Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Oh, nope, no money either...just for fun.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to EverMystique and DuchessOfArcadia for combing through this to help me make this presentable for reading. You're the best, thank you!

Severus didn't come back as promised. Hermione set down Severus' book, Potions: The Magical Nature of Organic Matter, and stared at the door again. Her pear core and half-eaten sandwich of beef stuffed into a roll sat on the plate next to her. She wasn't that hungry anymore; she was bored. He had been spending a great deal of time in the library the last two days, her favorite place in the castle, and she resented it. No, that isn't fair, but I just want to be able to move about the castle again. Freely...no restrictions...well, reasonable restrictions. Bugger. Bugger.

He'd even removed the Polyjuice Potion from the desk so she couldn't impersonate anyone and go there herself, not that she would. She frowned at a soft growling noise coming from under the bed. Her Care of Magical Creatures book had gotten free of her and was sleeping contentedly under there. It had bitten her when she'd attempted to extract it out earlier, so she'd used a bit of the hem of her blouse as a bandage.

The doorknob rattled, and she picked up the book and began reading the chapter about the transformation and composition changes between potion ingredients and the constitution and/or configuration of a compound that resulted within a cauldron. In essence, why a potion is a potion and not just soup, she grumbled mentally.

Severus set a pile of books down on his way to his worktable, grunting a greeting in her direction. He checked his two simmering potions and began to slice the hellsbane truffles.

Or in some cases, poison, she sighed to herself, watching him over the top of the book. She listed off the number of toxic and poisonous ingredients that were frequently used in potions, stopping when she came to hellsbane truffles. Hellsbane truffles, the one poisonous truffle! She'd learned in second-year Potions and Herbology that hellsbane truffles formed because of the symbiotic relationship with the roots of the hornbeam trees inhabited by Bowtruckles and the Bowtruckles themselves. The truffles fruit throughout the year but had the strongest efficacy for potions in early autumn. But, Severus had explained to her that in winter, when other foods were scarce, the truffles mellowed in toxicity, providing nutrients for the tree and a food source for the Bowtruckles. For that reason, the Bowtruckles guarded them as fiercely as they did the naturally straight branches of the trees desirable for stirring rods and wands.

"Are you nearly done with my book? I need to finish my essay," Severus asked as he cut the slices into thin strips before carefully cutting the strips into much smaller pieces.

He didn't even look at me to ask, she pouted to herself. "Yes," she replied, setting down the book and picking up one from the pile he'd dumped on the way to his worktable. Hermione could see his cutting technique in her mind, the way he held his knife, the way he rocked the blade rather than just chopping away haphazardly. If she closed her mind, she could see each of his cutting techniques, many that she'd mastered as well under his tutelage. His slicing technique impressed her the most.

She watched him as he slid the perfectly diced truffles off his cutting board into his cauldron and stirred the potion twelve times, adding one counter-clockwise turn, then stirring twelve more times. He frequently did that, added a counter turn when stirring. She understood his reasoning, but he'd nearly melted his cauldron each time he experimented with the additional turn. His annotations on when the extra reversed turn was to be done was always underlined and the other failed tries crossed out completely in his Potions book.

He lowered his flame, checked the other potion and sat down at the table. He pulled out a thick, rolled length of parchment and his quill. Hermione waited for him to look at her, but he simply opened his book and began to write, his nose only an inch from the parchment.

"Severus, is everything all right?" she asked softly, cringing at the firm set of his shoulders and the tick that she saw in his cheek when he looked up.

"Yeah, everything is fine. I have a lot of revision to do." He rested his forehead in his hand and checked something in the book.

Hermione returned to her reading. He was broody today, much like he had been yesterday, and she couldn't fathom as to why.

Severus elongated the worktable so that he could revise in between the steps of his potions. Hermione stood beside him, carefully stripping and separating the barbs off the Jobberknoll feathers. Her work had improved so much since their first time brewing together. He recalled the time she'd gotten powdered moonstone on her face when she'd inadvertently sneezed. And, the time she'd showed him how to extract the mucus from the glutinous snails... or the time she'd cracked open the ashwinder egg on her cauldron rim, and a baby ashwinder almost fell into the potion. Good thing he'd been aware.

He'd been quick enough with the wand to flick the snake away just in time. "Didn't your professor tell you to always crack your eggs on a dish first?" he'd chided her mirthlessly.

