Chapter Text
As usual, my weekend wakeup is later than the other girls. They always sleep before I, even when they stay up chatting. I find great difficulty in falling asleep, especially weekend nights when I know I have the freedom to let my mind roam. I'm brushing my teeth when someone knocks against the already open bathroom door. I rinse my mouth and turn, toothbrush still by my lips.
Aurora looks at me, surprised and amused.
"You have a guest," she tells me. She takes in my nightgown and perched toothbrush. "A surprise guest."
I thank her and hurry from the room, slipping into my housecoat before heading on to see the guest. I prefer not to keep this person waiting, whoever he or she is.
I arrive in the common room to see a red-haired figure bent over a fire-side chair inspecting the cushions.
"Helen?" I call gently, working to not startle her. She looks focused on her task, whatever mysterious job that is. "Is there a problem?"
"I lost something last night when I was here. Probably when I bent to pick up my case..." she lifts the cushion and spreads her hands out underneath. She jumps and winces when she hits something sharp. "I need it back..."
I walk to her and kneel beside her, reaching under the chair. I pause and catch her eye. "What are you looking for?"
"My necklace. It's very important to me. My grandmother gave it to me before I left, so I would fit in. I just think it's beautiful."
I sweep my arm around under the chair and feel my ring finger brush something thin and metallic. I manage to curl it around my fingers and tug it out. When I glance down at my hand I am holding a long silver chain with an antique, inscribed watch. I smile and blow some of the dust from the cover without opening it.
"To fit in?" I ask, smiling. "Strange gift to help someone fit in."
I pass it to her and she cradles it in her hand, cooing. Her face reads utter relief. After a number of seconds she loosens her grip and looks up again, smiling her embarrassed and sheepish smile. "It would have been a bonding opportunity for her. She comes from another time."
"It's beautiful. I like it, even if our peers wouldn't appreciate it as much."
"Well thank you. It's an important family heirloom. Nice to know a true friend appreciates it."
I can't hide my smile. "Does that make us true friends?"
Helen wraps the chain twice around her neck and lets the little clock fall just inside her jumper. She moves in quickly and hugs me before I can imagine her next step. When she sits back on her calves, she carries a delicate smile. "I say yes. I've never been very good at making friends, or knowing when we are friends, but...I think we qualify as friends. Potentially good ones. What do you think?"
What do I think? I think a lot of things. At present I cannot reach them. "Yes."
She pats her chest where the clock pendant resides and moves to stand. She gazes down at me and offers her hand, then helps me stand. "Thank you for the help and dealing with my frenzy."
"It's what friends are for," I say, without consciously remembering the phrase. I have never had reason to use it.
I walk her to the door for the second time in two days. She ties her cloak around her shoulders and holds the painting open with her knee, already familiar with the area. I admire that. Contrary to popular belief, it takes me a long time to get comfortable.
"See you tomorrow, then?"
"After Ravenclaw destroys Slytherin."
"Déjà vu," she says, and pushes herself out the door.
~*~
Minerva McGonagall sighed and rested her forehead on her fingertips, quill brushing her cheek and receiving a frown. These times were always difficult on the administration. As Deputy Headmistress, she felt the strain of both administration and teaching duties. These days seemed to weigh on her tight ebony bun and produce ceaseless headaches.
It was schedules like the one before her that delighted half of her—the Teacher Hat—and made the other half groan. She was deluding herself thinking it was a true split. The teacher persona's pleased smile won over her Deputy Headmistress frown.
"My my, Hermione, what are we going to do with you?" she murmured, tracing a finger over the plethora of courses the young witch had chosen. "These courses will never timetable correctly."
There had to be something that could be done to please the overachieving student. The woman sat back in her chair and dropped the quill to her desktop.
There was always...
She shook her head. No, of course not. It was entirely impractical. How could such a device ever be trusted to a third year? The concepts of time were not covered in detail until at least fifth year, if even then. It was apparent that this particular student had crawled too far into her good graces, too close to heart. To contemplate a young adolescent with a Time-Turner! It was preposterous.
Minerva frowned further to find herself standing. Hermione was no ordinary third year. It would not be surprising to discover the girl had already opened fifth-year books, or to find that she would be less than discouraged to face teaching herself about time while keeping ahead of her regular studies.
It was certainly true. If any incoming third year could handle wielding a Time-Turner, it was Hermione.
Within a second, Minerva was holding the schedule and walking toward the door.
~*~
"Albus," Minerva announced to the statue beside the entrance she knew so well. She paused with her eyes closed, then opened them and gave a tight but entertained smile. "Bernie Bots."
