Hermione paced her bedroom. What was she going to do...Harry and Remus were on their way here. The final battle was to commence in approximately...oh god...24 minutes. There was nothing she could do...Harry supposedly destroyed the last horocrux and Voldemort sent him a letter requesting his presence at his lovely Riddle abode...and to bring whomever he could to try and take him down. Then the letter went on to say how far vast his knowledge is compared to his, and so on and so forth.
This is where either Voldemort won and we all die and become slaves or Harry wins, and everything goes back to the way it should be. School would be starting in 2 days if it were in session. After Dumbledores death, Headmistress McGonagal decided to close the school until further notice. Nothing has been the same since he died. They had to win this. It's in the prophecy...if only Voldemort never came about! We could have Ron back! Ron Weasley wouldn't of been kidnapped.. My best friend. This isn't fair! Harry could have his parents. Dumbledore would be alive. Half of their friends wouldn't be dead! And her parents, her mother and father...they would be here with her, holding her, and telling her everything will be okay.
Ginny, her one true girlfriend, wouldn't be dead. And neither would Neville. There had to be another way! There had to be! What though...what could possibley be done? She looked around her room as if looking for an answer. Her eyes fell on a photograph taken in the beginning of fourth year. Tears automatically went to her eyes.
Harry had tackled Ron, and Hermione and Ginny jumped on them. They rolled around for a bit until Ron picked her up and threw her into the lake. Ginny then took out her wand and made Ron fly in next to her. Then it replayed. Ron.
This past summer had been the worst summer of all times. Countless battles, countless memories of friends falling before your eyes. Finding traitors in the Order. As of this summer...she was a murderer. And so was Harry, Ron and Ginny before she died. She can still see the lights leaving Draco's eyes. She felt nothing about doing it. He deserved it. What she wouldn't do to have Ron back, Draco's father, Lucius was the one responsible for apparating Ron away. Dolhov deserved it. Snape, the greasy, rude, disgusting pompus arse deserved it more than anyone. It made her feel sick to think that she almost enjoyed killing him, almost.
And they call me the brightest witch of my age and I cannot even do anything to help! Sure, I've taken down a couple Death Eaters, and sure I persuaded the Ministry to drop the Underage Wizard Policy to 13. But how is that helping now? How is that going to save anyone? Harry has to kill Tom, but if Tom kills Harry, then what? All muggle-borns are destroyed? All people of the light are killed? Purebloods only in Hogwarts, trained to kill...and preform the dark arts? Well...she knew a little too much of the dark arts herself, but she just couldn't stop herself from reading! It was all in the name of knowledge of course.
Think! Hermione, think! What could possibley change this...if only time could...TIME! Yes. She had her time turner. But would that work? Going back in time to change what is going to happen? What would she even do? Run up to Good ol' Tom Riddle and tell him not to kill people! Right. She decided to try it anyways. Hermione ran to her trunk and ripped it open digging all the way to the bottom where she kept her time-turner. She pulled it out, wait, if I plan to go as far back as I am, then will time still go on? Or will it wait for me? If it goes on, they will want to know where I am. And if it doesn't...well, there will be no point in me doing this. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill she scribbled a quick note to Harry and Remus.
Boys,
I am going to change this.
Be careful. Watch out for each other. Find Ron.
All my love,
Mione
She set her alarm clock on the note to keep it in place and for the slight irony. Grabbing a bag, she put everything in her trunk (including her cloths) and shrunk it, putting a sweatshirt and a bottle of water in there too.
Oh, I hope I'm making the right decision.
Although she had been busy fighting in the war, Hermione still had time to read countless books. The one she read on Time-turners states that, 'Time cannot be willingly changed, it has to be destined to change. By turning the time-turner exactly 27 times and chanting the year you want to go to, you can be transported back into time. It is not up to the time-turner to get you back. If you choose to do this, it has dire consequences.'
Anything is worth the shot. I'd rather die, than end up with Voldemort as the leader of the world.
One more glance at the previoius picture, she felt tears burning at her eyes. Please let everything turn out right. With that she put the turner around her neck and twisted it until she got to the exact number of 27, whilst silently saying '1944'. And with a blink of an eye Hermione Jane Granger was gone.
Hogwarts, 1944 (Harry opened the Chamber when he was 12 in 1992, and Tom opened it 50 years previous, while he was in 5th year (or so I'm saying) so that would make '44 Tom's 7th year.)
I was spinning. Around, and around. I felt myself not able to breathe. I felt my mind going blank, then suddenley it all ended with a sickening crunch.
She must of been somewhere inbetween hell and the pit of hell. Or at least thats how it felt. Everything ached. And she couldn't move her arm. Opening her eyes, she found that it was dark out. While sitting up she could see the castle in front of her, then looking behind her she could see the Black Lake. Did it work? Was she in 1944?
She saw something moving out of the corner of her eye, there was a streak of red light shooting towards her, war instincts kicked in and she lifted her hand to send of a simple "Protego!" Wandless magic had been something she, Harry, and Ron had trained for, for months. Complex spells still needed a wand, but pretty much anything else could be done wandless.
"Whose there!?!" Hermione yelled.
Another streak. "Protego! Who's there?" she yelled once again, this time louder.
"Who are you?" Came a deep, demanding, silky voice.
I decided not to answer.
"As Head Boy of this castle I demand to know who you are!" he said, still hidden in the shadows. Hermione didn't like this voice. It had such force, such a commanding tone. It sent a chill down her spine.
The first thought that came to her mind was Dumbledore. She needed to see him.
"I need to speak with Dumbledore! Immediantly. Can you please take me there?" She didn't need an enemy quite yet, so she decided to let them win and ask for their help.
"What's your name? And wouldn't you rather see the Headmaster instead of Professor Dumbledore?" The boy, or possibley man said in a suspicious tone.
"Er, no, Dumbledore. My n-name is Mione...please. I don't think I can walk." Which is mostly true. She had the feeling of passing out again.
She watched as the man stepped out of the shadows with a scrutinizing gaze. Her mouth must of turned into a perfect "O", because he abruptly asked, "What?" And that was the last thing said before her mind gave way, and she was out.