Hello readers! This is something I've been working on for a while. I've got quite a lot of it pre-written but not completed as of yet. I'm hopefully going to be doing regular weekly / biweekly updates to give myself time to complete it and keep me motivated to get it done! I have no Beta so please be patient with me.

This is a Bellamione story, so if that's not your thing I suggest you head back now.

Enjoy!

Frantically the group of Hogwarts students ran through the towering shelves lined with dusty crystal balls. Harry had quickly pulled the D.A. from their beds in the night with yet another vision. This time it was Sirius who was in mortal danger, and after Harry had saved Ron and Ginny's father just before Christmas with his connection to the Dark Lord, no one seemed to want to argue. Quickly and blindly, the students followed Harry to the ministry.

However, this still didn't feel right to her. Sirius was still a wanted man, why on earth would he risk detection by going to the most central part of the English wizarding government, a place that would be theoretically crawling with Aurors and Unspeakables? Theoretically that is. Realistically it shouldn't have been possible for a group of teenagers to make their way into the Department of Mysteries either, but here they were. Dumbledore had been missing for weeks and had he known of what Harry was up to, would have never let the group of D.A. students leave the building.

The only reason that they had even gotten this far was with some quick thinking by Hermione Granger when dealing with Umbridge, but the further along they got, the more suspicious she was becoming.

"He has to be here somewhere. I saw it. Everyone fan out." Harry was becoming more desperate, but there was no sign that anyone had stepped foot in the prophecies room in ages.

The D.A. students split into pairs, wands alit as they made their way down the aisles in search of any kind of clues. Hermione didn't like this. He wasn't here. No one was. She had been searching around, her eyes scanning the shelves, scanning the overflowing shelves, and skimming over the labels attached to each prophecy. She wondered how many of these people were even alive still, or if perhaps some of them still had yet to be born yet.

"Harry! Over here!" The whisper yelling of Neville Longbottom echoed through the chamber, causing not just Harry, but everyone to run back towards the sound of his voice.

Hermione was one of the last to make it, wondering further than the rest of the group, but when she arrived she realized there was still no Sirius Black.

Harry pushed his way through the others, walking over to the questionable Gryffindor male. "What? What is it?"

Neville looked even more pale than usual as he pointed to one of the hundreds of balls collecting dust on the shelves. Dark Lord and Harry Potter were scrawled on a tag that adorned it.

No one said a word, or even seemed to breath as Harry reached out to take it.

This seemed to activate it, the hazy ball started to glow a low ominous light as the raspy voice of the divination professor Sybill Trelawney filled the room.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

It seemed like eons before anyone spoke. Harry was still staring at the ball that had finally dimmed again in his hands. "Mate. I do not like the sounds of that." Ron said finally breaking the silence. His nerves had seemed to make themselves more physically known as he started to nervously pant as if he had run a mile, and was preparing himself to run another.

Hermione took a deep breath before reaching out to place her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry? We should go. No one has seen him. We should try to check into headquarters again to see if they know anything." This seemingly proved her unspoken theory. Sirius was not here. He had never been here, and they needed to move, fast.

He was unmoving though, still stuck staring at the prophecy in his hand, undoubtedly trying to take in and decipher its message.

"You know, you should really learn to tell the difference between dreams and reality."

It had been a trap.

A stupid fucking trap. One that she had warned Harry could happen a million times when he used his connection to the Dark Lord. While Hermione was never really one to pass up an 'I told you so' moment, this was most certainly not the best time. Besides, she was very much as responsible for getting them all here as he was.

A quick glance around, and the Hogwarts students were stood back to back, wands at the ready, fear deeply etched into each of their faces. They were surrounded from all sides as the Death Eaters slowly approached the group of teens When had they gotten there? How had they not noticed sooner?

"Harry? Harry what do we do?" Hermione quietly mumbled as Lucius Malfoy slowly approached, his pale hand outstretched towards Harry.

"Hand me the prophecy."

"If you do anything to us, I'll break it!" The feeling in the pit of Hermione's stomach wasn't getting any better. She was quickly calculating their chances of escape, and it wasn't looking good. A hand full of half trained teenagers against a team of Death Eaters? If they were going to survive this, then the ministry should just give them all O's for their O.W.L.s.

"He knows how to play! Itty, bitty, baby, Potter." That cackle, standing next to her, Hermione could feel Neville go rigid at the sight of her.

"Bellatrix Lestrange." She felt equal parts of fear and hatred for the woman who stood before them, clad in the ink black corseted dress, soul piercing eyes peering through the mess of curls that sat on her head. They seemed to stare right into Hermione's soul. It took every bit of her power to remain steadfast and fight the shiver that threated to run through her body.

