Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot. English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes. Thanks! :)

Hermione sighed. For hours now she had been hitting the books about a complex arithmanthic problem that stubbornly refused to be solved. If she didn't find a solution soon, she'd have to visit the Department of Mysteries tomorrow. Nowhere else were people trying harder to decipher time and it's secrets. The reason for this was quite simple: In an attempt to protect the world from Voldemort the ministry had destroyed each and every Timeturner they could find. In the end, there's no smoke without fire. That was the approach, right up until they registered peaks of historical dimensions on the Time map kept only for sentimental reasons. Some unknown person had travelled back in time and was now getting history in quite a mess. At least, that was what everyone assumed. Hermione was charged to confirm or refute this assumption via arithmancy. Hermione hated not understanding something or not being able to solve a problem. She was dubbed the Brightest witch of her Age, that had to count for something. Nevertheless she was supposed to be off duty since hours ago and at another appointment no less. Her appointment! She fumbled for her watch. If she didn't shower, change clothes or do anything else before getting on her way, she'd make to her appointment only a few minutes late. Even Molly Weasley would be understanding, wouldn't she? Hermione was wrong. There was no understanding in Molly Weasley for someone who had dared to end the relationship with her dear little Ronniekins.

"Now look, Hermione, you cannot be serious.", scolded Molly, unsuspecting of George imitating her behind her back.

"We are only meeting up for dinner once a week and not even then you manage to turn up on time. If you and Ron were still together, the poor little dear would have starved to death ages ago!"

Hermione raised her chin.

"Ronald is old enough to fix himself a meal. Besides, I am working, so sometimes I just can't come home earlier.", she explained calmly, only a vein in her neck indicating that her calmness was a facade.

"Pfft! Look at her, sitting at my table and even being proud of being an absolute failure of a woman. You can't even cook! You go to work only with men. Arithmancy! How can someone work overtime calculating, unless they are getting everything wrong?"

Hermione had enough. She leapt up, her momentum nearly toppling over her chair.

Ron, knowing her well enough to realize what she was about to do, looked at her beseechingly.

"Please don't do it!", he whispered.

Hermione ignored him.

"I will admit that I haven't been on time. I will also admit that my cooking skills are nowhere near your level. But I will not be reproached for earning my own money. And surely I will not be accused of being unable to do my job by a woman who spend years and years doing nothing else than bearing children and keeping house! I am trying to calculate something most humans can't even imagine. And that does take its time. And sometimes one has to follow a train of thought, even if ones working hours are supposed to be over. But I do not need to be punished for that. And Ron and me splitting up didn't have the least to do with my job, but maybe Ron should explain to you which situation I found Lavender and him in. Until then you needn't bother to invite me for dinner, as I will not come here anyway. Goodbye!"

And just like that Hermione left through the back door, reached the apparition point and apparated home.

"Mollywobbles", Arthur said, more stern than anybody was used to, "that was absolutely horrible of you to say."

Molly fluffed up and opened her mouth, only to inflate right away.

"You're right.", she said dejectedly. "I'm going to apologize tomorrow."

Hermione stomped to her door, grumbling all the way. She had suspected that dinner at the Weasleys house would be no walk in the park, but she had assumed that Ron would be the source of antipathy. In her imagination Molly had been her ally, not her prosecutor. Hermione tried her best not to cry, but she was so bitterly disappointed in Molly that she couldn't keep her tears back any longer. This night Hermione cried herself to sleep, only slightly comforted by Crookshanks warmth.

The next morning Hermione felt simply awful. All the crying the day before had led to a painful headache and splotchy red face. She was tempted to simply call in sick, but she didn't have it in her. So she dragged herself to work. Once she reached her desk, she was reminded why she had been late yesterday. Grabbing her notes she made her way to the Department of Mysteries hoping to find someone there who could help her. The Unspeakables were still cross with her because she had been allowed to use a Timeturner in Third Year. She didn't fully understand why, seeing as they could easily have denied her request. Be it as may, the Unspeakables were even less inclined to help Hermione as they were to help everyone else. Today, once again all of them were undetectable. Hermione was wandering around the Department opening doors every now and then, but every room so far had been deserted. Including the room Hermione had opened the door to now, but she still didn't walk further. Inside this room stood a gigantic Timeturner. What was it doing here? Hesitant, Hermione entered the room. This had to be the right room, and if she just waited long enough, someone able to help her had to come in. When she discovered a chair, she sat down gratefully. The Department of Mysteries was huge, and Hermione wasn't in as good a shape as in her school years. Besides, she still felt exhausted. And so she slowly nodded off.

Hermione startled. Had she just nodded off in the Department of Mysteries? She felt heat creeping up her neck. That never would have happened to her just a few years ago. With good reason as she deduced a few seconds later. When she had tried to get up, she had realized two things. One, someone had laid her down on the floor, and two, this someone had bound her. Hermione couldn't reach her wand, but supposedly it wasn't in her pocket anymore anyways.

"Help!", Hermione cried. "Help! Is there someone?" She didn't have high hope, but she still had to try. When someone indeed answered, Hermione was shocked.

"Hello, Miss Granger. Did you sleep well?", someone murmured close by. A shiver ran down Hermiones back. Anything but a Cruciatus, she prayed to God, Merlin or whoever was listening.

"No, Miss Granger. A Cruciatus would be too … simple, that's it. We did invent something much better. Repuascero!"

Before Hermione could comprehend what the spell was supposed to do, the world went black. And then, she knew nothing except that there was something terribly, terribly wrong.

"She's actually quite okay, as long as she doesn't say anything.", the man mused."One could almost think her quite cute, even."

He had a daughter at home who was approximately Hermiones age.

"But only almost.", the second man grumbled, stepping out of the shadows. "We should get rid of her as fast as we can. If she wakes up, she'll surely scream again." He scooped Hermione up and laid her down under the Timeturner. Then he inhaled deeply. They had no room for failure now.

"Ready when you are." he said, and both men cast a spell at the same time.

"Foraminem minisculum ferrum!"

The spell drilled a miniscule hole in the glass of the Timeturner, causing a small amount of time sand to trickle on Hermiones head. She crunched her nose for a bit, but didn't wake up.

A quick Reparo closed up the hole in the Timeturner, and the men prepared for the last part of their revenge.

"In tempo novissimo vivet!"

And then Hermione wasn't laying beneath the Timeturner anymore.

A/N: Repuascero: to become a child again

Foraminem minisculum ferrum: make a small hole

In tempo novissimo vivet: Live in a time long gone