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March 1996
Hermione wakes in a haze, the voices of many crowded into her small bedroom invade her thoughts. Something was wrong, she knew this, she just couldn't put her finger on it.
"She moved" comments the voice of Harry sounding painfully hopeful to which Fred replies "don't be barmy she didn't just move". Hermione is accosted with the painful realization, it hadn't been hours or even days since the morning with Snape and Tonks, with a feeling in her gut she knew she had been laying here for much longer.
Hermione slowly opens her eyes, the bright lights of her bedroom and the noise of the small crowd overwhelming her. Her ears ring and she tries to adjust to her surroundings. Tonks and lupin stand loosely embracing and the others talk amongst each other. They are not expecting any movement, they are not expecting her to return.
She shot up into a sitting position taking a loud gasp of air, Sirius makes eye contact with her and she's relieved to see him. He was okay, he still cared.
Wilted flowers sit aside her bed, and she notes the worn expressions on the faces of the adults, they weren't expecting her to rise.
"well, I must have been real knackered but you needn't gather for this" She spoke, her voice low as if her vocal chords were coated with dust. She ran a hand through her hair trying a smooth out the knots without much success, she needed at the very minimum a shower and a change of clothes.
"you heard her get out!" yells snape from the back and the room empties quickly, Hermione winces at the shouting but appreciates the gesture all the same. She takes a look at him, and guilt forms as she observes the deep crevises underneath her eyes evidence of his complete lack of sleep.
He conjures and glass of water and she accepts it eagerly. She pours the liquid down her throat quickly and in mere seconds the water is gone. The ache in her throat is quelled and without question she drinks the various potions Snape hands to her. She recognizes the taste of some, the distinguishable bitterness of pepper-up leaving residue in her mouth. Hermione regrets drinking all the water so quickly but cannot bring herself to ask for more.
Snape sits on a nearby chair giving Hermione space to acclimate. "Three months" he drawls breaking the long silence answering her unsaid question. "you were unconscious for three months" his voice cracks and Hermione feels guilt, she had hurt him and then fallen ill.
"three months" she repeated incredulous. "I'm sorry" she spoke, looking at him, but he shook his head adamantly "you're alive" was all he said as he made his leave.
Her heartbeat quickly and heart head spun as she jolted up to her feet. Her vision tilted on its axis, and she didn't worry about the pajamas she wore that clearly didn't belong to her or the state of her appearance. She needed to get to Harry. The rest could wait but she needed to see him. He needed to know she was okay.
Hermione used the railing to make her way down the stairs, too fast and her vision blurred but she progressed determined. The group had sat themselves at the breakfast table a spread of toast and eggs with all the fixings lay before them. Hermione's stomach growled at the smell, she was famished but could wait, at least as long as it took to speak to Harry. She pulled herself into the seat beside him.
"if this is the kind of food ill receive, remind me to render myself unconscious more often" she tried to crack a smile, but she only received hollowed looks in return. The kettle screamed, and some ate silently.
"Thank god you're alive" said Harry bringing her into a tight hug, and Hermione knew that things would be okay. Her and harry could make it through anything.
The group that composed of the Weasleys, lupin, Tonks, Blaise and snape soon fell into easy conversation. Even snape was telling albeit short, stories. Each catching Hermione up on what they deemed important in the last few months.
The newspapers had determined Hermione missing as of a month ago, and the order members were under strict orders from Dumbledore not to correct them. Tonks had another partner get killed and mad eye moody was one finger less. Remus had taken to a job at a bookstore in muggle London and despite still continuing to reside in grimmauld place, he had bought his families old home. The anti-lycanthrope legislation remained but he was surviving, and Hermione smiled at the way Tonks squeezed his hand as he talked.
Death Eaters had taken over the ministry and muggleborn registration had begun the week prior. Hermione didn't miss the horrified looks passed between the others; this was what they all had feared coming to pass.
