The misty morning warned of a cool day and truly, many Gryffindors burrowed into their comforters, unwilling to get up to face the chill. All, save one.
Hermione was sitting by the fire in the common room, working hard on hats and scarves for any house elves looking for freedom. She was also determined to catch Harry alone. Though he wasn't an early riser, there was a better chance of him waking before Ron, unless the red-head decided he was far too famished to sleep another wink.
One by one the Gryffindors woke. Hermione could hear their groans of protest as various charms and magical trinkets forced themselves upon their owners in an attempt to fulfill their duty of waking them up for class. Some relied on their friends to wake them and indeed there were noises of protest.
Unsurprisingly, Hermione noted Neville carrying a potted plant from the boy's dormitory to a warm corner in the common room. He cherished his plants and took very good care of them, better care than he paid his toad.
"Busy forcing freedom onto unwilling elves, I see." Ron snarked when he spotted her bushy head peeking out from an armchair where Hermione curled behind, Crookshanks nestled on the armrest.
"And I suppose the only reason you got out of bed so early is to fill that cavernous black hole you call a stomach." Hermione retorted calmly.
At that moment, Ron's stomach gave a deep growl and he chuckled sheepishly.
"Well, I'm off to breakfast–"
"-hang on." Hermione said, "I need to speak to you and Harry."
"Can't it wait?" Ron asked, one hand on his stomach and the other in his hair.
Hermione considered her options and nodded. She originally intended to speak with Harry first before laying it on Ron because if there was anyone who hated Malfoy more than Harry, it was Ron.
The years of bullying have affected Ron much more than it had Harry. Most likely due to the fact that the Malfoys never took an off day to point out how poorly the Weasleys were doing. As if money and prestige were the most important things in life. But to some people, and this was something that was lost on Ron, was that money and prestige were all that they had.
"I suppose... Go on then, I'll wait for Harry and we'll catch up."
Ron nodded and left the common room in search of piping hot soups that were known to crop up when the weather turned dreary.
Hermione made three more scarves and was on her fourth pair of mittens before Harry appeared.
"Late night with Professor Dumbledore," Harry yawned when Hermione questioned his lateness. "It's a weekend, isn't it?"
A look of panic washed over his features which was only soothed when he caught sight of the calendar hanging over the fireplace.
"Why are you up so early?" He asked suspiciously.
"It's almost Christmas," Hermione interjected, "Freedom might be a nice gift for some..."
Harry gave a non-commital grunt and turned to leave, but Hermione called him back.
"Er– how's everything coming along with Dumbledore?"
"Badly," Harry said and threw himself into the armchair nearest to the fireplace.
"Remember how he showed me that memory that was tampered with? It belongs to a person called Horace Slughorn and we've been trying to convince him to give up the real memory." Harry rubbed the spot between his eyes where his glasses perched on his nose, "As you can imagine, he isn't too keen on giving up something that might implicate him. He must have told Voldemort how to split his soul and make horcruxes, but Dumbledore thinks that there may be more information that can help."
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The Lost Timeline | Dramione | ✔
Fanfiction"Do not make the mistake of thinking I care what you think of me." She looked down and saw her book in his other hand. The unexpected kindness in the midst of poison was more than she could bear and she took it from him quickly before breaking into...
