She can remember Dumbledore's voice, somber and resigned, ringing in her ears long after she takes the time-turner from him and runs. She remembers hearing his voice the moment she see's him- tall, dark and more intensely intriguing than she could
have ever imagined- patrolling the corridors of Hogwarts. His hair is swept gently to the side in a way that you can tell is effortless. His skin is pale, the flushed colour of his lips standing out in stark contrast. His eyes are two black pits in
his face, dull and emotionless. From so far away she can't tell if they're brown, blue, green or grey- just that they're dark. It's fitting. She readjusts Harry's invisibility cloak around her small frame and glides gracefully, soundlessly
down the deserted corridor.

She's thinking about what Dumbledore had told her before she left the Present- or future, she can't be certain anymore- when she walks up to the office connected to his transfiguration classroom.

She repeats exactly what he said to her, to his past self. It feels as weird as it sounds. The younger Dumbledore is much more accepting than she had assumed he would be, but that could be be cause this version of Dumbledore is already suspicious of him.
Hermione leaves the notes, the evidence, the memories behind in his office and strolls out into the corridor looking more calm than she feels. She knows the trial will take years, but it's a start. She breathes a sigh of relief, still filled with
apprehension at the thought of what the future holds for them now.

Once the enormous castle doors slam shut behind her, Hermione finds her hands are shaking, and she is terrified. It doesn't make her any less determined.

She doesn't know that Riddle stays behind, pale hand tense around the bannister he's leaned against, looking with flared nostrils at the empty space she's left behind.