Waiting for later to come seemed to take forever. Even with so many amazing books surrounding me, none could hold my attention. All I kept thinking about was Oliver and what his reaction would be when I told him the truth. Or what Harry, Hermione, and Ron would do with the information I was about to give them. Thinking about the repercussions made me second guess if it was even the right thing to do.
Then I thought about the reality of it all. None of the things I was living was real. I was falling for someone who was fictional. Keeping secrets from the very people who were the secrets. And for what? To keep the plot from falling apart? To make sure the story stays intact when that story includes the death of a lot of characters I love?
My very presence had already changed the course of the story. From Professor Quirrell and the stone to Voldemort and Harry, it had already changed. Quirrell was alive. Voldemort was after me. Dumbledore was made aware of things he had yet to learn. Harry was still the Boy Who Lived, but I was the girl who was tired of living a lie.
I picked up a random book and opened it. "Raaaaawr!" Fire shot from its pages and a wave of heat circled my head, causing me to slam it shut and slide it back into the slot I'd taken it from. Looking at the spine, which read A Guide to Dragons, I realized I needed to go to a different section of the library.
Turning the corner at the end of the shelf, I almost ran right into Hermione. "Oh, hey."
She smiled awkwardly. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Sure."
We walked to a nearby table on the other side of the library so if anyone came close enough to hear our conversation, we'd know.
"I'm not going to lie," she started. "I'm not so sure I trust you."
I wasn't expecting that but understood. I'm sure my sudden appearance and unusual situation wasn't in any textbook. And since Hermione was a rational and methodical person, why should she simply take me at my word? Even for Hogwarts, it was odd and hard to fathom. I was living it and it was still hard to believe.
"Knowing who you are, I'd be surprised if you did," I admitted.
A slight chuckle escaped her. "And what do you mean by that, exactly?"
"Only that you're very smart and don't fall for things easily."
She gave me the side-eye. "How would you know anything about my level of intelligence? And how do you know what my parents do for a living? Or Ron's, for that matter? How do you know these things?"
Seeing the curiosity and eagerness to know the truth seeping out of her, I realized this scenario was perfect. Instead of divulging everything to everyone later, I could simply tell her and see what she thought I should do. Let's be honest, she was the smartest of the group. Maybe telling the four of them, together, wasn't such a good idea after all.
"What I'm about to tell you is going to seem crazy, but please keep an open mind. And remember, I've been given Veritaserum and my story has never wavered."
When she nodded, I told her everything. From the ride, to falling onto Oliver's broom, and everything in between up until that very moment. Not once did she try to stop me or interrupt with any questions. Instead, she listened intently to every word I said. Once I was finished, she was still eyeing me intently, but I could tell it was out of pure curiosity and wonderment, not doubt.
"You do realize that what you're saying is impossible, don't you?" she questioned. "If what you're saying is true, which it apparently is, if you've been given Veritaserum," she added, more to herself than to me, "then...." She looked down at the floor, then back up at me. "Excuse me for a moment."
She got up and disappeared between two tall bookshelves. After a few minutes, she returned with a rather thick book, dropping it onto the table in front of us with a loud thud, which caused a distant, "Shh," to echo through the library.
Looking at the musty-smelling book, I was anxious to see what she was about to tell me. "I hope there's some important information in there that can help get me home." I was doubtful, since I knew if anyone could get me home or had any information that might help, it was Dumbledore. And if he didn't know....
"Not exactly," she said, "but I do remember reading about something that may be important." She flipped through several pages, going back and forth until she found what she was looking for. "Here it is," she said eagerly as she ran her finger along the words, reading to herself.
"Here what is?" I asked.
She sank in her chair. "No, that's not it. I thought you may have somehow come across a Time-Turner that had been meddled with. However, they're kept at the Ministry of Magic, and you have to have special permission to be able to use one." She slammed the book shut and sighed. "There has to be something I've missed."
"Don't feel bad. Dumbledore and everyone else here, for that matter, can't figure it out, either."
I could hear the wheels turning inside her head. "There has to be something we're missing," she repeated. "But what could it be?"
"Maybe it's all a dream," I suggested. "That's the most obvious explanation I can think of. I fell, hit my head, and am dreaming all of this."
She sniggered. "If that were true, I would merely be a facet of your subconscious mind. I'd be nothing more than a figment of your imagination. So, of course, that's not it, since I'm just as real as you are."
"Technically, though, you are a figment of someone's imagination, it's just not my imagination," I reminded her, since I'd also explained the books to her. When I said I told her everything, I told her everything.
She laughed. "Maybe you did hit your head, and pretty hard, I'd venture to say."
I could tell she was only kidding... to a degree. I'm sure a small part of her did think I'd hit my head and was still loopy from it. Maybe she'd be right in thinking that. That seemed more logical than the truth. More logical than my reality, at the moment.
"There's more I need to tell you," I admitted. "A lot more."
Her smile faded as I began to tell her the story--hers and Harry's, not mine. I gave her the condensed version of every book, only touching on the important parts that she needed to be made aware of. The longer I spoke, the closer she leaned in. At times, when she realized her mouth was hanging open, she'd snap it shut. When I finished, she stared at me in contemplative silence.
"Well?" I asked softly, anxiously awaiting her reply.
"Well?" She shook her head. "Well, you sound mad. Even so, how... how could you know all of these things? And how can we be fictional?" She tittered nervously. "It's incomprehensible."
"Trust me, the fact that I'm here, talking to you, is incomprehensible," I agreed, "but I am. I can't explain it or begin to wrap my head around it, but it happened. I'm not here to cause trouble, even though I have; I just want to go home."
She gave me the side-eye, again, but the perception of those eyes had changed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I believe you." She lowered her gaze and pulled the book closer to her chest. "I'm not saying I'm fictional or that none of this--" she pointed all around her "--isn't real, but I don't believe you're lying, either."
"I'm not." I leaned toward her. "Trust me. Nobody could make something like this up." I couldn't help but grin. "Well, except for J.K. Rowling, of course, since she technically did make all of this up." Hermione was frowning at me, again. "But you know what I mean. My reality and this reality... well, they're worlds apart." Literally.
As she looked at me, I wish I knew what she was thinking. Regardless, she appeared to be on my side. She believed me.
"So, should I tell the others?" I asked. "Harry, Ron, Oliver? Or just wait and see what happens."
After contemplating my question for several seconds, she nodded her head. "We definitely need to tell them, including Oliver, I suppose." She smiled. "It's obvious that he fancies you, and he'd be devastated if you were to disappear or if he should find out some other way. I'd at least tell him the truth so, if that should happen, he'll be prepared."
"But will he ever really be prepared for what I'm about to tell him?"
She picked the book up from the table and held it close to her chest. "Is anyone ever really prepared for what the future holds?"
I shook my head. "Professor Lupin was right; you really are the cleverest witch of your age."
She smiled. "Thanks, but who is Professor Lupin?"
"You'll see," I replied, wondering if I'd be stuck at Hogwarts so long that I'd get to meet him, too.
I hoped not.