A grinding noise told her the password had not been changed. Soon enough the hidden stairwell before her opened. The woman gave a brief look up and down the empty corridor and stepped onto the stone stairs. She took the moment to compose herself—no one else would notice there was anything to compose, but Albus would—and lifted her hand to knock. The door opened before her wrist could move.
"Minerva," the Headmaster greeted cordially, a welcoming smile perched on his thin lips. His wise blue eyes were free of spectacles as he sat at his desk. It appeared he had just been rubbing his face. A few strands stood out of his ordinarily neat white beard. It was a minute observation, but Minerva noted it. The man ushered her into the room, adding, "I can see by your hair and a look in the mirror that it is timetabling a student, mmm?"
The woman smiled lightly and strode into the room, standing attention next to a seat opposite the large wooden desk. Fawkes squawked from the far right but the professors did not flinch. Minerva was waiting for her signal to relax, whatever that signal might be.
Albus Dumbledore opened his arms, gave a wide smile and motioned towards the chair. McGonagall followed the instruction and dropped the intense formality she had previously kept.
"I have a student to discuss," she told him when she was seated and comfortable, robes spread out to either side. She sat relaxed in her own manner—straight back against the chair, rather than perched at the end of her seat.
"Ah, yes. I presume it is one of the trio? Harry, Ron or Hermione. For scheduling...Hermione, then?" He smiled. It set his light eyes to sparkling.
For many other visitors, he would have omitted the logic and murmured merely a name, for shock value or his own amusement. Perhaps both. Minerva was grateful that he included his train of thought when speaking with her. She felt more at ease following thoughts she knew over the mysterious deliberation of an ingenious man.
"Hermione Granger, incoming third year," Minerva confirmed. The description was not necessary, of course—Professors from most Wizarding schools knew of the trio and their year in school. Regardless, Minerva was the sort of woman who stuck to traditional administration when dealing with any student, from unpopular first year to celebrity seventh. Albus smiled. She surmised he was thinking the same.
"Hermione Granger." He sat forward in his chair, interested. "What has she designated as her interests for the next school year?"
"Everything."
Albus smiled further and knit his fingers on the desktop, gazing over the half-moon spectacles he had replaced as Minerva sat. "Delightful, yet difficult to accommodate."
Minerva dipped her head, smiling slightly at his phrasing. She was always pleased when she thought along the same lines as her colleague.
"I had an idea," she remarked slowly, still choosing her words with great care. "It would not be an orthodox method..."
"Is it within the rules?" he questioned, though his look told her he knew exactly what she was considering. At her nod he rested his chin atop his woven fingers. "Using time."
"Yes. A Time-Turner." Minerva took a breath to keep the hope from her features. It would never be entirely hidden, not regarding Hermione, but she could at least keep it from becoming an obvious component regarding any member of the student body. "Would it be possible, Albus?"
He was silent for a moment. There was a hum following. He smiled and turned to Fawkes. "What do you think, old friend? Should a friend of Harry's be gifted time for the sake of education?"
Most would not expect an answer from the resident avian of the room. Minerva, instead, sat carefully angled to hear any response.
Fawkes tilted his head, shrewd eyes connected to his dear companions', and gave a gentle set of squawks. A sound similar to a coo escaped last. To Minerva's ears the communication resonated positively.
"Yes, yes, I believe Hermione is suited to a Time-Turner. We will have to train her properly and improve her knowledge of time science. I do not foresee that as a problem." He paused and look to Minerva, all inquisition over his spectacles. His face was difficult to read. "Tell me, if you would not mind: has she shown an interest in divination?"
"She has it marked."
"Ah." Albus made an indiscernible sound, at least to Minerva, and released his hands. "It will be an exciting year, I have no doubt."
"Never in this school," Minerva riposted, standing. She bowed her head briefly. "Thank you, Albus. I will acquire a Time-Turner and research previous student use. I will report back with my findings. We can decide what to do from there."
"Pragmatic as always, Professor McGonagall." Albus smiled and waved his fingers lightly. The female turned and made her way to the doorway, nodding over her shoulder when she heard a chirp from the phoenix. The male voice called, "Good evening."
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."
~*~
As Minerva strode back to her office, she pondered precocious students. Hermione was high on her list. She had reached her office door when she felt her thoughts draw to a pause.
Yes, Hermione was a third year deserving of a Time-Turner. There was only one other student Minerva could imagine that honour going to; that student was from back in her own adolescent years within the castle...