heaving into the toilet bowl. It was not a pretty sight, and certainly not a sight for the faint of heart.
"I... I did it," she choked out, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes as she staggered up and flushed the toilet, moving feebly to rinse her mouth. Harry looked at her oddly.

"Did what?" He asked cautiously.
"I travelled back in time!" Hermione cried, sobs wracking through her body. She had achieved what no other witch, or wizard, ever had. She travelled back in time without the support of any ancient runic magic. Even within that, she accomplished a second extraordinary feat. She had successfully leaped through time.

"Merlin! I'm so proud of you Hermione!" Harry grinned, encasing her in a bone crushing hug. Hermione laughed through her tears. "You were gone for a few seconds... I would never have guessed you travelled back in time!" Pure ecstasy coursed through Hermione's veins. "Sirius!" Harry bellowed, "Hermione's done it! She managed to travel back in time!" He looked down at Hermione.
“You wait here, I'll go get Sirius. Gin hasn't gotten home yet." Hermione blanched. She blinked rapidly, as if it would better convey the word's Harry was speaking.
Hermione didn't know what to say, so she settled for nodding. Sure, Harry! Go get me your dead Godfather.

Harry ran up the stairs, and though the noise was muffled Hermione heard the rapping on the door, the door unlocking and the voices of two men conversing. Hermione cautiously walked out into the clearing under the staircase, looking up with a dumbfounded expression. It wasn’t long after that Harry was visible. Hermione was at a loss for words and actions. She did not know how she would react.

But what she did know was this- time is linear, time is not cyclical.Whoever I shared that short conversation with, he will become an influential figure. Hermione stood there rigidly, unable to open her mouth. She felt as if she would be unable to keep herself from barfing once again should she open her mouth.

Harry took a stand next to Hermione, grinning from ear to ear. His pride at his best friend's work was evident in the glitter of his eyes. Then, walked in Sirius Black the third. He was everything Hermione remembered him to be, yet simultaneously someone she did not know at all. His previously (if that even was the correct way to describe it) shaggy black hair was now cut neatly, no longer the matted mess as it had been during his time on the run. Sure it still had the touch of messiness to it, but in the same way that Harry had messy hair.

Sirius was dressed in a prim and proper suit, casual as ever. Unlike the times they had discussed the Order of the Phoenix's plans and Sirius had dressed in tattered old suits (one of the downsides of being a mass murderer was how inconvenient shopping was). His face did not look as sunken, though there was a certain sadness to it. "Hermione!" He laughed, throwing his hands up to embrace her, "I would never have thought time travelling like that could be possible!" He seemed as fatherly as the Sirius Black Hermione remembered.

Then came the discomfort. Hermione bit her lower lip, trying hard to hold back before bursting into tears. Sobs wracked through her body as she heaved in sorrow, in mourning and pain. Sirius, concerned for the younger girl, embraced her. He pat the back of her head in a sooting manner so Hermione could calm down. He didn't speak a word, as if sensing that all Hermione needed was a minute. A minute to cry for the Sirius she knew, a minute to mourn for his loss. A minute to accept and move on.

She cried, loudly. She prayed for forgiveness to the Sirius she knew and prayed that the other people that had once been close to her had also been saved. Harry stood awkwardly by the doorframe, unsure of what to say. "Hermione?" He prodded, trying to get her to speak.

I can't tell them, can I? It would never make sense.

Sirius kept a firm grip on her shoulders, letting her rest her head on his chest and allowing her tears to wet the pristine suit he wore. "What's changed?" Sirius asked quietly. "You don't have to tell me, Hermione. But just know... I would listen." He kissed the crown of her head in a display of fatherly affection. The only thing that achieved was Hermione’s continued crying.

• • •

Tom grabbed his wand, promptly jumping off the bed to where the witch had been standing mere seconds ago. Not that he particularly cared for the annoying witch, but she had just disappeared into thin air. Curiousity spiked within him.

Logically thinking, disappearing was not impossible itself as Apparition existed, but Hogwarts had a plethora of spells in place to inhibit such methods of travelling for wizards. Unless Hermione was a house elf, Tom did not know how to explain what he just witnessed.