She had looked so abashed, biting her lip and looking up at him from under her fringe with pleading, doe-like eyes. He smiled to himself. His approval meant so much to her. He wondered if this was what it would have been like having a younger sister. His smile faded as the mental image of him cowering in a corner, protectively shielding Hermione's body from his father's wrath, or knowing he'd have to keep his door unlocked in case she needed to hide in his room at night... No, it was a good thing Mum never had another child, least of all a daughter. Besides, where would she have slept? My room would've been out. The closet? There were only two rooms upstairs and the closet. Dad might have allowed Mum to magically convert the closet into a bedroom... but not likely.

He turned back to his paper, due in Charms class in the afternoon. He still had to edit one half-inch worth off his essay, or it'd be too long.

His mind still wandered. As Hermione carefully added the knotgrass on the surface of the potion, he recalled the trouble he'd had with the Sprain Paste and the spoon she'd made for him from the mouse. It had turned back into a mouse, of course, but he'd transfigured it back. Over summer hols, I can try to find an alternative or have one of them made. Maybe I could patent the spoon and make a bit of pin money! Summer was a little over two months away yet. Severus' smile faded. She'd be gone, and he'd be alone in this room again. He sighed and Hermione turned to look at him, the tilt of her head and crease between her brows relaying her confusion.

He shook his head. "Nothing. You're doing fine."

Her lip slid slowly from her teeth as she watched him, her eyes sad and pleading.

He didn't know what to say. Well, he knew what he wanted to say...but couldn't. She would be gone in a day or two. Only this morning she'd asked how long she's been here already. His time, her time. He hated thinking about that.

He'd have to send her home, and he hated the idea. However, he couldn't keep her like a pet forever, and he couldn't adopt her. Taking her home with him was not an option at all.

A soft knock broke the silence. "Hurry, hide," he hissed. Hermione ran for the space beside her bed.

Mulciber poked his head in. "Do you have a minute?"

"One," he said, checking to see how the potion was doing.

"Which is that?" Mulciber asked, jutting his chin in the direction of the cauldrons.

"Piles Potion," he said, indicating the cauldron closest to him with a jerk of his head. "I have to add the dried figs next. The other is Coagulant Draught."

Mulciber shifted his weight and looked about the room. "I need help with my Transfiguration. I can't get the legs of the chair equal."

Severus sighed. "Your problem isn't in making them equal. You have to concentrate on the image in your mind. You have to imagine them equal to begin with."

"But, each time I do, one leg is too long, and one leg is too short," he moaned.

Severus Summoned a chair to him nonverbally, and Mulciber gaped at him in astonishment. "Damn, you do that so easily."

"Some have the ability, some don't. You'd get it if you applied yourself," Severus said dismissively. "Look at the chair."

Mulciber stared at the chair.

"Duplicate it," Severus demanded.

It took several tries, most dismal, but finally Mulciber managed a reasonable chair, although it still wobbled. "I'm hopeless."

The timer on the worktable went off. "You only have to concentrate," Severus stated as he turned back to his potions. He added the dried figs to the Piles Potion. He dropped the ground turmeric rhizomes into the Coagulant Draught next and stirred the potion slowly. He knew that Mulciber was looking over his shoulder, but he didn't let it bother him. When he minced the white radish, he admonished him, "You're not practicing."

"I did it again, and it's the same," Mulciber said, practically whining.

Severus added the radish to the Piles Potion. "I have to finish these. I don't have time right now. Can we do this in Herbology?"

"Professor Sprout..."

"Won't know a thing," Severus scoffed at him. "We're repotting mature Screechsnaps. The noise alone will cover anything. We'll work with Townsend, and between him and me, we'll cover for you. If not, I'll bribe Rosier to make a distraction."

"Yeah, I suppose so. See you in the common room," Mulciber said with a shrug and left.

Hermione walked out smirking.

"What's so funny?"

"He doesn't have very good depth perception or he doesn't understand visual perspectives," she stated and began slicing the horsenettles leaves.

He crossed his arms. "Explain."

"Draw a chair on paper," she answered back.

He scowled at her, and she shrugged back at him. He had no idea why he should, but she crossed her arms the same way he did when she wasn't doing what he'd told her. Sighing in annoyance, he flipped his parchment over and drew a chair. Hermione glanced at it and smiled, but he knew she was laughing at his sketch.

