In addition to the seven courses all second years must take, Hermione blissfully added Magical Theory, Arithmancy, and the Study of Ancient Runes to her schedule. In all, she would be taking ten courses this year. Ten!

While the time turner was absurdly handy, Professor McGonagall warned her not to abuse it. Rewinding a maximum of five hours per day, she would leave next summer roughly 21 percent older, or 1.7 months older, than her classmates.

On September 2nd, Hermione awoke to her pillow zipping out from beneath her head and swatting her face, which she charmed the night before. This way, her dorm mates wouldn't be disturbed by an alarm clock. She filled a cup with water from the jug on the window sill, then moved to the common room so as to hide the scratching of her quill.

At once Hermione set to work writing up her schedule. She pursed her lips as she made up third and fourth time tables for each day, doubling and sometimes tripling McGonagall's recommended maximum. Hermione didn't see the harm in squeezing a few more months in. Even if she added fifteen hours to each day instead of five, she would only be 5.1 months older than Harry and Ron, which couldn't possibly be obvious. Still, she respected her head of house and couldn't help a contrite blush.

After adding adequate time for study periods, naps, and personal maintenance, Hermione found that it would be most efficient to add fifteen hours to each day, giving herself loads of time for revision on the weekends.

"Hermione. Is that - Is that homework?" asked Harry in a puzzled voice. "How could you have homework?"

"Harry! There you are. What on earth were you thinking!" she shouted in a whisper.

"Dunno. I completely panicked," he admitted.

That was the trouble with Harry. Everything he said and did was a hundred percent sincere. Her plan to be somewhat hostile toward him today turned into an urge to pat his hand.

"But I have loads to tell you, " he went on. "The reason you haven't received any of my letters, the reason we couldn't reach the platform. Right, so this house elf turns up in my bedroom..."

He told her all about Dobby and his prophecy of impending doom.

"That's tricky," said Hermione. "House elves are extremely powerful. On the bright side, he seems to have your best interest at heart."

"I think I might be better off if he had my worst interest at heart."

When Ron finally joined them, he criticized Hermione for the schoolwork she had mentioned in one of her letters.

"Don't tell me you didn't crack open even one of your textbooks!" she shot back.

"It's the summer holiday! It's just not done," Ron scowled.

Eventually they returned to their dormitories to get dressed and pack their schoolbags. Hermione took her hair out of plaits, attempted to comb the unruly mop, and finally compromised with a hairband. They met in the Great Hall for breakfast where they received their schedules. Then it was off to Herbology by nine.

Throughout the day, Hermione was impatient to give the time turner a go.

"A bit hungry, are you?" Ron asked, matching Harry's bewildered expression as Hermione shoveled fork after fork of shepherd's pie into her mouth at lunch.

"Puberty," she offered, her mouth still stuffed. At last she slammed her fork down and seized her bag. "Bye!"

"Twelve twenty-five," Hermione murmured on her way to a deserted lavatory she had noted in passing. "Five turns will take me to seven-thirty, which..."

She pushed past a very creaky door marked Out of Order and pulled the time turner up from beneathed her clothes. Her heart raced. She couldn't do it.

"I'll just take a pee first," she decided and chose the only stall with the door still on its hinges.

The moment she sat on the toilet, she heard a very unpleasant voice saying. "I'll show you to mock me!"

Hermione screamed as the toilet water shot up like a geizer and soaked her just as well as if she had taken a swim in the Black Lake. What's more, a ghost zoomed up to her face and bared its teeth. "That's how all bullies ought to be treated."

"I beg your pardon, but I'm not a bully! I didn't mean to sit on your toilet," Hermione croaked.

After she had reached a settlement with Moaning Myrtle, Hermione used a hot-air charm on her clothing, which steamed as it dried off. She applied the same charm to her hair, which ended up slightly bushier than before. She wondered briefly if anyone would notice. She decided that she could tell them that she ran into Moaning Myrtle and had to apply a hot-air charm to her hair.

Politely wishing Myrtle a nice day, she reached the corridor and checked the time: twelve fifty.

This time, she slipped into a tiny broom cupboard and gave the time turner five turns.