In the week that followed their heart-to-heart, a new dynamic settled over the group. Hermione, freed from the crushing weight of her self-imposed rivalry, became Ariana's fiercest and most protective guardian. While Ariana continued to recover from her profound magical expenditure, Hermione acted as a vigilant sentinel.
She would save Ariana a seat in the warmest, most comfortable part of the common room. She would fetch her books from the library so Ariana wouldn't have to walk the long corridors. And she would fix anyone who stared too long at her resting friend with a glare so intellectually ferocious that it could have curdled milk. Ron, after making one too-loud joke near a dozing Ariana, found himself on the receiving end of a ten-minute, whispered lecture on the neurological benefits of REM sleep that left him utterly bewildered and vowing never to do it again.
But as Ariana's strength slowly returned, Hermione began to notice something. During their shared study periods in the library, they were often joined by a third party. Daphne Greengrass would slip into the seat beside Ariana, her presence quiet and respectful. She rarely spoke, simply opening her own books and working in a companionable silence. There was an unspoken understanding between the Slytherin girl and the recovering Gryffindor prodigy, a bond forged in a moment of shared crisis.
Hermione, at first, tried to ignore it. She told herself it was fine. Daphne was their friend now, their ally. But a small, persistent knot of possessiveness began to form in her stomach. She had just gotten her best friend back; the thought of sharing her, especially with a Slytherin, was an unwelcome complication.
One afternoon, after Daphne had packed her things and left them with a polite nod, Hermione could no longer contain her curiosity.
"She sits with you a lot," Hermione said, her tone carefully neutral as she pretended to be engrossed in a chart of healing potions.
"Yes," Ariana replied, not looking up from her own text. "She does."
"I was just wondering… why?" Hermione pressed, unable to help herself.
Ariana finally closed her book, giving Hermione her full attention. Her gaze was clear and direct, with no hint of judgment. "While you were occupied with your crusade to attend every class in existence, Hermione, Daphne would often join me in the library. She did not demand my attention or try to engage me in frivolous conversation. She simply… sat. She provided a quiet, unobtrusive companionship. She was present. It would be illogical and unkind to alienate her now, simply because you have decided to rejoin our alliance."
The words were not an accusation, but they landed with the precise weight of truth. Hermione flushed, realizing that while she had been caught in her storm of pride, others had quietly stepped in to fill the void she had created.
Ariana let the silence sit for a moment before her expression softened. "That, however, is a secondary issue. It brings us back to the primary one." She leaned forward slightly. "The cause of the initial divergence in our friendship. I have a question for you, Hermione."
"What is it?" Hermione asked, her stomach twisting with a familiar anxiety.
"I am aware of the Time-Turner," Ariana said, her voice low. "Professor McGonagall informed me. I understand how you are attending all of your classes." She paused, her periwinkle eyes intense. "My question is not how. My question is why. More specifically, what is your decision regarding your electives now?"
Hermione was taken aback. "What do you mean? I've been managing."
"Have you?" Ariana countered gently. "You are perpetually exhausted. You are subsisting on nervous energy and sheer willpower. You are living more hours than your body was designed for. You have not been managing, Hermione. You have been enduring. The academic year is a marathon, not a sprint. You are sprinting. Eventually, you will collapse. The data strongly suggests this outcome."
"But I can't just… drop a class!" Hermione protested, the very idea feeling like a physical failure. "I'd be behind! I'd miss so much!"
Ariana held her gaze, her logic relentless and inescapable. "Re-evaluate the variables. You chose these electives because they were interesting. But you did not account for the primary variable: yourself. You did not account for the cost. The cost is your health, your peace of mind, and, as we have recently established, your friendships."
She reiterated her original point, her voice calm but unyielding. "I am asking you again, now that you have more data. Now that you have experienced the physical and emotional cost of your decision. What is your logical course of action for the remainder of this year, and for the years to come? Will you continue on a path that is demonstrably unsustainable, simply because you are too proud to admit you made a miscalculation?"
The question hung in the silent library, sharp and unavoidable. It was the same question she had asked weeks ago, but this time it was different. This time, Hermione had the experience of her own exhaustion, the memory of her emotional collapse, and the fresh pain of their temporary rift to add to the equation.
She looked at her timetable, at the impossible, overlapping scrawl of classes. She thought of the frantic, heart-pounding stress of turning the Time-Turner, of living the same hour over again, of the constant fear of being seen. She thought of the dark circles under her eyes, the irritability, the loneliness.
And then she looked at her best friend, who was not judging her, not mocking her, but simply holding up a mirror to her own choices and asking her to be as logical about herself as she was about everything else.
A slow, shaky breath escaped Hermione's lips. The pride, the stubborn, desperate need to do it all, finally began to crumble, not in a storm of tears, but in the quiet, dawning light of reason.
"No," she whispered, the admission a profound relief. "No, it's not sustainable." She looked at
Ariana, her eyes clear with a new resolve. "You're right. I need to make a choice."
The battle was finally over. Not the battle for house points or against dark lords, but the battle for her own well-being. And in conceding, Hermione realized, she had won something far more valuable. She had won back her own peace of mind.