Hermione's POV

I paced my small hotel room in Muggle London, twirling my wand around in my fingers absentmindedly. Lines of worry etched into my forehead over the ideas flowing through my mind. I paused my ministrations mid-step; I put a silencing charm around the room, before I let out a howl of frustration and blew up the chair in the corner. I let out a small sob as I slumped against the wall. What was I going to do? Harry and Remus were on their way here and the final battle was to commence in approximately twenty-four minutes. I shook my head as I accepted the fact that there was nothing that could be done. Voldemort apparently figured out that Harry had destroyed his last horocrux, and then proceeded to send Harry a message requesting him to bring whomever he could to take him down. There might have been a few taunting words and jabs at the intelligence of the Order in there, too.

I closed my eyes and let my whole body slide to the ground. This is where either Voldemort wins (death and slavery, sure to follow) or Harry wins, and everything goes back to the way it should; if it could. So much loss and sorrow have followed us since the end of fifth year. Countless deaths, countless battles, ruined families, ruined lives; and the Golden Trio had miraculously been caught in the middle of it all. School had closed as Voldemort made himself known to the public, destruction following in his wake.

I use to pray for salvation. Pray for a way out of this disaster…and then we lost Ginny and Neville, then Tonks; Dean, Seamus, Flitwick, Kingsley; friends. My mother and father; family. I opened my eyes as I tried not to think about what happened the day after I turned seventeen. If I had been smart I would have moved my parents somewhere far away or put them in a safe house. Instead, I had been dumb. I convinced myself that Voldemort couldn't find them. They were Muggles, who never ventured into the wizarding world. I mistakenly thought they were safe. It was my fault my parents were dead.

I let my eyes travel to a photograph that had been blown off the night stand by the blast from my exploded chair. It was a picture of Harry, Ginny, Ron, and I from fourth year. We were at Hogwarts, somewhere on the grounds; it was a beautiful spring day. Harry had tackled Ron to the ground laughingly, while Ginny and I jumped on top of them. We rolled around a bit until Ron picked me up and threw me in the lake, Ginny close to follow. We all paused to wave at the camera, before sending Harry and Ron into the lake after us. Then it replayed.

Ronald Bilius Weasley, my best friend. Missing for two months now, kidnapped by none other than Voldemort himself. We know he isn't dead; Voldemort has made sure to send us messages of the pain he is in, the torture he goes through, and…pictures of what's being done to him. Pain rippled through my chest as I thought of Ron. So many memories; good and bad. Harry was almost more devastated than I was. I think he thought losing Ron meant we were going to lose the war. I still have faith, however miniscule it maybe, it's there. I have found myself on more occasion than one taking charge and giving commands during our battles with Death Eaters. Ron, dead or alive, would want us to keep trying…to keep fighting for what's right.

It seemed almost a decade ago that we started our training. Directly after fifth year; Harry, Ron, and I went into an intensive training regimen. We had the best of the best training us on all magic, dark and light. We trained physically and mentally to prepare us for whatever the war may bring. We knew battle tactics to dark curses to potions…to the most powerful of shield charms. Our bodies grew from regular sixteen year old kids to those of young adults; physical fitness kept our minds clear and our magic strong. Magic had become our lives. We were trained to never use verbal spells and to do basic defensive and offensive spells wandlessly. The Golden Trio had never been closer or stronger. We were a force to be reckoned with…we thought we were ready to face what the world was throwing at us and six months after that, we were murderers. I can close my eyes and see the face of the people that I've murdered…all for the 'greater good'. At least that is what I tell myself, killing Death Eaters is part of working with the Order.

Dumbledore asked us to join when we were sixteen. We declined. We had no problem working with them and coordination, but we would never join. They wanted to know too much, always. February of 1996 was a bad month for us. Albus went missing, that was a year and a half ago…the Light side had almost had a downfall. Trust issues erupted and inquiries into the personal lives of everyone were made. It was Harry who straightened everything out. It was Harry who brought us all back together and reminded us of what we were fighting for; an end. We were fighting for an end to a demented era, an era of twisted values and idolism.

For months I have been researching a way to beat our enemies once and for all. Blunt force isn't our best option. We have amazing witches and wizards on our side, but they lack the knowledge of dark and light magic for victory. Voldemort isn't stupid, he knows what he is doing and he makes sure those that follow him know what they are doing as well. I came to the conclusion, long ago, that we weren't going to win by traditional means. My research led me to something I had expected for over a year, it was an unexpected expect. If that makes sense?

I stumbled onto the idea of time travel from one of the books I nicked from the Malfoy library when we raided their house last spring. Dumbledore hinted at it before he disappeared, I guess I didn't even consider it a possibility. I knew that time couldn't change unless it was destined to…I knew this. I knew that you can't go back in time and expect to come back to the same future you once had, if you could even figure out a way to travel forward in time. I knew that if I accepted the fact that time travel could be the only answer, I would be giving up everything I have and know in this day and age.

I fingered the object around my neck in despair. Dumbledore slipped it to me the last time I saw him. The note that accompanied it merely said 'keep this around your neck at all time, you'll know what to do with it when the time comes'. I didn't understand what that meant at the time, but…I think I know now. I cradled the once time turner in my hands. Dumbledore had somehow added pieces to it and taken pieces off it, you wouldn't be able to tell it's a time turner unless you looked at the insignia on the dial. I looked down at the forsaken object in my hand only to notice that the sand around the outside of the dial had begun to spin, so quickly that it looked like it was glowing. It was glowing! Realization hit me; this must be why I've had this for so long; it was waiting for the right time. For the time when my mind decided it knew what it had to do. I had nothing to do with this at all. Dumbledore had set all of this up years ago. I heaved a shuddering breath as I sat up from where I was laying. I waved my wand around the room to fix and damage I had done. I rose on shaky feet as I walked to my bed where my knapsack was. Pre-packed as always; ready to go. I picked up the picture of my friends off the floor as I went. I didn't look at it as I shoved it into my bag.

I was afraid. I honestly had no clue what I was doing. Any inkling I had of what to do rest on the modified time turner around my neck. I had no clue where I was going, but I knew I was leaving. To…change or fix something? To stop what is happening? I wish I had some sort of say in whether or not I was willing to give up everything I have and love. But, I think he already knew the answer to that question. He knew I would give up everything for the ones I love to be happy. He knew that I would cease to exist for the lives of all those effected by this war. I swung my bag onto my shoulders and tucked my wand into my jeans.

I can't say I'm ready to go. I don't think anyone could say that. I can say…I hope this works? At least if I do this I will feel like I'm taking a step in the right direction. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for the inevitable. I glanced down at the chain hanging from my neck, the sand was moving so quickly it was smoking. I held the object away from my skin as the sand turned to flames. My heartbeat quickened as the flame extinguished itself and all movement stopped. Silence, before white light erupted all around me, impairing all my senses.