'…Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.' Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
It was in sixth year when Hermione had enlisted for the use of a time turner again. Looking back, study was still a priority in her mind having just completed her OWLs in her former year, and with upcoming NEWTs the next year, she had wanted time to help Harry but get as much study in as possible. The death of Dumbledore, however, had altered those aspirations in an instant.
The Ministry had fallen not long after; only days, if that. The controversy and chaos meant that she still had the thin gold chain attached to a spinning hourglass around her neck, tucked deep under her robes. And that's the safest place, she thought. Most of the other time turners had smashed in the battle at the Ministry last year leaving very few, if not all forever trapped in limbo as they smashed and repaired themselves over and over again deep within the Department of Mysteries. The only way she had successfully acquired this one after application was because she had experience with a time turner in her third year.
But now, with the Ministry in Voldemort's hand, nobody realised she had it. Not even Harry or Ron. She chose to keep it that way, not only because of the secrecy outlined in the contract of procuring one, but because it was the last thing Harry and Ron needed; to worry about her. To worry that she may be over-doing it. But compared to Harry's troubles, it was just selfish thinking. A bit of extra study was nothing she hadn't handled before. And by now she had perfected the art of time travel through classes without anyone noticing. A mental victory she could never voice for Harry and Ron's sake, but none the less a victory for herself.
She absent mindedly ran two fingers of her right hand over the tiny bump under her jumper where the time turner rested against her heart. She often did this lately when deep in thought, or just as a reminder that it was still secretly and silently there. Doing this calmed her a little, knowing that she had such a responsibility weighing at her neck but still control in the knowledge that it was safe and unknown. And calming was exactly what she needed right now.
She was sitting, to the right of Umbridge in the courtrooms of the Ministry supposedly record-keeping while the toad-like woman beside her was interrogating a poor and frail woman. Hermione could not focus on what was being said though. Her eyes were locked on the strong chain around Umbridge's stout neck as she leaned over the barrier. It was a horcrux. The locket of Salazar Slytherin hung like a delicate and ornate charm almost, but Hermione knew of the dark horror that was sealed inside. A horror that had to be destroyed. Harry sat behind her under his invisibility cloak.
'…Mafalda, pass them to me.' Umbridge suddenly jarred her out of her stupor. Fumbling while passing her the documents she requested, the only thing Hermione could think to say was to compliment the locket which she been so focused on. Luckily Umbridge saw the weak compliment as an opportunity to boast and Hermione touched her time turner again automatically.
Suddenly there was a flash of red light and all she could remember was running, from dementors, security, death eaters and Yaxley. Amongst the yells and screams Hermione, Harry and Ron navigated themselves back to the fireplaces safely and were transported back to the bathroom they entered the Ministry in. Yaxley, however, was not far behind.
'LET'S GO!' Hermione heard Harry yell. He grabbed her hand and turned on the spot. Someone else grabbed her left arm violently as they Disapparated and she turned to see the evil gleam of Yaxley's face staring back almost in pleasure while the compressing sensation came over her.
Panic was all she felt as Yaxley's face burned into her thoughts. She was caught. They were caught. The claustrophobic feeling of Disapparating emphasised the feeling tenfold. Her eyes and ears were pounding with all the pressure. In her panic she thought of Harry and how important it was to keep him alive. She thought of Ron also, and his support that was immeasurable in being Harry's rock, his shoulder to lean on that kept Harry going, and her heart broke as she made her decision to let go. Like with the time turner, it wasn't her that they needed to worry about anyway.
Her feet touched solid ground but she turned again instantaneously, Yaxley still digging his pointed fingers sharply into her arm. This time, when her feet landed of solid ground, she lost her balance and fell hard. The back of her head hit dirt and her vision turned into black spots. She heard the loud groan of Yaxley as he experienced the same hard landing. Though she wanted to lie there and will away the throbbing of her head the logical part of her mind screamed for her to get up.
It was a race in who could regain their balance first and win the upper hand, Hermione thought desperately. She attempted but her vision only clouded further to the point where Yaxley and the trees around her disappeared for several seconds and she fell to her knees.
Closing her eyes tight and shaking her head, she attempted again; this time successfully. Though when she opened her eyes it was already too late. Yaxley had his wand pointed at her, the same gleam in his eyes. He strode up to her proudly using all of his tallness to intimidate Hermione further. It was now she was able to take in her surroundings. They were in the forrest that the Quidditch World Cup had been held, back in her fourth year. She didn't know why it had popped up into her head but all she could think of at the time of Disapparating was 'away', somewhere far and secluded and away from everyone she knew.
'Expelliarmus,' Yaxley said quietly, almost in a whisper. Her wand flew from her pocket and into Yaxley's hand. As hopeless as she was wandless, she did not want to give in.
Hermione attempted to kick Yaxley, kick anywhere she could. It was no match however and it only served to infuriate him.
'Crucio!' he cried and the worst pain tore throughout Hermione's body. The forrest had disappeared again though unlike the dizziness of her landing that seemed so trivial now. She could not even hear her screams as white hot knives consumed every inch of her body. She didn't know how much time passed before it stopped but the hoarseness that was now in her throat was a blessing.
'Harry Potter's best friend,' smirked Yaxley as ropes weaved tightly around her cold yet sweating body from the end of his wand. 'He will have use for you.'
Bending down, he grabbed her hair and pulled so her face drew up to his. His face the same pleasurable gleam as she suddenly felt the familiar compression of being squeezed tightly through a rubber tube and was Apparated away.