He stuck his head out the doorframe, expecting to catch sight of the witch. Sure, she could be fast. She could have ran. But it was just not possible to run that fast. Tom furrowed his brows, feeling a headache come up. He grabbed the door handle, ready to slam the door shut and forget about the stupid witch. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light? If light could produce sound and hold conversations.

Tom grimaced, grabbing the door frame and pulling inwards. Just as he did, a heavy weight fell onto him, pushing them both onto the ground the weight produced a feminine oof.
Tom fell onto his ass, scowling harder. He pushed the weight off his lap with excessive force, and whoever had fallen on him jumped up and turned back in shock. Tom brandished his wand, the curses rolling on the tip of his tongue. Tom glared at the figure, his confusion deepening as he saw her.

Hermione.

"You." He said unimpressed, dropping his wand. But he did not loosen his grip around the stick. Hermione was dressed in completely different clothes than she had been in moments ago. She was now in a lavender dress, with a modest cutting and length. A much more appropriate outfit.

Hermione swallowed awkwardly, "what are you doing down there?" She laughed, running her hands through her hair. She avoided eye contact with him.
Tom's eye twitched, "yeah," he said dryly, "whatever could have pushed me over?" He wondered aloud, sarcasm dripping from his voice he hoisted himself up.

At least Hermione had the decency to blush and look ashamed, "Okay look, I'm sorry..." she trailed off, staring at her toes.

Tom rolled his eyes, moving back to his bed. His senses were heightened due to the curious witch behind him. Hermione stood by the doorway, seemingly unsure of what to do, "so," she asked, avoiding eye contact, "what are you up to today?"

Tom scoffed, "I do recall you were about to leave?" He sneered. Hermione nodded, but shuffled to the sofa unashamed.
"How did you disappear like that?" Tom demanded. He demanded answers.

Hermione laughed it off with a wave of her hand, "don't be silly, I apparated of course. Weren't you supposed to be smart?" She jested, waving her hands about animatedly as she spoke.

Tom swallowed down his anger. Not in Hogwarts. He put his hands behind him and leaned back on the bed, staring at her unfazed.
"Hermione, why lie? We both know apparition within Hogwarts is not possible," he cooed. Though a voice in the back of his head wondered if this disappearance to the experiment she had been speaking of? If it was, she would he invaluable to him. Until he learned of the details to her experiment. She did say that she had achieved something never done before.

Hermione fiddled with her fingers while Tom kept his eyes trained on her. She had her makeup done, albeit lightly, and had obviously tried to maintain her hair as well. His eyes did not waver, smugness filling him as the witch adjusted herself uncomfortably. Hermione dropped her hands suddenly and looked at him with teary eyes. "I have to go actually, work." She laughed, itching her head.

Before she could move from the spot, Tom brought forth his wand once more, pointing it towards her. Hermione cleared her throat. "Do you work for Grindelwald?" Tom bit out, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. That daft pig has bothered me enough lately.

Hermione shook her head no, exhaling deeply. "Of course not," she laughed, maintaining clear eye contact. Tom could tell she was telling the truth, though the sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cold weather made her suspicious enough. Tom arched an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.

"Then tell me, who are you, Hermione." His voice was sweet. His face charming, despite him holding his wand up to the witch threateningly.
Hermione looked down, before tipping her head up to meet his eyes. "I'm Hermione Granger." She began, with determined eyes, "I'm a witch, testing the limits of magic."

Again, a very vague answer. Every answer she had given Tom was vague, barely applicable. But he would accept it anyway. If Hermione wanted to present herself scarcely, Tom did not mind a puzzle. Hermione turned towards the door ready to walk out. "I lied to you," Tom yawned, dropping his wand once more. For now, he needed the witch to find him just a tad more trustworthy.

I will make you believe in me, I will squeeze the life force out of you Hermione.

Hermione peeked at him, "excuse me?" She questioned indignantly. Tom shrugged, "the teachers begun their round about 10 minutes earlier? I simply wanted you gone." He answered simply, climbing onto the bed. He turned to look at her once more, “and of course I was trying to alert the authorities. A mysterious person lurking the school’s corridors without permission…” he shrugged.

