Hermione had no desire whatsoever to visit some "exciting place."
But while other people had one school year, she had seven. On every Timeline, the professor taught her different things.
After so many years, her understanding of the professor had grown by the day. That man had never understood what refusal meant; he would only keep using every possible method to achieve his goal.
He had even arranged some kind of "International Confederation of Wizards Friendship Ambassador" title for her. Who knew what it was for?
Miss Granger sighed. She looked toward the headmaster's office on the other side of the eighth floor, then turned to look at Flitwick's office. Neither of them seemed to be there, so there was no hope of them suddenly appearing to save her.
"All right. Where are we going?"
She resigned herself to it. Resistance was useless. Going out in the middle of the night had long since become routine for her, and she barely needed sleep anymore.
"We'll talk on the way."
The professor smiled as he removed his tie, then led Hermione toward the Owl Tower. Whenever they left the school before, they had taken off from there.
This was definitely one of Hogwarts's quieter corners. Few people came here except young couples sneaking off to date. After all, the droppings of hundreds of owls could not be cleaned up at all times, and the smell here was eye-watering.
But love made people blind.
Cloak moved quickly. In the Nightfall, it had taken on the color of the night sky as well, steadily carrying the two of them back to London under the cover of a dark and windy night.
London at night was as it had always been: stone roads made slightly slick by the damp air, and rather old-fashioned streetlights