She set the leaves aside and reached for his quill. "Not a square, a rectangle with the sides at an angle, like this. Draw the bit of wood along the front and on one side, then add the legs and the back," she rambled as she drew a chair next to his. Hers looked more realistic, dimensional. "You can think in dimensional images...obviously your friend cannot. Teach him how to draw a chair this way, explain visual dimensions and perspectives, and he'll get it."

Severus nodded, understanding what she meant by the exercise. Mulciber was copying the chair without realizing that, in images and looking at something, the front appears longer than the back. "You'd be a good teacher."

"Thanks."

He looked at his watch. "I have to get my things for Herbology." He raised his wand to put the potion on stasis.

"I think I can finish these for you," she asserted, holding up her hand to stop him. "The Piles Potion just needs to simmer for an hour, right? And the Coagulant Draught needs leech juice, anise, and maidenhair leaves."

"Don't forget the snipefish spines," he said lowering his wand. "This is way above your level, Hermione."

She looked at him imploringly. "Don't you trust me?"

He considered her statement. Yes, he did, but these potions were perfect so far. The Piles Potion is done. No harm there. She could set it on the cooling rack in an hour and bottle it for him, no problems. The Coagulant was in its tricky stage. "The leech juice, anise, and maidenhair are typically anti-coagulants and the snipefish spines react badly if there isn't enough leech juice... if not added in the proper portions they would throw the potion off," he explained carefully.

"All right, I'll have to be extra careful. You have the amounts here..." she said, checking his directions. She looked up and smiled. "It's clear enough, I should be able to follow your notes just fine."

If she blows it, I'll have to start over. But, if I let her, the potions will be done before I get back after Charms. He stared at her for a bit, hoping he wasn't making a bad decision. Hasn't she proven that she can brew potions even seventh-year N.E.W.T. students have trouble with? "All right. But don't mess it up."

"I promise. I can do this," she assured him.

He nodded once, turned, and hurried for the door.

Severus entered the room, limping again. Hermione rushed over to him, but he held up a hand to stop her. "Hold on. I'm fine. Black tried to turn me into a chair. Professor McGonagall straightened me out, but I had to go see Madam Pomfrey again."

"That bastard!" she ground out venomously. "Do tell me that he's being expelled!" There was no way around it; Sirius Black was a horrible boy, and James Potter was no better in Hermione's opinion.

Severus huffed in derision and rolled his eyes. "Expel Black? One of her pets...one of the Golden Boys of Hogwarts? They'll probably make him Head Boy next year!"

"Head Boy...him? Are you mad? Didn't Black try to turn that fifth-year Ravenclaw, Barty Crouch, into a dog?" she asked, her fists firmly on her hips.

"Yeah, what of it? We're learning human transfigurations, and he was just practicing," Severus snapped at her as he walked past.

"What?!" Hermione exclaimed and pivoted as she watched him walk away, in total disbelief that he'd said that.

"That's what I was told. He was practicing on Potter and missed," he snapped angrily, dumping his bag on the table. "Barty Crouch hangs around with Brodie MacGough and Grunnar Sorensen from my house."

"So that's... What about Wendell Walters, the boy you told me about? Didn't Black hang him upside-down in the bell tower?" she asked, still amazed that Professor McGonagall hadn't disciplined either of them. She was usually so strict, especially with the students of her own house. "Surely, Black was given more than a detention then?"

"No, that was Potter, not Black. Although, no one can prove it; it's Walters' word against Potter, Black, and Lupin," he said, almost a sneer. "Look, Hermione, Wendell is just another scrawny kid whose dad taught him loads of curses and hexes so he'd be able to defend himself here at school."

"Loads of good it does him! Or you!" she exclaimed. She knew he was moody again today, but it made her furious that he'd been assaulted again.

Severus' dark eyes seemed to grow darker as they narrowed in anger. "Did you really think I am the only one that the Marauders torment? I'm not."

She held up her hands in supplication. "I never said you weren't. I was merely asking why they always seem to get away with it." She suddenly knew why...Harry's map. The map...the Marauders: Padfoot, Prongs, Moony, and Wormtail. They couldn't be the same as Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew?

"What?"

Hermione shook her head. "What do you mean, what?"

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table. "You were a miles away. What were you thinking?"

