THE TIME-TURNER
by chipped purple nail polish
This update: April 27th, 2007

a/n: Thank you for all of the fabulous reviews!

Chapter Three

"Hermione Granger? How come I don't know you? You're wearing a Gryffindor set of robes- and you have a Head Girl badge! But how can that be?" Gretchen demanded. She pointed to a shiny badge on her collar. "I'm Head Girl!"

"Listen," Hermione told her, panicking. "Listen, we need to go someplace quiet- someplace where no one can hear us- if someone overheard... This is just really hard to explain! No one...No one was supposed to know I'm here..." she added, in a flushed whisper.

"All right, all right. Put your cloak back on. And if you try to run I'll know," Gretchen told her. Hermione hastily slung the cloak across her shoulders. "Now, follow me- I know the perfect place..."

Hermione followed Gretchen out of the common room, glancing at the Fat Lady on her way out. It was the same woman, only her dress was a shade of blue as opposed to pink. Gretchen hurried up the corridors, and finally, Hermione realized where they were going. The Room of Requirement.

Seeing that the corridor was deserted, Hermione threw off her cloak. "All right- think, think... I need a place where we won't be overheard..."

Gretchen looked at her funny. "You know about this place too?"
Hermione nodded, concentrating. Finally, the door appeared. Gretchen seized the handle, and they walked inside. It was small, just a tiny little room with a table and chairs. Hermione sat down in one chair, and Gretchen followed suit.

"So, Hermione Granger, Head Girl of Gryffindor, which means you're a seventh year. But that doesn't seem right. Who are you, and where did you come from?" Gretchen inquired, slightly calmer than before.

"You have to trust me..." Hermione told her. "And I have to trust you..." She swallowed dryly. "I'm from the year 1998."

"This- this is 1944!" Gretchen cried, aghast. "That's- that's 54 years from now!"

"I know." Hermione told her. "I go to Hogwarts in the future."

"Prove it to me," Gretchen demanded. Hermione gritted her teeth, thinking. Finally, she had an idea. Searching through her bag, she pulled out a sack of coins. On top was a gleaming Galleon. Pulling it out, she showed it to Gretchen.

"Made in year 1993... But it still could be bewitched..." Gretchen muttered accusingly under her breath.

"Well, then, try me," Hermione shrugged. Gretchen rolled her eyes. Pulling out her wand, she held it over the coin.

"Revelio!" she cried, snapping the wand harshly. It was still the same old galleon. Gretchen had to give in. She was convinced.

"But, that doesn't explain why you're here." Gretchen said. "Or how you're here, for that matter."

"Listen, this is hard to explain..." Hermione told her. "Do you know who Tom Marvolo Riddle is? Or perhaps, Lord Voldemort?"

Gretchen eyed her funnily. "That creepy guy in Slytherin? All the girls in my dorm- excuse me, this school- practically worship him. So does old Sluggy. But why do you care? You're from, what, a million years from now? What does Riddle have to do with you?"

"A lot of things..." Hermione told her. "You have to promise me, Gretchen, that you won't tell a soul... If Riddle found out who I am and why I'm here, he'd kill me."

"Why are you here then?" Gretchen asked, crossing her arms.

"Look, let me start from the beginning..." Hermione told her. "It'll make more sense this way, okay?"

"Whatever," Gretchen shrugged. "Shoot."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Okay... About nineteen years ago there was a pureblood named Merope Gaunt, a witch living with her father and brother over in a small village. The Gaunts were very poor, and their only wealth was a few artifacts inherited through family- they were direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, you see, anyway, Merope was in lo-"

"-What does this have to do with anything?" Gretchen interrupted.

"It'll make sense! You just have to listen, okay?" Hermione reprimanded her.

"All right, all right. Go on then."

"Ok, where was I? Oh, yeah. Anyway, Merope was in love with a muggle who lived in the village, but her family despised muggles; they tortured them and believed them to be less than human. But one day Merope ran away, giving the boy she was in love with- a Tom Riddle-"

"Oh, I see," Gretchen supplied.

"- a love potion. They got married, and Merope later got pregnant. However, she was deeply in love with her husband, and decided to ease off on the potion, deciding that, by now, her feelings must be returned. They weren't. Tom left her when he discovered who it was he had married. He despised magic. He despised Merope."

