Disclaimer: I own nothing HP. I wish I owned a Christian Coulson. Somebody get me a Christian Coulson.
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The soft glow of the moon illuminated the Gryffindor common room, allowing 17-year-old Hermione Granger to finally finish the book she had been reading for the past 3 days. It was New Year's Eve, and Hermione was alone… by choice, of course. Celebrations just weren't her thing. That, and McGonagall had given her a task to complete. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was 11:59pm. Panicked, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small metal object… the last of its kind. McGonagall had handed it to her just a few hours prior, with the instructions:
"At precisely 10 seconds to midnight, start spinning. If you complete your task, many innocent lives will be saved."
"But what task, Professor?" Hermione had asked.
"You will understand in time."
She watched the clock apprehensively. "Here goes nothing…" she sighed and began spinning.