"Something I learned about in my time," she said, hoping he'd drop the subject.

He turned around and opened his bag. "I hate it when you do that. If you don't want to tell me, then fine. But you don't have to brush me off."

She walked up to him. "I'm not brushing you off," she said, placing a hand lightly on his back. He stiffened and shrugged his shoulder to spurn her. She took a deep breath and decided on telling him the truth, well, part of it. "Sirius Black was...is...will be a wanted man. In my time, he's wanted for murder." There that isn't divulging too much. She didn't want to tell him that he'd escaped from Azkaban. That would be too much... and could possibly change things.

He turned his head to look at her. "I'm hardly surprised." He hung his head, his hair obscuring his face from her view. "Look, I don't want to fight. I was angry, but not at you. My body still aches a bit from the transformations. I want to get some work done before dinner. Is that all right?"

She nodded in understanding. "Sure." She wanted to finish reading Potions: The Magical Nature of Organic Matter anyway. She looked at the titles of Severus' books: Principles and Applications of Human Transformations and The Practical Approach of Changing Forms, but the title of the book on the bottom of the stack, Human Transformations: Where Do My Shoes Go?, made her snicker.

"What?" he asked, scowling at her.

"Nothing. I'd just like to read that one later if it's all right?" she asked, pointing to the third book.

He handed it to her. "Here. I don't need it right now."

She read quietly as he worked on his essay, careful not to stare at him. She was getting much better at observing someone slyly without bothering him. Or, he was growing accustomed to her. Hermione carefully turned the page, glancing up quickly, then back down. If she could stay in this time with him, she was certain they'd remain friends. They were very much alike and enjoyed the same things. She sighed, realizing that if she did stay here, she wouldn't be able to see her parents, Harry, Ron, her cat Crookshanks... She'd have no home, no money. She ran her finger down the edges of the pages, not really looking at the text of the book. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't stay.

There was a soft knock at the door. Hermione glanced up as Severus turned around. He snapped his fingers and pointed to her bed to indicate for her to hurry and hide. Hermione jumped up and scurried over as he made another urgent flick of his finger.

A barrel-chested guy with muscular arms walked into the room. "Are you all right? Rowe told me you're still limping."

Hermione recognized him, but couldn't place where.

"I'm fine. It just hurts more when you're forced into a chair than if you change yourself," Severus answered smoothly, obviously good friends with the bloke. "Madam Pomfrey said I was fine and gave me a Pain Potion, but it only lessens the pain in my hips. I'll take more tonight."

The guy looked at the table and back at Severus. "You got a minute?"

"Sure," Severus said, setting down his quill.

"I was wondering what's going on with you and Mulciber?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Severus turned sideways on his chair, resting one elbow on the back and the other on the table. "Nothing is going on..."

"Mulciber is acting strange. I mean, the bloke's hardly a full quid in the head at the best of times, but he's becoming spacey." He shifted his weight as he glanced at the wall where Hermione's bed was.

She held her breath for a heartbeat. She knew that he couldn't see her, but he seemed to be looking right at her.

"I'm beginning to think that assault, the one that put him in hospital for two weeks, maybe it damaged him."

"How do you mean?" Severus asked, concerned.

"Rosier, Rowe, and Atkinson say they saw him on the grounds with you, but Mulciber claims he'd been revising... Well, he also thought the Bloody Baron or some ghost was at our Quidditch game against Hufflepuff. Remember, he kept going on about how ghosts can't be seen in the daylight?"

Hermione had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. He was talking about her! I was the one who had been in the Slytherin stands, and Mulciber thought I was a ghost!

"They must have just jumped to some conclusion... I bumped into Mulciber on the stairs, if I recall. We ran into them on the way here, in the dungeons," Severus stated, scowling. "Rosier said something about needing notes." He shrugged. "Maybe it's stress; it can do that, make you confused. It's not like the professors aren't all dumping extra work on us for end-of-year exams. Julianna Greengrass had to be given Calming Draught after freaking out in..."

Hermione relaxed, chuckling silently at Severus' explanation.

The guy narrowed his eyes and smirked at him. "It's more than that. Haven't you noticed anything... peculiar?"

"Avery, when hasn't Mulciber been peculiar?" Severus replied, rolling his hand over, palm up. "The bloke loves dissecting things and making the cats in the castle dance, for crying out loud. Even Mrs. Norris avoids him."