"Okay, we're getting warmer. Let me guess- Riddle in my year is their son?"

"Precisely," Hermione answered, smiling. "Anyway, Merope, without a will to live, traveled to London, where she realized she had no money. The only thing she had was that heirloom- Slytherin's locket. She decided to sell it, and got ten galleons for it (far less than it was worth, scumbag Borgin and Burkes...). Anyway, she went into labor soon after, and went to an orphanage, where Tom Marvolo Riddle was born. She died soon after."

"So, this Merope chick was Riddle's mom?" Gretchen asked, surprised. "I mean, I knew he had grown up in an orphanage and everything (everyone knows...), but still..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. " Hermione agreed. She quickly went on about Riddle's early life, and then his beginnings at Hogwarts. And then she went on to talk about the Death Eaters, which caught Gretchen in surprise.

"Death Eaters? What? There's a load of people, mostly Slytherins, who go by that name all the time. Death Eaters! They torture muggles?"

"And kill wizards. Wizards who will not join their side. And muggle-borns. Or, what they called Mudbloods." Hermione added bitterly.

"You're kidding," Gretchen whispered. "They kill...muggle-borns?"
"Yeah," Hermione told her. "I'm a muggle-born. A lot of Slytherins in my time say that I'm going to be one of the first to go."

"Me too," Gretchen added. "I mean, I've never been threatened per say, but I'm a muggle-born too."

That caught Hermione by surprise, but she was glad to hear it. They now had a few more things in common.

"Anyway, Voldemort started killing and controlling a lot of people- I mean, a lot of people. Every day, more and more were dying... But there was a prophecy. Voldemort heard it, or at least half. It basically said that a boy was going to be born at the end of the seventh month to a couple that had defied Voldemort three times. That boy would be able to kill Lord Voldemort."

Gretchen's fingers were gripping the table so hard her knuckles were white.

"So, when the boy- Harry Potter- was one years old, Lord Voldemort sought him out. First, he killed his father. And then he killed his mother, who was willing to die for Harry, and in doing so, sealed an ancient magic that Voldemort hadn't been expecting. When Voldemort tried to kill Harry, the curse rebounded on him. He was torn from his body, and presumed dead. Harry survived, and was a hero."

Hermione sighed, staring at her nails. "Harry's my best friend."

"Really?" Gretchen asked. "He is?"

"Yeah. He's in London right now...I really worry about him. He's had some really lucky breaks."

"But... That still doesn't explain why you're here," Gretchen pointed out.

"Okay, well, three years ago, Voldemort came back. And he's been wreaking havoc ever since. It's the war all over again. People are dying. And only Harry, my friend Ron, and I can stop it... But I found an easier way to do it. A much easier way."

"And what's that?" Gretchen asked. "Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah." Hermione told her. "I found a Time-Turner. Have you heard of one?"

"I've read about it," Gretchen said. "But I've never seen one."

Hermione pulled the brass hourglass out of her bag and showed it to Gretchen. "This is it. It brings you back in time. I used it to come here. I plan to kill Lord Voldemort...before he can kill anymore people."

Gretchen nodded. "You're telling the truth," she said, eyes glimmering. "No one's that good of a storyteller."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you believe me."

"So, what do we do first?"

"What do you mean, 'we'?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"I go here," Gretchen asked. "I see Riddle on a daily basis. I can help you." She stuck out her hand. Hermione looked at her, cocking her head to the side.

"You can promise me," Gretchen told her. Hermione felt relieved.

"All right," she said, reaching out and shaking Gretchen's hand. "It's a deal."

"Deal," Gretchen agreed. They released hands. The air seemed somewhat thicker than a moment before, but Hermione was finally able to breathe properly. "So," Gretchen leaned back in her chair. "How exactly are you planning to kill Voldemort?"

"I've had several ideas, nothing spectacular..." Hermione answered. "I don't want to curse him... We need to be sleeker than that." She bit her lip and stared into her bag, which she had returned to its normal size when she had sat down. The top of her cauldron poked out. "I can only think of one way... But it's not exactly foolproof."

"And pray, what's that?" Gretchen asked.

Hermione closed her eyes, then looked up at her. Her lip trembled slightly. She had never killed anyone before. "I was thinking...we should poison him."

chipped