Hermione glanced down at her time turner, confused and a little bit angry. Ron and Harry were just as mad.
"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron shouted. "Whatever happened to what you used to say about wizards who meddle with time?"
"Shush, Ron," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. Harry had already wandered to a nearby tree, and was closely examining it. Ron was still shouting, despite Hermione's attempts to quiet him.
"Five hundred turns?" He exclaimed. "What were you thinking? We're in the middle of a bloody forest!"
This time it was Harry who whirled around to quiet him. Ron only crossed his arms indignantly. No one should ever tell him what to do, especially when it wasn't even his fault they were here. But what could he do about it? Not much, really. He brushed the thought aside, shaking his head in doing so.
"Come on," he murmured. "We should see if there's anyone close by."
The three had been trudging through the woods for quite some time; all of them irritable and grumpy from the long walk.
"We're lost!" Ron whined. He was hungry, and no one should ever be in the way of him when he was hungry.
"Well, you're not wrong," Harry remarked coldly. He was hungry as well, and maybe twice as tired, as he was carrying the very heavy supply bag. Even with an extension charm, it still weighed down on his shoulders. Sometimes he would even feel underneath it; thinking maybe Ron or Hermione would think it funny to pull at it. Well it wasn't funny, not at all, because no one was ever pulling at it. As Harry felt the bag again, Hermione let out an exasperated sigh.
"What?" snorted Ron.
"I'm not irritated with you, Ron!" she snapped."It's Harry. He won't stop feeling the bottom of the bag."
"That''s because it feels like you're pulling at it!" Harry shouted angrily. "Would you rather do the heavy lifting?"
Just as Hermione was about to make a very clever reply, she heard the sound of hooves in the distance.
"I think someone's coming!" she shouted. "Maybe they can help!"
"Or maybe they can decorate their village wall with our heads," Ron remarked smartly.
"Will you too stop it?" Harry demanded. "Just listen!"
The sounds got closer, and before they knew it, about twenty horses, each saddled with a rider were right next them. They stopped, examining the three strangers. One of the men, young, with blonde hair, spoke.
"Who are you and how did you get here?" he asked, his voice kind but demanding and firm.
"We-um-" Hermione started. "We're a bit lost."
"Really?" the man asked, concerned. Then he turned to a dark-haired man about the same age as him. "Merlin, do you have any idea who these people are?"
Merlin? Thought Hermione.