Triple Time

Triple Time

By Mary Sas

Hermione awoke face-first and disoriented. She yawned, massaging the place where her forehead had connected painfully with the edge of Numerology and Gramatica. And why was she lying on the dormitory floor? Ah yes, she was supposed to be cramming for Vector's mammoth quiz tomorrow. Tomorrow?...No... She gazed blearily at her watch. Today then. It was ten minutes of two in the morning.

The room was quiet. Lavender wasn't snoring and Parvati had stopped muttering in her sleep. Of course, Hermione thought. They would wait till I'm completely studied out to give me some peace.

Hermione gave another tremendous yawn and heaved herself to her feet, being careful not to upset the inkwell in the process. She debated picking up the books and parchment cluttering the floor before going to bed, but settled on stacking them neatly where they were. No one was going to bother a pile of Muggle Studies and Arithmancy notes in the night, no matter how thorough and neat they happened to be.

Sad, really, Hermione thought, kicking her slippers off and nudging them into line under the end of her bed. Those notes were thorough indeed, and fascinating! Especially that latest theory about the numerological correlation between one's MAQ (Magical Ability Quotient) and the median value of the letters in the middle name of one's closest Muggle relative.

Well, that theory was rubbish; of that she was certain. Still, it will be fun to tackle in class.

Hermione pulled her bed curtains shut, her thoughts turning back to first names. Names like Ron, and Harry, and Lucius, and Buckbeak...and had she found enough magical law ammo to get Buckbeak out of Lucius' grasp? Harry and Ron certainly weren't helping. All Ron could think about was that stupid rat. All Harry could think about was getting his stupid Firebolt back from McGonagall.

Oh, I don't have time for this, Hermione chided. She tried to clear her mind...to will the tired cogs to a standstill.

Sleep, she ordered. You barely have four hours as it is.

But, sleep did not come. It was too bright for one thing, with the moon full and glowering in the window above her pillow, and Lavender's nightlight doing its cheery best to dilute the remaining gloom.

Hermione curled into a ball under her blankets in search of said remaining gloom. She soon became too hot and had to stretch out again. But, that was uncomfortable. Maybe if she rolled over...

She did just that, but felt no better, having landed on something hard jabbing between her ribs.

It was the Time Turner. She had forgotten to take it off earlier. Thanking Heaven that neither roommate had asked about it, Hermione sat up and pulled the delicate chain over her head, freeing it from an entangling thicket of hair. She had just reached out to place the offending hourglass on the bedside table when someone cleared a throat very nearby.

Hermione snatched her hand back behind the canopy, her heart jumping into a sort of nervous jig. "Who..." she said aloud. "What's wrong?" She clasped the Time Turner close instinctively, her eyes straining to see who was up and about near her bed. "Parvati...?"

"Ssssh. It's me," said a familiar whisper. Hermione could just make out a vague silhouette rolling blackly across the curtain as the intruder walked the length of the bed. Whoever it was was in no hurry. The shadow seemed to be negotiating obstacles on the floor as it advanced.

Reaching the head of the bed, the shadow person moved the drape aside to peer in. Hermione moaned wordlessly, making a suitably annoyed face.

"Sorry," said the intruder. "I know I'm the last person you want to see just now."

Hermione felt the hourglass being snatched from her hand, and heard it drop softly onto the bedside table. She didn't move. "I don't want to see anyone just now, actually. I'd rather sleep. Please tell me I'm gonna get some sleep."

"You will," the visitor assured her. "I won't stop you." All the same, the intruder ducked around the drape and sat heavily on the bed, clearly not intending to leave either.

"Well, there's a load of rubbish if I ever heard one," Hermione said. "You wouldn't be here at all if sleep were on the agenda anytime soon."

"I said I'm sorry, didn't I?" It was a hiss of annoyance this time. "Now budge up and give a girl some room, will you, or neither of us will get any sleep, and someone we both know and love will end up on the floor."

