When Hermione spotted Kyle, she forced a reluctant smile, as though trying to greet him, but with her dark circles and an expression on the verge of tears, she didn’t look cheerful at all.
Kyle hesitated, then walked over and sat down across from her.
“Hello, Kyle,” Hermione greeted him, her voice sounding hoarse.
Kyle glanced at the open books on her desk: Why Muggles Need Electricity, along with texts on Arithmancy, Divination, and Ancient Runes.
“So, you’ve decided to use the Ti-Turner, haven’t you?” Kyle asked in a low voice.
Hermione paused mid-page turn, then nodded. “Mm… I can’t give up any of my classes. I just… can’t.”
“But you don’t look very well,” Kyle observed. “Are you sure you can keep this up until the end of the school year?”
Hermione’s face had a weary, drained look, not unlike Lupin’s had on the train at the start of term, as if she might collapse any mont. Kyle doubted she’d last until the exams without falling asleep right in the middle of one.
“I don’t know…” Hermione admitted, running her fingers through her tangled hair, looking thoroughly frustrated. Her voice was a bit louder than intended, drawing a few disapproving looks. Fortunately, Madam Pince was far enough away not to overhear.
“What did you do before, Kyle?” Hermione asked, desperate. “You took every class, too, but you got high marks—even perfect scores. I thought if I had a Ti-Turner, I could handle it just as well, but it’s nothing like I imagined.”
Hermione tugged at her hair again. “The more I use the Ti-Turner, the worse my mory gets, and I can’t focus in class. If this keeps up, I’ll barely scrape E’s on my exams. Professor McGonagall will be so disappointed if I don’t get straight O’s…”
As she continued, Hermione grew more and more distraught, until tears spilled from her eyes.
She hadn’t confided in anyone for a long ti, especially since Christmas, after she’d told Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt incident, which had cost Gryffindor the Quidditch match against Slytherin. Practically overnight, she’d beco the most unpopular person in school; even Harry and Ron had stopped speaking to her.
But Hermione had been too overwheld by her heavy workload to care much about popularity. Where was the ti to worry about anything besides classes?
Only recently, after they won the match against Hufflepuff, had things begun to thaw. But even then, Harry and Ron weren’t any help. They often only made matters worse, and at tis, she almost wished they’d stay silent altogether. At least then she wouldn’t be distracted from her studies by argunts or, for instance, by Harry’s ill-advised escapade to Hogsade, which had led to him getting caught by Professor Snape.
Hermione simply couldn’t understand why Harry had taken such a reckless risk. Of all people, he knew Sirius Black was hunting him. Why would he put himself in danger like that?
anwhile, across from her, Kyle was unaware of her swirling thoughts; he rely assud the Ti-Turner was wearing her out.
And that was understandable. Percy had gone through the sa thing; after an entire school year using the Ti-Turner, he’d been utterly frazzled. As soon as the holidays began, he was practically begging to return it.
As Diana had once explained, the Ti-Turner could take you back in ti physically, but it couldn’t turn back the clock on your mind. With only so much energy to go around, it was inevitable that sothing would eventually give.
Kyle tapped his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “Can I ask—do you use the Ti-Turner every day?”
“Every day,” Hermione nodded.
“And how much ti are you adding?”
“Before Christmas, it was about two or three hours. Now it’s up to six,” Hermione replied.
Six hours? Kyle shook his head. That ant Hermione was essentially awake for 22 hours a day, and she’d kept this up for nearly three months. No wonder she looked so exhausted.
“My advice is still the sa: drop two subjects—Divination and Muggle Studies,” Kyle said. “Those two classes are useless to you and just a waste of ti.”
This ti, Hermione didn’t argue. She hadn’t believed him before, but now she was starting to see that Kyle had a point.
“And try not to use the Ti-Turner outside of classes,” Kyle continued. “I doubt your schedule overlaps every single day.”
“Three tis a week,” Hermione admitted.
“So what do you do with the extra ti—reading and howork?”
“No,” Hermione shook her head. “Mostly I use it to study Ancient Runes. It’s really interesting, but also incredibly hard, and one lesson a week just isn’t enough.”
As she said this, Hermione suddenly looked up at him. “I heard Professor Babbling say you scored perfectly on your Ancient Runes exam last year, and the last student to do that was fifty years ago. You’re really able to keep up with the class without a Ti-Turner?”
This was sothing Hermione had been dying to ask. She spent hours every day struggling to keep up with Ancient Runes, and she couldn’t fathom how Kyle managed it with just one class per week.
“Well… our situations are a bit different,” Kyle said evasively. “Mainly, I t soone during the holidays—a really enthusiastic teacher who gave one-on-one lessons in Ancient Runes. It was like having a private tutor all break long, so it makes sense that I’d do well.”
“A private tutor?” Hermione’s eyes widened in awe and envy.
“Was it Professor Babbling?” she asked, hopeful.
“No,” Kyle shook his head, “it was soone else. He wanted to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, but Dumbledore didn’t agree.”
“Oh, why couldn’t he apply for Ancient Runes instead!” Hermione said, frustrated. She looked at Kyle hopefully. “Does he still teach you? Could you recomnd him to Hogwarts?”
“If there was an extra professor, maybe we’d have more than one class per week.”
“Unfortunately,” Kyle replied, “he left last year, and I don’t know where he is now.”
Hermione’s shoulders slumped a little. She’d been hoping for more Ancient Runes classes.
“Here’s so advice,” Kyle said, watching her carefully. “Forget everything you learned in the first Ancient Runes class. It won’t help you now. Just follow the book’s order—if you do that, you’ll find it’s not as difficult as it seems.”
“Forget?” Hermione repeated, bewildered. “But the combination formula for runes is essential. I read that it’s the most important part!”
The combination of runes? If Kyle rembered right, that was the last chapter in Advanced Runes—material ant for sixth-years. Professor Babbling’s odd sense of humor clearly hadn’t changed.
“Forget it,” Kyle insisted. “You can’t understand the combinations until you’ve mastered the basics of arranging and writing the runes. It’s like Transfiguration: you don’t start by turning a teacup into a rabbit; you start with a matchstick into a needle.”
“But…” Hermione blinked in confusion. “If that’s true, then why did Professor Babbling teach us that in the first place?”
“It’s just her morbid sense of humor,” Kyle chuckled. “Think about it—has she ntioned that rune combination since the first lesson?”
Hermione thought for a mont. Now that he ntioned it, she realized Professor Babbling hadn’t gone over pictograms again, and the material had been much more manageable since.
Hermione slapped her hand on the table in frustration, exclaiming, “Does that an I’ve been wasting my ti?”
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