Hermione was gone.
But strangely, no one realized the problem.
Charlie was a Hufflepuff student, and normally, if he didn't actively seek Hermione out, he didn't have much contact with her.
He just found it a bit strange that Hermione wasn't around when Harry and Ron came to see him these past two days.
But he just assumed Hermione was too busy with classes.
It wasn't until the Transfiguration assignment deadline was brought forward that Charlie suddenly realized Hermione hadn't given him her homework yet.
This wasn't right.
Although Hermione always seemed like she wanted to kill him, her homework was never late.
So, at breakfast, Charlie found Ron, who was devouring his food.
"Where's Hermione? Why isn't she here for breakfast today?"
Ron looked up blankly, his mouth full of sausage: "Who?"
"Hermione," Charlie frowned.
"Who's Hermione?" Ron swallowed his sausage.
"Is she another one of your Slytherin friends?"
Charlie froze.
Was this person not fully awake? Or was he possessed by Lord Voldemort last night?
"Are you crazy? Hermione Granger, the top student in our year, who's very close to you guys, you three are always inseparable."
"Charlie, what are you talking about?" Harry also turned his head, pushing up his glasses.
"It's always been just the two of us; there's never been a Hermione."
"Besides, aren't you the top student in our year?" Ron added, forking another sausage.
Charlie felt a chill.
He stared at their faces, trying to find any trace of a joke.
But there was none.
Harry and Ron's expressions were terrifyingly sincere; that confusion wasn't faked.
Charlie turned and left, his steps getting faster and faster.
He Apparated to the Gryffindor common room and rushed straight up the stairs.
The door to the girls' dormitory was unlocked; he kicked it open.
The third-year girls' dormitory was empty, with only a few beds neatly arranged.
Parvati Patil's bed was piled with Divination Class textbooks.
Lavender Brown's nightstand held a stack of cosmetics.
Charlie looked at each bed, seeing unfamiliar names carved on the headboards.
And then there was nothing else.
No bed had Hermione's name on it.
Charlie stood at the doorway, counting three times.
But nothing changed.
Charlie took a deep breath, then turned and went downstairs.
Downstairs, there were a few girls who had just returned from the washroom, their hair still wet.
The moment they saw Charlie, several screams erupted simultaneously.
"Ah—a boy!"
"How did you get up here?!"
Some frantically pulled their robes tighter, while others instinctively took a step back.
The girl leading them, however, showed no reaction, merely gathered her damp hair, her gaze lingering on Charlie for a moment, a curve forming at the corner of her lips:
"Charlie White? Did you... come to the wrong dormitory?"
Her tone carried a hint of teasing, and she even took half a step forward.
Charlie had no time to deal with her and asked:
"Excuse me, do you know Hermione Granger? A third-year student."
A hint of disappointment appeared in the girl's eyes; she exchanged a look with the others behind her and shook her head.
"Never heard of that person."
"Granger? Is she a new student?"
"There shouldn't be anyone by that name in third year."
Charlie didn't ask further.
He snapped his fingers, erasing that segment of their memory; after all, appearing in the girls' dormitory was hard to explain.
Erasing this small piece of memory wouldn't affect them.
He walked out of the Gryffindor Tower, his mind a mess.
What exactly was going on? Perhaps he should ask a Professor?
Charlie burst into Professor McGonagall's office without even knocking.
Professor McGonagall was grading assignments and was startled by the suddenly opened door, her quill leaving a long ink mark on the parchment.
"Mr. White!" She looked up, her expression somewhat displeased.
"You should knock first."
"Professor, Hermione Granger," Charlie said directly.
"A third-year Gryffindor student, an all-A student; you should remember her very well."
Professor McGonagall paused, pushing up her glasses.
"Mr. White, Hogwarts has never had a student by that name."
Charlie's heart sank.
"That's impossible, she's your student, you even gave her a time-turner—"
"A time-turner?" Professor McGonagall interrupted him, her brow furrowed.
"Mr. White, I don't know where you heard about a time-turner. But that is an extremely dangerous magic item, strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic, and it's impossible to lend it to a student casually."
"But..."
"Are you under too much stress lately?" Professor McGonagall stood up, walked over to Charlie, her eyes filled with concern.
"Do you want to go see Madam Pomfrey? Perhaps you need a few days of rest."
Charlie didn't say anything more. He knew it was useless to keep asking.
He turned and left the office, encountering Percy, who was on patrol, in the corridor.
