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It had been 540 meals since she was imprisoned: 540 servings of stale bread, an apple and some leathery, indistinguishable meat. 540 helpings since she had seen real sunlight, or true darkness. They said she didn't even deserve the peace death could bring her, or the insanity a cell would soon provide. So, instead they did the worst they could think of. They'd taken away her wand and given her a house. A house in the middle of nowhere, and didn't let her leave. A house whose windows didn't show the real world, but instead green planes, and a midday sun; no change from day to night, summer to winter. The only contact with the outside world was the covered face of the man or woman who delivered her rations, and they simply looked at her with cold grey eyes as a plate was pushed from their reality into her contained world.

She didn't know where she was, what would happen to her in the future, or why they had lost the war, but what Hermione Granger did know is that, no matter what happened, for the rest of her life she would hold her head high. She would never let those who watched her from the outside know that inside she was no more than a pile of ashes. She'd seen her best friends and everyone she loved die, for god's sake. She saw them, and joined them, in the battle to keep the world in a time of light, but failed, and saw, first hand, Voldemort's thirst for power diminish all hope any survivor had. And then they had found her. And that was that.

The cottage was pleasant enough… although cottage was actually quite an exaggeration. But then again, she wouldn't know what to call four walls, a bed, toilet, shower, stove and sink. Shed? Hut? Cupboard? Well, whatever it was, it was where she would spend the rest of her days. And currently she was sat on her bed, reading the 26th book she'd been given during her stay, for the 16th time. Each time she was given a new one, the old was taken away. It was time for meal 541 (she could tell from the grumble of her stomach, the only sign she wasn't stuck with time at a perpetual standstill) and surely enough she heard a knock at the small hatch. Quickly she stood and moved over, crouching down to look through at her provider.

A plate was passed through, and she paused before grabbing it, staring into the eerily familiar pupils. She knew this person, whether a he or she, she knew it. Maybe she could figure out where she was kept if only she could figure out who the shadowed person was. Ha, what was the use, no matter whether she knew where her prison was, or not, it was stick inescapable.

She was brought back to earth as the usually mute meal-bringer grunted "Bring me the book." It was a male. Or a female with a vocal disguise. The curious interaction gave her no hints.

"But I'm meant to have it for another 4 meals…?"

"Bring it to me."

Confused Hermione slid the plate to the floor and leant back, closing her hand around the now strained spine of the book, bringing it to the hatch as the masked …male(?) passed through another. She put her hand around the new book, as the old one was removed from her grasp. They wouldn't let go.

She looked up to see the figures gaze piercing her own, she sensed they were having an internal battle. Finally they let go and whispered gruffly "Do it right this time."

Hermione furrowed her brow as the hatch clicked shut. 'Very strange' she thought to herself 'what could they mean?' Maybe she has miscounted the meals and it was in fact time for the book to be returned. No, Hermione was often referred to as the 'brightest witch of her age' and although there was not much opportunity for her to stretch this talent while trapped, she was certain she could still count.

Suddenly her stomach rumbled, as if to say stop worrying, just feed me already! So she tossed the book to the bed and turned to grab the plate of food. She paused. What was that clatter she heard? Not a sound a falling book would make. She turned around and gasped. There, a meter from her lay her most prized possession, her wand.

Quickly Hermione grabbed the book and opened it. What she found surprised her, but explained where the wand had come from. Inside the cover of the leather bound book was not pages, but a hollow space that would fit a wand at an angle, and still contained a small locket and piece of parchment. She pulled out the paper and opened the seal

' 10 minutes after I leave this is your possession this locket will act as an Aevum Clavis. For it's magic to take effect properly it will have to be worn, and not opened until arrival at your destination. Hermione, the world is crumbling outside your walls and I put it to you to fix what you can. Thank-you from those who need your help.'

Careful not to disrupt the delicate lockets clasp she lowered the chain over her head and sighed. Hermione had never heard of an Aevum Clavis. She didn't know what it would do, but from the written passage she knew it would provide an escape. And an escape is what she needed.

She sat against the wall, letting her head fall back, thinking of all the places the magic could take her. Slowly a smile formed on her lips. She felt a tug in her navel and her heart rate quickened. Wherever she was going she was going to make a difference.

She was going to have her revenge.

Thanks for finishing the first chapter!

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