"Just look below." Hermione pointed downward. ↓↓↓
,
That shadow radiated a suffocating cold, as if it could swallow all light. One look was enough to turn your blood to ice, fear crashing in like a tide.
Harry was closest to the door. He bore the brunt of it.
He stood face-to-face with the shadow's indistinct, featureless face.
The shadow opened its mouth. Pressed it to Harry's. Sucking something out.
,
"See?" Hermione pointed upward. ↑↑↑
Harry: ??
Did you just take a screenshot?!
Knowing he hadn't actually been kissed by a man, Harry finally let out a breath. He touched his lips, still rattled, and asked, "What exactly is a Dementor?"
Hermione finished the apple in a few more bites, tossed the core aside, and explained, "A dark creature. Guards Azkaban."
"They feed on human happiness. Anyone they 'kiss' loses every happy memory they've ever had. What's left is despair and pain."
"If the kiss goes on long enough, the soul gets sucked out entirely. The person becomes an empty shell. Still walking around, but nothing left inside."
Harry's scalp crawled. He shivered despite himself. "Good thing you were here, Hermione. Otherwise I would've..."
He didn't dare finish the thought.
Harry realized he'd completely misread the situation with Lupin, and scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.
Then again , Britain had its own particular history. It was hard not to jump to conclusions.
Now that the misunderstanding was cleared up, he moved on quickly, turning to Lupin. "Sorry — who are you, exactly?"
Lupin introduced himself. "Remus Lupin. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
Harry said "Oh," and left it at that.
"Another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor..."
He muttered it under his breath. The resignation in his voice was impossible to miss.
"Hello, Professor Lupin."
Lupin caught the tone and glanced at Hermione, puzzled.
Hermione shrugged.
First Quirrell, then Lockhart. At this point, the words Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had probably become synonymous with not worth your time in their heads.
"It's nothing," Hermione said with a small laugh. "He's just developed a bit of PTSD around professors for that subject."
Lupin smiled at that. And quietly made himself a promise: he would change Harry's mind about what a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor could be.
"Professor Lupin is nothing like Quirrell or Lockhart," Hermione said. "He's the real thing."
"He was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. On the front lines against Voldemort, back when it mattered."
Lupin looked at her, genuinely startled. "You even know about that?"
Harry's whole demeanor shifted after that. He straightened up and paid attention.
And somewhere in the conversation that followed, he realized that Professor Lupin had actually been one of his father's closest friends.
That changed everything. Harry had a thousand questions, and he asked most of them.
Time slipped by. The train pulled into Hogwarts.
In the Great Hall, the first-years craned their necks at everything, wide-eyed and overwhelmed. The older students clustered in their usual groups, swapping stories from the holidays.
The Sorting Ceremony wrapped up. Dumbledore rose to his feet, and the hall went quiet instantly.
He cleared his throat. His voice carried easily, warm and unhurried. "Welcome to Hogwarts. Welcome to a new school year."
"Before you enjoy the feast, there is something I must address."
He paused. His expression shifted.
"There has been a breakout at Azkaban. The notorious Death Eater Sirius Black has escaped."
"The Ministry believes Hogwarts may be his target. And so..."
"The Azkaban guards — the Dementors — will be stationed at every entrance to the school. They are here to keep you safe."
"I must be clear: Dementors are extremely dangerous creatures."
"They feed on human happiness. Anyone they kiss loses every happy memory they have ever had."
"Do not provoke them."
The message was plain enough. Hogwarts was unsafe again.
The first-years went pale. The older students exchanged looks, wary, resigned, and somehow not entirely surprised.
After dinner, Dumbledore rose again. His gaze settled on Hermione.
"Miss Granger. Please wait a moment and come to my office."
Hermione nodded. She'd been expecting it.
This had basically become a Hogwarts tradition at this point. First day of term, Hermione gets summoned.
At the Ravenclaw table, Luna was already watching her.
When she noticed Hermione looking back, Luna raised one small hand and gave a gentle wave. Then she winked and pulled a ridiculous face.
Hermione mouthed back: see you later.
...
After the hall cleared, Hermione made her way up to the Headmaster's office.
"Headmaster." She greeted him as she stepped inside.
Dumbledore smiled at her and reached into a drawer, producing a small golden pendant.
It was circular, set with an exquisite miniature hourglass. The sand inside caught the light, glinting in tiny, scattered sparks.
"This is a Time-Turner." He held it out to her.
"I had originally planned to give it to you this year, to help you manage a heavier course load."
"But it seems, now, it may already be useless to you."
Hermione took it, turning it over in her fingers. Puzzled.
A Time-Turner.
She knew what it was, of course. A magical object that could send a person physically back in time.
In the original timeline, her third-year self had genuinely needed one.
She looked up at Dumbledore. "Why do you say that?"
He smiled, that particular smile of his, the one that gave nothing away. "Take a look and you'll know."
Hermione examined the pendant carefully.
The magic book in her mind flickered to life.
[Curio]
[Time-Turner (Collected)]
[Allows physical return to the past. Can only withstand magic power of lv2 or below. Maximum return window: 48 hours.]
Oh.
That's why.
A magic power limit.
No wonder Dumbledore thought it might be useless to her. The original Hermione's magic level had been ordinary , using a Time-Turner to pack in extra classes made perfect sense. But her own magic had long since outgrown what it used to be. This thing probably couldn't hold up under it.
Still.
Just because others couldn't use it didn't mean she couldn't find a way.
Hermione turned the pendant over in her palm, feeling the quiet pull of time coiled inside it.
She had a feeling, vague but persistent, that in her hands, this Time-Turner might do something no one expected. It would need the right key, some other piece she didn't have yet. But the potential was there.
Dumbledore's smile didn't waver. "Originally, I intended to offer the Time-Turner as a trade. One day a month, you'd cover Professor Lupin's classes."
"However." He spread his hands. "Professor Snape raised strong objections. He was concerned you might teach something... excessively aggressive."
The old headmaster looked almost apologetic. "So in the end, I've decided to leave that responsibility with Professor Snape."
...
Hermione had barely stepped out of the Headmaster's office when she spotted a figure waving at her from down the corridor.
Luna. Practically bouncing.
She trotted over with a fresh, rolled-up copy of The Quibbler tucked under her arm.
"This is the newest issue! Dad gave it to me the moment it came off the press!"
Her voice had that familiar quality, light, drifting, like it was only loosely tethered to the ground.
She pressed the magazine into Hermione's hands, silvery-grey eyes blinking with open curiosity. "So what did you get up to over the holidays?"
Hermione flipped through it. Strange articles, stranger headlines. Par for the course.
"Nothing too out of the ordinary," she said, shrugging. Casual. Easy. "Stirred up a bit of trouble here and there. And, you know." A beat. "Fought some aliens."
➤ Next: Divination — Words Unspoken
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