How the Mighty have Fallen

Author’s note: The fast update is due to the fact that I will be on Spring Break… although I will be writing, I probably will be without internet access and thus unable to update for about nine days. Oh, and my chapter’s names will become different once again… I just couldn’t help myself.

Hermione was frustrated. She folded her arms across her chest as she wasn’t attempting to hide her irritation. He was right, though, she wouldn’t be going anywhere with a broken time-turner. And luckily, or so she thought, she had the most gifted wizard willing to help rectify this problem. At least he had been willing to help. Currently they were at an impasse. Unfortunately, Hermione realized that she would have to concede defeat; he wasn’t a man easily out maneuvered. His triumph against Grindelwald and his future role as mastermind for the resistance in both wars was proof of that. That didn’t mean she had to accept defeat gracefully.


“Rather ruthless of you; coercing me into compliance,” Hermione stated harshly.


Hermione instantly regretted her words and the tone that accompanied them at the pained look that crossed the Professor’s face.


“Sir,” Hermione began remorsefully but Dumbledore forestalled her apology with, “I deserved that.” As a look of disagreement blossomed upon her face he decided to placate the girl.


“Do not misunderstand me. I am not arrogant enough to believe I am solely to blame. As my accomplice Fate has a rather large hand in the matter,” he asserted.


“Fate,” Hermione spat derisively tightening her crossed arms as she spoke.


“Yes, fate, sometimes it is as inescapable as death,” he kindly maintained.


With a shuddering exhale of breathe Hermione asked resigned, “Why tell me in advance if it will happen regardless?”


“I had hoped to spare you from an internal struggle caused by befriending them,” Dumbledore replied softly; as if he realized now how futile that goal was.


“I suppose knowing is better than not,” she said hesitantly, not quite believing her own words.


“Now, becoming their friend can’t be that awful,” he reassured calmly.


“Then you be their friend,” Hermione said crossly, fully realizing how petulant she sounded.


Dumbledore just beamed in reply.


He was eroding all of her anger with his understanding; she reflected.


The girl was slowly coming around and he knew just how to push her over the edge; or at least he hoped his suspicions were right.


“Hermione, do not tell me what happens in the future, but is the future agreeable?” he asked with a hint of trepidation as the answer was of great importance.


“Yes,” she replied uncertainly; as she was unsure of where this was leading.


“The future is a direct result of what has already happened in the past,” he trailed off to allow the meaning to sink in. He figured he needn’t spell everything out for her and he was proved correct when she tightly replied, “I see.”


“Professor, I was wondering, how do you know my surname? I noticed it wasn’t mentioned in the prophecy,” Hermione noted astutely.


“Simply enough answered. Seer Trelawney was haunted by that name. And she asked everyone if they knew of a Hermione Dagworth, but to no avail. So when I suspected your connection to the prophecy I took a chance. As I had always figured the two were linked,” he answered.


“Sir, I am in need of some information,” Hermione stated and continued at his encouraging nod, “The year, the month, and the date, please,” she said, “Oh, and the day would be helpful as well,” she added in a rush.


“It is 1971. October the first on a glorious Friday evening,” he helpfully supplied.


“Professor, I haven’t any other clothes or supplies and I didn’t have any money on me at the time…,” Hermione trailed hesitantly.


“Funding for such things will be provided by scholarship before school resumes on Monday,” he said alleviating her fears.


“Before we ask Mr. Malfoy to join us, is there anything that you told your classmates about your life?” he worded his question carefully so as to indicate that he meant her fictional alibi. He most certainly didn’t want to offend the intelligent witch with allegations of letting the cat out of the bag; as the muggles put it.


“I told Mr. Malfoy that I attended Beauxbatons until this current school year; but I only know a limited amount of French. I am posing as a pureblood distantly related to Potioneer Dagworth-Granger that until recently grew up in England. I said that I moved to France when I was fifteen,” she finished succinctly; confident that she had remembered everything.


“Sir, I was thinking I’d let them know I was disowned by my parents. Also, that I’m orphaned… if it comes to that,” Hermione said with a questioning quality to her voice.


“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “being disowned should suit your purposes nicely,” he affirmed.


Although he was beginning to realize how clever the girl really was he needed to warn her of the dangers of purposefully meddling with time; especially because she was clever.


“Hermione, you cannot tell anyone their future. And, you mustn’t breathe a word of when you are from,” he added, as a precaution, in a firm voice.


“Of course, sir, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Hermione responded airily though honestly.


“We are almost through,” Dumbledore said gently; when Hermione stifled a yawn behind her left hand.

Lucius was growing restless though it only showed in his stiff posture. But, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to accompany the new girl back to the Slytherin dorms. He was so absorbed in wondering why the meeting was taking so long that he was genuinely surprised when a note shaped as a phoenix appeared before his eyes. What did the Headmaster want? Ah, his presence was requested.


Lucius arrived shortly; very shortly. Just as the Headmaster had expected, he had been waiting just outside.


“Why don’t you have a seat Mr. Malfoy?” Dumbledore prompted; as it looked like Lucius was going to remain standing.


Once Lucius was seated Dumbledore began.


“Miss Dagworth has missed quite a few lessons and will require a tutor and you are the natural choice as head boy. As head boy you will also help her acclimate to the school,” Dumbledore instructed.


“Yes, sir,” Lucius answered respectfully.


“I’m sure Mr. Malfoy has more important matters that occupy his time. I’m sure I’ll manage just fine,” Hermione tried to reason.


“But Miss. Dagworth, I do not wish for you to manage; but to flourish!” Dumbledore countered enthusiastically.


“It isn’t a problem Miss. Dagworth,” Lucius reassured.


Fate, Hermione thought, seemed suspiciously familiar.


Fate thy name is Albus Dumbledore.