Twisting Time

An uneasy feeling

The North Tower

Hogwarts Castle

22 September 1993 

"What a miserable old hag!" Ron exclaimed rather loudly, as he plonked his way down the steep wooden ladder. Breathing in large gulps of the cool fresh air, and feeling immensely glad to finally have escaped from the sweltering heat of the stuffy classroom.

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed beside him, promptly elbowing him in the ribs. "She'll hear you"

"Who? Trelawney? She's like a hundred years old, she probably can't hear a thing."

"Yeah, but still!"

Ron shot Hermione a pointed look, before his gaze finally settled on Harry. "What's up with the old bat predicting your death all the time? You'd think she'd have given up by now."

Harry let out an exasperated sigh, "I've been asking myself the exact same thing."

"She's clearly off her rocker" Ron replied instantly. "I'm sure spending all your time cooped up in that tiny room, filled with all those weird scents would drive anyone mad. Not to mention the heat, bloody hell! I'd burn to death, before I'd even had time to make a cup of tea!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the wild hand gestures that accompanied Ron's statement. And although they earned quite a few funny looks from passing students, Harry felt rather pleased that he could always count on his best friend to help cheer him up.

"Anyway, the whole subject is a complete load of rubbish" Hermione stated matter-of-factly as they made their way down the corridor, "I think we're just wasting our time."

"Your only saying that because you're not any good at it," Ron shot back. "And Trelawney hates you"

"She does not!"

Ron raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it further. However, that apparently wasn't the right thing to do, as Hermione let out a loud huff and sent a sharp glare in his direction.

And if looks could kill, Hermione most certainly would've been shipped straight off to Azkaban, guilty of the murder of Ronald Weasley.

"All I'm saying," Hermione pushed," is that I have much more important things to be doing."

"Yeah, like what?"

"What do you mean, like what?" She asked incredulously, before beginning to rattle off her seemingly endless to-do list, her voice rising by the second.

"We have that foot long essay due for Snape AND the essay on ancient goblin rebellions for Binns. We need to practice those spells for both Flitwick and McGonagall, we have star charts to complete for Astronomy, AND I have an Arithmancy exam in four weeks, that I seriously need to start studying for! And not to mention those stupid dream diaries Trelawney gave us, which are utterly ridiculous if you ask me..."

Harry and Ron shared a look, but wisely kept their mouths shut, silently hoping that Hermione would calm down. However, their hopes plummeted as she came to a sudden halt, her expression quickly morphing from irritation to panic, as realisation dawned on her face.

"Oh no, I've completely lost track of time" she muttered under her breath. "How could I be so stupid!"

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, his green eyes flickering with concern.

"Umm.." Hermione said, glancing down at her watch before looking back up at Harry. "I'm really sorry, but I've got to go!"

She threw a hasty good bye over her shoulder, offering no further explanation as she hurtled down the corridor, almost colliding with a group of very scared looking first years. She began hurling apologies left and right, as she left even more dazed and confused students in her wake.

"Where do you think she needs to go in such a hurry?" Harry asked, watching as Hermione barreled straight into Professor Flitwick, almost knocking over the poor fellow.

Harry and Ron both looked at each other, then back at Hermione's retreating figure.

"Probably the library" they said in perfect unison.

"Why wouldn't she say something though?" Harry asked, glancing at Ron "She normally tells us where she's going. And come to think of it, she has been acting quite strange lately."

Ron shrugged, not seeming at all bothered by Hermione's sudden departure. "She's probably just doing some super top-secret research in the library or something. You know how touchy she is when it comes to her beloved reading time."

Harry sighed, still not feeling thoroughly convinced.

"Come on mate, it's lunch time. I'm sure she'll turn up sooner or later, with some amazing breakthrough knowledge to dazzle us with. But as of right now, I'm absolutely starving."

Having had his mind completely occupied with thoughts of Hermione's odd behaviour, dementors and large black dogs, Harry hadn't realised just how starving he was too. And how much he longed to sink his teeth into some tender roast chicken and creamy mashed potatoes. Just the mere thought of it made his mouth water.

"Okay, your probably right" Harry conceded, turning left towards the dining hall. The delicious smell of lunch chasing away his troubled thoughts, and making his stomach grumble in anticipation. 

"Let's go eat."

And although the steaming hot food seemed to temporarily drive Hermione from his mind, Harry still couldn't quite shake this uneasy feeling.

The feeling, that something was about to go, terribly wrong.