Hermione scowled at his retreating form, "well go to your dormitory and sleep! Since I can't leave." She complained.

Tom glared at her, cutting off her oncoming temper tantrum immediately. "Just sleep on the couch, or ask the room for an extra bed." He snapped, "I do not wish to get points docked for you either." He sounded snooty, but he was curious to see what the witch was capable of. So he would rather keep her company.

The witch seemed to take his words to heart, as the room begun to quake for a second before a bed fell onto the ground, shaking Tom. Tom perched himself up on an elbow and scowled at Hermione. "Quieter!" He snapped. Bloody witch cannot even manage a cushioning charm. Hermione did not dignify Tom with a response, and her silence he could work with.

But sleep hardly came to Tom. He stared at the ceiling, a feeling of distate on the tip of his tongue. He eventually sat up once more, opting to read his book for a while longer. His reading had been cut short by a certain bushy haired witch after all. A certain bushy haired witch was leaning back in bed, reading something with full focus. Tom ignored her, moving to search for his book, likely caught up between the blanket somewhere.

The blanket was bunched up by Tom's waist, as he looked over the bed for his book. An oncoming headache told him the book was likely in possession of the irksome witch. Tom slid off his bed, deciding to retrieve it by hand rather than accio-ing it. He stuck his feet into slippers provided by the Room, before waltzing over to Hermione's bed with a calm demeanour.

If nothing else, the witch at least seemed to know how to appreciate a book. Tom stood on the side of her bed, with the book now in clear view. Tom cleared his throat, making the witch jump, she whipped her head to face him to fast he would not be surprised if she had gotten a whiplash. Awfully jumpy witch. "My book." Tom’s lips were drawn into a frown. Hermione averted her gaze quickly, reddening. She seemed to take note of the page number before shutting the thick tome and handing it over to him, looking anywhere but directly at him. "Do not touch my things." Tom emphasised with a sneer.

Hermione whipped her head to the side to look at him, affronted, "that is property of the Hogwarts Library!" She snapped.
Tom raised an eyebrow, "for the students. Which I seem to recall you are not." He commented dryly.

Hermione huffed, looking irritable. Tom was staring directly at her, watching. So when she started to lose her colour, literally, Tom could not help the confusion he felt. The girls occlumency walls were imperturbable, Tom had accepted as much as soon as she showed up. She did not seem aware that she had been in a constant state of occlumency or that Tom was trying to look through, so he was not weary of her.

But the longer he thought about their situation, the more it disoriented him. Tom stared at the girl, as she seemed to lose focus. He blinked, trying to convince himself that perhaps it was just a trick of the light but she was actually losing colour.
Tom could see right through her, he could see every crease in the blankets and every bit of colour behind her. He staggered backwards. Hermione put a hand up to her face and in a state of panic, reached out to Tom. She seemed to be mouthing something, but Tom could not hear. Just like it had happened by the doorway, except Tom had not exactly withnessed her becoming transparent back then.

A fleeting thought in Tom's head told him she might just be a ghost, it would explain everything. Still unconvinced, Tom reached his hand out to Hermione, who fell forward. And once again, she seemed to drop out of existence.

Tom stared at the bed, his eyes flashing a crimson red. He did not like this state of unknowing. Removing his wand from his holster, his face pulled into a sneer. As he blasted the covers off the bed. The smell of burning fabric burnt his nose.

Pissed, and rightfully so, he strode out of the Room of Requirement. His eyes flashed the red within them everytime he thought of his infuriating ordeal. Tom walked down several flights of stairs luckily undisturbed before he reached the dungeons, where he belonged.

"Astraea," he whispered. The portrait hole swung open, allowing him into the dimly lit common room. Tom, despite not being able to see much, could tell perfectly where everything was placed. Dodging the furniture that seemed to be veiled by the dark. He went into the boys' dormitory, barging into Rosier's room. "Rosier." He called, his face passive and voice level.

The boy named Rosier, with similar build to Tom, jumped up. He staggered a bit, trying to gather his bearings as he tipped his head in a low bow to show Tom his respect. "Wake up the others and meet me in the Room of Requirement in half an hour." Tom whispered, though he honestly did not care if someone overheard. He could deal with any eavesdroppers himself.

