A/N: So, I've been gone a long time. Err, a REALLY long time. And I decided that I have a problem sticking to my writing (As those of you who have read anything I have written know.) So, Tick Tock came into existence. There is only going to be five, maybe six chapters (not including this short but sweet prolog). They will be fairly long chapters, so I will be updating once a week (on the weekends) in the meantime, I will be writing one shots to keep myself motivated (The first of which you can expect tomorrow at some point). Once I'm done with Tick Tock, I will go back and work on stories I have started in the past. So, without further ado, I present…

Tick Tock

Tick. Tock.

Hermione shifted in her seat, letting out a near silent sigh.

Tick. Tock.

Blowing at her fluffy bangs, she switched to stirring her cauldron clockwise.

Tick. Tock.

She glanced at the clock, growling quietly as she realized she still had several minutes of stirring left. Charming her wand to continue its steady rhythm, Hermione stretched languidly before settling back down with a sigh. Turning to her notes, she flipped through almost half-heartedly.

Tick. Tock.

"Hurry up." Hermione muttered to herself as she willed the time to pass faster.

"You know, they say talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity." An amused voice floated up from behind Hermione. Glancing over her shoulder, she took in the red hair and lanky frame of one of her best friends.

"Is that your only clue Ronald?" Hermione quipped back, her smile growing.

"Nah. Not even sure it was my first." Hermione waited for the flutter in her stomach at the mischievous smile, but it never came. She and Ron had decided weeks ago that there was just no chemistry between the two of them, but she still kept waiting for… something.

Tick. Tock.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione questioned as she reached forward, enveloping Ron in a hug.

"Harry sent me. Wanted me to make sure you were still alive. No one had heard from you for hours, and mum started getting worried. So Harry decided for me that the best course of action was for me to come fetch you."

"He couldn't have done it?" Hermione was bemused. Ron shook his head, looping his arm through hers and starting to drag her out the door.

"You know Harry. He was busy with mum in the kitchen. Told me that since I wasn't doing bloody anything, I could do it myself." Ron pitched his voice up several octaves in imitation of Harrys voice which, at 17, wasn't nearly as low as he would have liked.

Tick. Tock.

Hermione loved moments like these, when she could pretend there wasn't a war going on. She loved it when she could just pretend everything was okay, like she wasn't once of the wizarding world's Undesirables. She loved the moments when she could pretend she didn't have to sneak back to her parents old house to use for her potions research. It only ever lasted a moment however. And after that moment, reality always seemed to come crashing back in with devastating force. Because there was a war going on, and she was an Undesirable. Because for all the help they were getting from the Order, and the ministry, and the Weasleys, and Sirius, and Remus, it was them. It was Harry, Ron and Hermione, out to save the world. Harry had thought, at one point, that he would be the one to take down Voldemort. But in the past couple months, they had all come to realize it was a group effort. Yes, Harry would be the one to cast the spell, but without Ron and Hermione, he would get nowhere.

Tick. Tock.

Harry was their spell caster. He spent hours everyday training, preparing himself for missions. Every spell Hermione threw his way he drowned himself in until he could cast it with ease. Ron was their strategist. He orchestrated all of the order missions, much too many of the older member chagrin. And then there was Hermione. Hermione who didn't have the skills of a fighter, or the eye of a strategist. Hermione who holed herself away with books for hours on end, scouring for ways to 'just bloody end it already'. Hermione who spent sleepless nights following one idea and then another. Hermione who had forced her way through heart break and back into her parents' home to use as a potions lab.

Tick. Tock.

The boys didn't understand. They didn't understand her need to do something. To contribute. They insisted she contributed enough, begged her to spend more time with them, the 'before it's too late' hanging unsaid. They didn't understand that she was so desperately afraid for them, for her boys, that she couldn't stop, lest the panic set it. They didn't understand that she wasn't smart, just well read. They didn't understand that she had to do something, anything, to make sure they came back alright. And if Hermione had anything to do with it, they would keep that last shred of blind innocence.

Tick. Tock.

Startled by the ticking of the clock, Hermione seemed to realize where she was. Wrenching herself from Ron's grasp, she chuckled, shaking a finger at him.

"Oh no you don't." She reprimanded "I have to finish this potion. It's too temperamental to be left alone. Let me just bottle it and then I'll go with you." Ron pouted at being caught but allowed Hermione to flit back into the other room. She mentally sagged in relief before frowning slightly at the slightly off color. Quickly turning off the flame, she began siphoning the potion into several test tubes with her wand.

Tick. Tock.

Every tick of the clock grated on Hermione's ears as she hurried to get home to her family. She silently begged it to stop it's damnable ticking but it paid her no heed. She was just about done when it happened.

Tick. Tock.

Ron, clumsy fool that he was, knocked something over.

Tick. Tock.

Hermione whirled around, dropping the vial.

Tick. Tock.

She watched as the vial shattered, drenching everything below her knees.

Tick. Tock.

It was no surprise that her feet disappeared first.

Tick. Tock.

She wished it would hurry up. The process of… of disappearing was agonizing.

Tick. Tock.

She screamed as she watched the horrified look on Ron's face.

Tick. Tock.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed. His looked turned to one of confusion as he scrambled towards her. Why was she sorry?

Tick. Tock.

Just as she started to slip into oblivion, a stray thought crossed her mind. 'I failed you.'


A/N: Soooo? What did you think? Over done, I know, but I'm hoping to give it a slight twist. For those of you who haven't figured it out (or didn't read the summary), this is a time travel fic. As in, Hermione travels back in time. Hence the potion. If I ruined it for anybody, I am terribly sorry but I don't want anyone to be disappointed when they realize it just one in a million. And if my "twist" has already been used, well then so be it! Haha, and so my foray BACK into the world of writing begins… So drop me a line, tell me what you think. Remember, there IS a difference is constructive critism and flames!