Out of Time

Chapter 29

There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet

- The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot

Hermione's glad she's of age. If she wasn't, she'd have needed her parents' approval to empty her bank account at Barclay's.

It's the latest step in a series of escalating preparations. Maybe she's being prudent; maybe she's allowing the planning to run away with her a bit. Either way, one thing leads to another and now she's stuffing nearly eight hundred and twenty pounds in her wallet.

This was supposed to be for uni. Her parents made her save aggressively for that, even though they could have funded it. That wasn't the point; the point was for Hermione to understand the value of both money and her education. Their offer was to match whatever Hermione was able to save (and fund the rest; Hermione isn't thick. They wouldn't have let her not go if she hadn't saved enough, but the learning opportunity was the same) and she'd done remarkably well before getting her Hogwarts letter. The rest is accrued holiday and birthday money she always deposited because she had no need for it at school.

Things had evolved (devolved?) from there in a predictable progression. Hermione had assessed the local outdoor supply store, feeling like a fish out of water - pun intended. Would they need fishing gear? Bait? If Mr Weasley was able to lend her the tent, that was that settled, but what if he couldn't? Should she purchase a tent and sleeping bags? It was a waste of limited money if she bought them and found out a month from now that Ron's dad could provide one.

Everything had to be measured, gauged, and decided. Hermione is the only one on the committee to make decisions. This is both good and bad.

After twelve and a half minutes of deep reflection, Hermione decides she prefers it this way. It's far more efficient to stop pretending to consider Ron's or Harry's thoughts on the matter. A committee in name only isn't worth much.

Her individual deep reflection spoke that she ought to save her money when possible and not spend it in Muggle outdoor supply retailers until she's sure Mr Weasley (or someone else) is unable to donate a tent to the cause. Their money is limited. So that's settled - for now.

She does spend her valuable Muggle pounds on outdoor wear she can enhance with magic. A heavy winter coat with built-in warming costs a lot more in the wizarding world than a Muggle overcoat with a charm on it. Hermione's capable of doing everything they need for far less money. She stocks their inventory with long johns, outerwear, and waterproof boots that she can arm against the cold and rain.

This takes a life of its own. The more she searches these outdoorsman retailers, the more she finds things they might need. Camp stoves and utensils? Water filtration?

Other things are simpler: beanie hats, gloves, scarves, tall woollen socks that make her think of Dobby. Half of that they already have and Hermione won't waste money replacing them (yet), but she packs what she can to set the warming charms on later. She does pick up a marvellous lightweight rain slicker that she can bolster with a good impervius, and some sturdy boots that will get the same treatment.

She's perfected the expandable weightlessness spell on a large pack. It makes her feel loads better about the situation, though she's working on the same charm on smaller bags. She can't walk around very well with a hiking pack high on her shoulders and still blend in.

Her parents are too perceptive. Hermione had hoped that spending ten months out of twelve away from home over the past six years would have dulled that somewhat, but it's not the case. They're so attuned to her when she's home and it's as if they can sense that something is off. She shouldn't be surprised; she's probably not being nearly as discreet as she'd like to believe. Hermione has a hard time pulling off 'nonchalant' and can admit it.