Rosier furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded nonetheless. No questions asked. In good measure too, as Tom was not in a good mood. He turned his back to his follower and walked back towards the Room of Requirement. He would find out everything there was to about that witch.

• • •

When Hermione finally managed to recreate the exact requirements for her next time leap, two months had passed gone by. Since she had come back and found Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather, to be healthy and a free man, Hermione was even more determined to go back to the past and somehow recruit that important person.

Tom. He was weird. To Hermione, he did not seem like he would be playing a positive role in any of this.

Of course now that she just finished her second time leap she had more questions than before if nothing else. She felt sick. But, from what she could tell, she had gone back to the exact same place as the first meeting. Perhaps in the past her leaps were minutes apart, but in the future it was getting increasingly harder to figure out exactly what caused such a drastic leap.

Hermione struggled to get back onto her feet. She was currently on a trip in Melbourne, away from her experimentation. On a search for her parents, she travelled to the last location they had been identified in. Hermione had been more focused on the reversal of memory charms than time travel. Her priorities had changed. Yet, it seemed as if there were no exact conditions Hermione had any longer have to fulfill to leap backwards in time. Since she had not exactly inhaled any weird potion fumes in a while.

Which is why Hermione could not contain her surprise. She tried to get up, but the wave of faintness that washed over her left her squatting on the side of the street trying to catch her breath. She fell over backwards, desperate to find something to hold because of how lost she felt, imagine her surprise when those blurry faint lines shielded her eyesight once more. All Hermione could hear was faint ringing. Minutes, no seconds apart.

When she finally got hold of herself, she found her to be back in the Room of Requirement.

Sitting on the bed she had been in just seconds ago. Hermione could not even bring herself to run away, she felt afraid. And she was exhausted. So Hermione shut her eyes and let sleep come to her. Not that she had a choice, but at least sleep would rejuvenate her. Despite being unsure of the Slytherin Head Boy, she let herself succumb to a state of vulnerability. Mad eye’s words rung in her head as she drifted off to sleep, constant vigilance.

Not long after, Tom slammed open the rooms door and to his evident surprise, found the witch sprawled on top of the bed. Anger welled up in his chest at the sight of the witch and he strode to her bed, ready to hand her over to proper authorities just to get her out of his sight. "Hermione." He called, his face cool. He breathed heavily trying to compose himself. "Hermione." He called once more, just a little louder.

Hermione however seemed unfazed, not even blinking or turning in her sleep. A thin layer of sweat gleamed on her face. Tom could see the way her lips were parted with each deep exhale. Exasperated, Tom placed a hand on top of the witches, ready to push her. As his fingers made contact with her wrist, he hissed and recoiling immediately as her burning skin made contact with his own cool hand.

Panicked (Tom insisted he was not worried, he just did not want to be caught up in the investigation of a dead body), Tom picked Hermione's limp body up bridal style and rushed out of the Room of Requirement. He headed towards the Hospital Wing, jaw clenching as the witch remained unresponsive in his arms. Picking up his pace, Tom was seconds away from breaking into a sprint when the light of the hospital wing glowed into sight. "Madam Caligula!" Tom shouted, wanting to alert the medi-witch as soon as possible.
"Madam Caligula!" Tom called once more, pushing the door open with his side before barging in. A muffled, “just a second!” reached him.

Tom laid Hermione onto the nearest bed, pacing uncomfortably up and down the aisle. "Wh- Tom? What has happened dear?" The medi-witch questioned, her face taut with concern.

Tom looked at her with distress, pointing to Hermione's bed. Madam Caligula wasted no time, placing a hand on the witches head before pulling back. “Oh dear... you better head back to your dormitory dear, I will handle this." She spoke quietly in between bombarding Hermione's limp form with an array of diagnostic spells.

And Tom trusted Madam Caligula's abilities. He had also done his utmost. Should anything happen to the witch, it would only make it easier for him to lie about the actual situation. Still, Tom was nosey enough to wish to stay by the hospital wing to confirm the girls safety but he had called upon his knights for an emergency meeting, and he would rather find out who the witch was, than how the witch was.

So he took off, not turning back to see what was happening to the witch.