Avery snorted in what Hermione assumed was amusement, although she found nothing funny about torturing cats.

"I suppose." He looked around and turned back to Severus. "Some of us are planning a party for Rowe, for his birthday. You in?"

"Yeah, I'm in," Severus replied, lacing his fingers together. "Who's bringing the drinks?"

"Hornsby and Thortenson are," he said. His chest rose and fell as if he'd inhaled deeply. "Are you going to hang out with us?"

Severus turned to look at where Hermione was hidden and then at the books and parchments on the table. "I've been doing my essays in here instead of the library to avoid... problems."

Avery's expression turned dark.

"McGonagall gave me a warning," Severus sneered.

"Bitch! She's always protecting her precious cubs. Well, we have a bottle of Ogden's. Come have a drink with us."

"Let me finish this essay first," Severus said, and Avery gave him an incredulous stare. "Fifteen more minutes."

"Fine," Avery said, turning to go. "Just remember who your friends are. They're not those things made of pewter."

Hermione came out cautiously after the door slammed closed. "If you need to go, I'll understand."

"I need to get my work done," Severus replied, turning back to his essay.

Hermione's mouth pulled back, half-way between a frown and a smirk.

"I'll go have a drink in fifteen minutes and then come back," he said with a sigh, then looked up at her and smiled. "Besides, I'm well aware of who my friends are." He winked at her and turned his attention back to his parchment.

Her frown stretched into a huge smile as she sat down and picked up the book she'd been reading.

Severus knew he was being a jerk. He couldn't seem to help it. All she'd asked for was a shower, and he'd snapped at her. He lay on his back in bed, Levitating a wadded up piece of parchment. He turned his head and looked at the clock. Twenty after two. He sighed and let the parchment fall. His dorm mates were asleep, Mulciber, Townsend, and Avery all snoring away. He rose and slipped from the room as quietly as he could and checked to see if the common room was empty before heading for the door. He didn't see her when he'd entered the classroom. "Hermione?" he whispered in case she was sleeping.

"Here," she replied from across the room.

He followed her voice and saw that she was awake, sitting on her bed, reading one of the Transfiguration books he'd brought from the library. "I can sneak you into the showers now."

She set the book aside quietly as she rose, gathered her things from atop the desk by the bed and turned to face him.

In the dim light of the wall scones, he could see that her eyelashes were clumped, and her nose was somewhat red. She's been crying. "Ready?" he asked, feeling like dung for making her cry.

She followed him silently.

He Disillusioned her at the door and led the way, hearing her footsteps in the dead quiet of the dungeon corridor.

"I'm sorry I made you mad," she whispered once he'd closed the door to the bathroom.

"It wasn't you. I've been irritable," he replied in hushed tones. He sat on the bench, leaned against the wall and closed his eyes as the water in the last stall turned on.

A gentle hand on his knee jerked him awake. "Wha'?"

"I'm done," she said softly. "If you're that tired, I can see my own way back."

"Nah, I'm fine," he said as he collected her wet things to dump under his bed. The house-elves were getting really good about checking there for Hermione's soiled bedding and clothes and the wet towels. "Wait here for me. I'll only be a second." He whispered her name when he'd returned.

"Here," she whispered back from somewhere near the door.

He led the way back, removed the charm and followed her to her bed. "Do you want to talk?" he asked, his hand gripping one of the bedposts as he watched her put away the toiletries he'd absconded for her.

She shook her head.

"Hermione, I'm sorry." He was about to lose a friend for an indeterminate length of time, possibly forever, and it sucked. "Talk to me."

She turned to face him. "I was only asking you how it was done, and you snapped at me. I wasn't asking you to show me!"

So that's what she'd been crying about. "Human Transfiguration is really complex and difficult. You really have to be an advanced student to be able to do it," he said, this time much more rationally.

She shrugged and climbed into bed.

"Move over," he said, nudging her as he sat down next to her. He adjusted one of her pillows and leaned against the headboard.

She rolled onto her side.

"What did you want to know?" he asked when he assumed she was comfortable.

"According to Douglas C. Giancoli, when you are about to do human transformations, you must have a clear picture of the object you are attempting to morph into, the framework or anatomy, in every detail. He even went as far as to say hair, nails, the shapes of the bones, for instance. Paul Tipler disputes that in his book, saying that you only need to understand the form of that which you want to take, and envision yourself in that form. Who's right?"