"Percy, do you remember Hermione Granger?"
Percy stopped, thinking seriously.
"Never heard of her. What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Charlie continued walking, asking everyone he met. But without exception, they all shook their heads in denial; some even thought he was joking.
Charlie was not in the mood to joke with them and turned to leave.
He even went to the dungeons, found Snape, and told him about a student who always liked to answer questions without permission in his Potion Class.
And Snape's answer was direct.
"If there truly was such a know-it-all Miss in the world, my Potion Class would probably be much easier," he sneered.
"Unfortunately, there isn't."
He paused, then added: "Five points from Hufflepuff, for your insanity."
Charlie stood still, staring at Snape's face.
"If you don't leave now, I'll take ten points."
Charlie turned and left the dungeon, his steps getting faster and faster.
He rushed out of the Castle, stood on the empty lawn, and the cold wind made him shiver.
Everyone had forgotten Hermione, as if she had never existed.
Charlie closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
Why was this happening?
Standing on the lawn, with the cold wind blowing into his collar, he forced himself to calm down.
What was so special about Hermione?
He quickly recalled every detail of this semester.
Hermione's class schedule, her daily routine, how she always stayed up late doing homework... That's right, the time-turner.
The only thing different about Hermione this semester was that golden chain.
She used it to attend extra classes, appearing in different places at the same time.
Charlie's eyes snapped open.
If something went wrong with the time-turner... He didn't continue the thought, instead Apparating directly to the Principal's office.
Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, holding an ancient book. Seeing Charlie appear, he put down the book and took off his half-moon spectacles to wipe them.
"I'm beginning to regret giving you Apparition privileges."
Dumbledore's tone was calm, but Charlie detected a hint of helplessness.
Charlie walked to the desk, placing his hands on the surface.
He changed his approach; asking directly about Hermione was useless, as no one remembered her.
"Principal, are there any dangers with the time-turner?"
Dumbledore's movements stopped.
He put his glasses back on, his blue eyes staring at Charlie through the lenses.
Charlie looked a bit agitated.
The office was eerily quiet, even the portraits of the Principals on the wall had stopped their whispers.
"Please sit," Dumbledore gestured to the chair opposite him.
"Relax a little, Charlie."
Charlie didn't move, but looked at Dumbledore with a clear conscience.
"Don't worry, Principal, I'm not going to do anything bad with a time-turner."
"Someone has been forgotten by everyone, the entire Hogwarts, no one remembers her. But I remember, only I remember."
"You suspect the time-turner is at fault?"
"Exactly," Charlie sat down.
"She's been using a time-turner for classes this semester, traveling through different timelines every day. Could this be the cause of the accident?"
Dumbledore was silent for a long time, his chin resting on his clasped hands.
After a long while, he lowered his hands.
"You might be right, Charlie."
Charlie's breathing quickened.
"The origin of the time-turner is untraceable, but the reason the Ministry of Magic strictly limits its use to five hours a day is because exceeding that limit can cause unpredictable things to happen."
"Do you know why?"
"No."
"Because spacetime does not permit the existence of time travel," Dumbledore's voice was very soft.
"When a person goes back from twelve o'clock noon to ten o'clock in the morning, the person at twelve o'clock will disappear, and there will be two people between ten o'clock and twelve o'clock. This violates the fundamental laws of time."
Charlie frowned: "But a time-turner can clearly do that."
"It's the time-turner's energy that protects the traveler," Dumbledore continued.
"It's deceiving time, making time mistakenly believe that everything is normal. When time returns to twelve o'clock again, the person from the original timeline will travel back according to what has happened, and the traveler will remain at that point in time. After twelve o'clock, there will still only be one person on the timeline."
Charlie understood:
"So the time-turner is using energy to maintain this lie."
"Exactly," Dumbledore nodded.
"But this energy can only last for five hours a day. If that limit is exceeded..."
He paused.
"In the Ministry of Magic's records, no one has ever used a time-turner beyond the time limit. Or rather, those who used it beyond the limit disappeared and never had a chance to leave a record."
Charlie's fists clenched: "So Hermione might have disappeared because she used it beyond the time limit..."
"If such a person truly exists," Dumbledore interrupted him.
"Then her current situation would be very dangerous. After the time-turner loses energy, spacetime will immediately detect an anomaly. It will correct this error, erasing any traces that shouldn't exist in this spacetime."
"Including people's memories?"
"Including everything," Dumbledore's tone became heavy.
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