"Quiet down," said Hermione. "If Lavender or Parvati wakes up and finds you here..."

Just then, both girls heard a soft breath of surprise from without. There was someone lurking beyond the hangings--someone who had undoubtedly heard.

Hermione clutched the other girl's arm. "Now look what you've...Wand!...Where's your wand?" It was all she could do to keep from frisking the other girl for some means of self-defense. Her own wand was just out of reach on the table.

"Oh, hush. Let go of me. We don't need a wand."

"I do," said the lurker in some urgency. "I just kicked ink all over the carpet, and my slippers...and it's even on the..."

"Ssssh," said both girls.

"Scurgify," said the lurker, just as loudly as before. "And I'm packing some of this stuff away before one of us trips and possibly kills us all."

Hermione laughed despite the mounting dread she was feeling. This endless night was stretching longer before her very eyes. At this rate, she'd never be rested enough for any quiz, let alone for a research session for Buckbeak's inquest and finishing...whatever homework she had yet to do this week. She was too dead to recall just which subjects those might be.

"So," Hermione began uncertainly. "You're here because...you had nightmares, and you wanna kip out under my bed." This was more a useless statement of the obvious than a question.

"Oh, I slept fine," the lurker assured her. "I thought I'd better study a bit more." She swung into view at the end of the bed flourishing what appeared to be a potions text and a roll of parchment.

Hermione slapped a hand to her forehead in self-disgust. "Snape's exam! Oh, no, I completely forgot!"

"Well, you still have time, don't you?"

Hermione bit back a scathing reply.

The third girl merely tut-tutted before diving under the bed after her book. She seemed to be whispering and bumping around for a few moments--conjuring pillows to dam up the space between bed and floor--Hermione imagined. It wouldn't do to have Lavender noticing wandlight under Hermione's bed and wandering over to investigate. The possibility, although highly improbable given the already well-lit room, was not worth risking.

"Right," said the would-be bed mate. "We've got some serious sleeping to do." She was now on all fours on the far side of the bed, pulling the coverlets down to crawl in.

Hermione sighed and collapsed dramatically back on her pillows. She knew when she was beat. There was nothing to do now but try to sleep, even though she could have bet her mother's middle name at dawn.

And that was another thing. Which middle name mattered when the Witch or Wizard in question had Muggle parents? Parents were the closest of close relations. Or was one considered closer than the other in Magical circles? Perhaps you were supposed to average out the median value of both names. Hermione smiled. Maybe that's why my MAQ seems so high, she mused before falling asleep.

"Up," said the giant Hippogriff in the dream. "Get up, Hermione."

She opened her eyes. The face looming above hers wasn't particularly aquiline. It was her own. She rolled away in retreat, only to encounter her face again.

Now she was fully awake. The sleeping face beside her was pale in a pre-dawn gray. The room would be awake any minute now.

"Hermione," she hissed. She prodded the pale cheek nearest her own. One eye was triggered open, but closed again immediately.

The looming Hermione would have none of it. Without warning, she dived across the bed, pinning all legs beneath her. "Wake up, you lazy indolent," she said in a mock yell, shaking the girl by the shoulders. "Snape's exam, remember? You've overslept. Time to go!"

"She's awake," said Hermione. "Pipe down, will you? You'll be heard."

Across the room, Parvati groaned experimentally, rallying for a go at semi-consciousness.

"That's your cue," ordered the perkiest Hermione, leaning beyond the curtain to grab the hourglass from the night table. "I think this one's yours. Good luck." She paused, looking down at her slippers. "And watch out for that inkwell."

Hermione took the necklace in both hands, letting the pendant dangle a moment as she yawned sluggishly. Operation Sleep: Take two, she thought, watching the hourglass twist slowly in the first rays of dawn. "I wonder how many extra hours this thing is aging me, she said aloud. "I'll probably look like a crone before the year's out."

The Time Turner only gleamed in crystalline indifference.

"Go-go-GO! Hurry!"

"Yes, yes. I'm going."

And she did.