He chuckled softly. "Sure, a nice simple theoretical discussion before bed. Wouldn't you prefer one of Beedle's Bardic stories instead?"

"Do you know any Bardic poems?" she asked, picking at a thread on the blanket.

He chuckled. "No. I meant... never mind." He leaned his head against the headboard. "If you're changing yourself into a inanimate object, you only have to visualize the object you want to be, such as a chair, a table, a rock, a log... whatever. Most of these things don't have moving parts or movable joints. Those are the easiest ones to do. If you want to be a clock, for instance, you have to visualize the moving parts: the hands of the clock, pendulum, or a coo-coo bird. It's totally different if you want to be an animal. Most of the time, unless you are an Animagus, becoming an animal is really difficult and most wizards get stuck." He yawned and continued, repeating what he remembered of Professor McGonagall's lectures.

Severus had no idea when he'd fallen asleep. The slamming of the door to the classroom jerked him awake. He had slumped down on her bed, and Hermione was lying next to him, one arm across his body. It felt weird, feeling her snuggle up against him. He lifted his head to look at her, but all he could see was a mass of brown hair and her cheek. He could feel her breath on his arm where her face pressed against him. When he moved, she curled her arm and tucked her hand under her chin. He slipped into the corridor, heading for the common room when Rosier and Thortenson saw him.

"Oi, there he is!" Thortenson yelled, running down the corridor as he urged Rosier to follow him.

"Where have you been? You were gone when everyone woke up. Your bed didn't even look slept in," Rosier said, coming to a halt in front of Severus.

"Nowhere. A walk," Severus said, looking confused. "I couldn't sleep."

"Merlin, we thought you'd been attacked again," Thortenson said.

"Not this early," Severus said nonchalantly with a snort. "What time is it anyway?"

"Breakfast," Rosier said, shaking his head. "Everyone is looking... never mind." He pulled out a small mirror and looked at the reflection. "He's okay. See you in the Great Hall."

"Com'on, let's go eat," Thortenson urged them. "So, what's got you all bothered that you can't sleep?"

Severus shrugged. "Transformation...Animagi... you know, it'd be cool," he lied.

"You've got to be kidding, is that all?" Thortenson scoffed, laughing humorlessly.

Rosier clapped him on the back. "I bet you'd be a bat."

"You'd be a badger," Severus replied, falling into step with his friends.

Severus knew it was time. It had been time. He'd only been delaying the inevitable, and his friends were coming around more, making things difficult. He held the Time-Turner out to her, urging her to take it.

"I could stay longer, even take us both back a week or more?" she asked, her hands clasped in front of her.

"We can't, Hermione." He shook his head. She was all packed; even the growling book was bound and stuffed into her bag. She pouted, actually pouted.

"Awful things can happen to wizards who meddle in time, Hermione. There is a war going on out there. The castle is in high alert for intruders. I have been really lucky sneaking you around like I have, but really, what if we were caught? How would you explain yourself? Or me? I live in this time. What if I see myself, or someone who knows me sees me in the castle knowing I'm somewhere else? The probabilities of what could happen are endless. I knew the risks the first time I agreed to hide you."

A tear escaped and slid down her cheek. "I'll miss you."

He looped the chain of the device around her neck and pulled her into a hug. "I'll miss you, too, my little Gryffindor. But, I know we'll see each other again."

She was clinging to him, her face buried in his chest. "I luf you."

He pulled back enough to look at her face. "What?"

"I'll miss this...you...spending time with you."

It's not what she'd said, but his heart felt heavy from the sentiment. "Me, too." He leaned down to kiss her cheek and felt her lips press against the corner of his mouth. He rested his forehead against hers. "You have to go."

She pulled back, tears streaming down her cheek.

"Aw, don't cry. It's not forever." He conjured a handkerchief and wiped her tears away. "Aren't you my brave little Gryffindor?"

"Yes," she said, trying to smile for him.

He cupped her face. "So, until we see each other again. Which for you will be only seconds, right?"

"Yeah, it's pretty fast. Until then," she said solemnly.

He stood back and crossed his arms.

She hitched her bag onto her shoulder and set the device spinning, vanishing from his sight.

~ T. B. C. ~