"Has it been of any use at all, Hermione?" Irma asked, leaning over her right shoulder as she scanned Hermione's notes.
It was late, and Hermione's eyes felt sore. She and Irma had been working in the Restricted Section for three days after Lucius dropped in unannounced. Between the two of them, they scoured the Restricted Section for everything they could find about time travel and Time-Turners. Much of it was redundant, and Hermione had encountered most of it. Still, there were a few nuggets.
"If only to confirm a few ideas I had in the past, so no, it isn't..." she trailed.
Irma sank down in the chair next to Hermione in what she came to call the 'lounge' of the Restricted Section. Irma had a few more books to pour through, but Hermione knew it would be pointless.
Hermione sniffed and closed the last book in her stack of over a dozen. Irma turned in her chair, her knees pointed at Hermione. She rested her right elbow on the table and rested her head against her fist. Hermione allowed the older woman to study her silently, but she knew Irma was barely holding in some sort of feelings.
"You..." she trailed. "You do not think you will get back, do you?"
Hermione sighed, and slowly turned her head toward Irma. She looked on the verge of tears. It was absolutely unsettling.
"I know I don't."
"You do not even hope?"
Hermione shook her head and felt something hitch in her chest. Breathing through it, her eyes fell to her notes. Everything she had read about time travel was mostly conjecture. There was only one written account of a woman who had traveled back five hours in 1878 trying to save her fiance from death in a flying accident. She did not succeed, and in her grief managed to keep her head on and write of the dangers, and traumas, of time travel. It was not long after that incident in Derbyshire that Professor Croaker published a treatise and established the law of his name.
Of course, it would be in her lifetime that Professor Croaker's law would be put to the test.
"Not even hope..." she whispered in answer.
Irma stared holes into the side of her face. "I'm...I'm so sorry, Hermione," she whispered, reaching over to place a thin hand on her wrist.
Hermione felt another hitch, and then, it all started coming out. About Ron, her children, her work. She was not sure why she felt so at ease with telling Irma Pince the sort of things you'd tell your therapist, or, your mother... Hermione sniffed. She missed her mum.
"I...I...think maybe after so long that I could have been happy. I was happy...with my children...but..."
"You married. You married the Weasley boy," it was not a question, but Hermione nodded. "Did he...?" Irma whispered, and Hermione lifted her teary eyes to the older woman.
"No..." understanding her meaning. "He wouldn't dare."
Irma sighed. "It took me years to understand it, that abuse isn't just an angry drunk taking out his insecurities on those closest to them. Its verbal, its emotional, its...sexual.
And I have watched the boy. All these years he sulked in my library. All those years he watched you and the Potter boy. Maybe it was poor parenting, maybe it was just bad luck he was the youngest boy..."
Hermione snorted, and Irma's expression softened.
"Jealous. I saw jealousy," Irma whispered.
Hermione nodded and pulled her hands into her lap, dislodging Irma's grasp. Irma sat back, and sighed.
YOU ARE READING
I hold the universe when I hold you
FanfictionHermione Granger is done, well, she still has one child to raise, but she is done with the rest of it. Her term as Minister is over, the time line has been saved, she finally got the divorce, and her Rose (too young to marry, in her opinion) is repa...