Fred's joke shop was still surviving well, she supposed people needed a laugh as the world turned darker. He had stopped producing the more violent of his jokes and began handing out instant darkness power to those he who knew the code. It was not a foolproof plan, but any such products had been banned by the ministry and he couldn't afford to get caught, Azkaban was no longer the scariest punishment.
She had missed Christmas, and Harry had excitedly pointed to a display of presents in brightly colored papers and encouraged her to open them after the meal. She supposed spending a childhood wanting presents and never receiving them made him more susceptible to the enjoyment of such things, besides any moment of light was to be cherished. She received many books, one on curse breaking and one on magical bonds that she was especially excited about. New quills and ink sat in packages and several parcels of new clothing. She felt warm at the thought that people had cared enough to package her gifts even as she lay unconscious. Hope was a powerful thing.
One package however, felt wrong. Since she woke up she began notice feelings about people and objects. This package was different than all the others, instead of the bright greens and reds that the others had been encased in this gift was encased in a simple back box. On the top, gold lettering had inscribed the letters M.P. she looked around in confusion but snape had swiftly nodded.
The box was cold, dark and Hemione had to restrain the shiver that accosted her body as she touched the object. Inside, resting in soft cushioning was a time turner the familiar pink sand glistening in the afternoon light. She quickly slipped the object around her neck and tucked it under her shirt, it warmed slightly at the touch.
Hermione smiled at Harry and the not too subtle Lupin and Sirius who were watching a few feet away. A time turner was a dangerous object and a very illegal one. Being caught with one was not an Azkaban sentence but immediate death. She remembered the warning Dumbledore had given her the first time she had received one, dangerous things happened to those who interfered with time.
A small note fell out of the box "for when you need to revisit a time already lived". It was unsigned and Hermione could not help the feeling of dread that sat heavy on her chest. She had almost killed herself by overworking the last time she had been in possession of such an object and she could feel with no reason but her own intuition that this time would be no more enjoyable.
Only days after her awakening Hermione arrives at the address from Dumbledore's note with a tight feeling in her chest. Her teeth chatter in the March wind, but despite this she stands in the dismantled remains of the protection wards for a moment longer than necessary. It was no use, she knew what she was here to do, but she took no pleasure in it.
The home was brightly colored and a large expanse. The walls are colored yellow, and the furniture is detailed, and Hermione imagines that just one cabinet cost more than she could imagine possessing in her life. She imagined there was a time she would have enjoyed perusing the two libraries she passed as she entered the house, the beautiful books she wished to hold, but she had no time for such frivolous desires. Catching movement in her peripheral vision Hermione observed something odd, he was expecting her, he had been tipped off of her visit.
"Jacob, I just want to talk" she lied hoping to entice his curiosity rather than his desire to run. She heard to creek of the wooden paneling from the siting room and she moved swiftly to his location. She catches him at the door, but a quick tripping jinx and disarming spell gave her the upper hand.
"Please, what do you want" He asks his voice shaking. He was young, his blond hair yet to turn white and his face was only slightly marred by lines and age. She didn't answer, Dumbledore was right, he had to be, it was for the greater good.
She pushed him against the wall, she was smaller in stature but what she lacked in height she made up in strength, even the months of inactivity did not diminish this. She held her hand and his throat.
"Morgana forgive me" she whispered and taking her blade cut through his throat. She stayed with him as he faded away, no one deserves to die alone.
'It must all be done' Dumbledore had requested and with one last look she set the home ablaze. It had to be done. It engulfed into a purple fire and her magic sang at the pleasure of being used. She felt powerful and guilty for the joy it gave her.
It wasn't long before she stood before baren land, but his eyes remained etched into her memory. His blood had settled trapped into her nailbeds and Hermione wondered when this had become okay. When had they, the good, the light dabbled so much into the grey. Or perhaps it was only Dumbledore, using her for her talent, using her for her dedication.
They would win, this she was sure, she only questioned if she would have anything left when they did.