"Well if it isn't the little mudblood. For such a smart little witch, you sure have gotten yourself into a messy situation haven't you? If you're what passes for the smartest witch of her age, this should be done in mere moments. Now hurry it along Lucius, I want to play!" For a woman in her 40's she acted like a child. Terrifying, but a spoiled brat none the less.

"Now lets everybody calm down shall we? All we want is the prophecy. Don't you want to know? Understand what it means? Give it to me and the Dark Lord will revile everything to you boy." Lucius Malfoy took another step closer and the group of students pulled in even tighter together. Hermione gripped her wand tighter, her knuckles turning white around the vinewood, unsure who to keep her wand trained on.

What would Voldemort need with a prophecy? Surely he knew about it didn't he? If he were the one to set up this trap. Neither can live while the other survives? Maybe there were parts that Voldemort didn't know, that none of them knew. A million things flew through Hermione's mind as she listened to Harry "I've waited fifteenteen years... I guess I can wait a little longer. Now!"

Those words snapped Hermione back to the present. There was no point in trying to figure it out now. Harry needed her now. They needed to get out of there now.

The dark room lit up with spells, stupefies, killing curses, and shields were thrown across the room. Hermione was quick to block an avada kadavra from hitting her head on from one of the masked Death Eaters. "No! The muddy is mine! I like to play with my kills first." Before Hermione was knocked back some with a well aimed flipendo.

'Fuck. Why me?' Hermione thought to herself as she pushed herself back to her feet, looking up to see Nevil's stupefy backfire and knock him backwards. They were already being picked off one by one and she knew she had no other choice but to run. As she ran down a row of prophecies towards the door a jet of red sailed past her head, knocking into the shelves ahead of her, and knocking what looked like hundreds of prophecies to smash against the ground. Prophecies that would never meet their intended recipients. Historic moments, gone in a flash. The cold cackle that erupted close behind was enough to send Hermione's stomach to the pits of her stomach. She was quick to turn around and throw up a shield before a bright white flash was able to hit her.

"Muddy! Muddy! Come back and play!" The witch sang as she followed after the girl. "I'm not done with you yet! Face me lionhearted girl!" Hermione's heart sped up as she continued to run. She was unsure if she was really lionhearted or just foolish.

Hermione gripped her wand tighter "how honored I feel to be the spite filled object of your desires." Before lobbing a fruitless Pertrificus Totalus towards the older witch.

The dark crooked smirk that pulled at the woman's lips was enough to make Hermione feel as though she were already dead "You have no idea dearie." Before another onslaught of curses were thrown at the Gryffindor girl. Sweat and the dust from ancient crystal balls clung to the girls' brow as she deflected them each, the tail end of an incindeo grazing her arm to leave her in pain. Behind the darker witch Hermione saw the youngest Weasley be taken down by a body bind curse.

"Ginny!" Ron bellowed as he ran after to protect his baby sister, surprisingly stunning the wizard who took down his little sister. Before Hermione could call out, for help or a warning, she watched as a man she could only assume to be Crabbe Sr. by the look on his pig face stun her friend.

Knowing she didn't have the stamina to take down the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange on her own, Hermione did the unthinkable in her mind, sending a bombarta at the shelving above the Death Eaters head, sending an avalanche of prophecies down upon her head. Prophecies that would never reach their intended recipients, that she had hoped had died off centuries ago. Whether prophecies were divination poppycock or not, Hermione wasn't quite sure herself, but she knew it was the only way. Gripping her injured arm as she turned on her heels to run further down the hall and out of the busted down door of the heart of the Department of Mysteries. Judging from the frustrated scream from behind her, she knew she wouldn't be getting away so easily. She hadn't stopped the dark witch, merely pissed her off.

Why me, why me?! She mused to herself as she ran through the Ministry, she saw the likes of D.A. students and Order members battling silver masked Death Eaters. Finally, the cavalry! She hadn't even time to wonder how they had known that they were there. She was just grateful for the backup.

She dodged discarded spells, jumping over already incapacitated bystanders, she found herself deeper in the Ministry building than she had ever found herself before on the few short visits she had previously made. While she wasn't sure where she was going, or where to turn next, she knew that to stop would most likely mean her death.

As she reached the end of a hallway, a blow to her back pushed Hermione through the doorway and halfway across the floor, knocking the air from her chest, and gave stars to could her vision. While D.A. practice had certainly helped the fifth year student hone her magic and dueling skills, she was no match for the elder witch.

Hermione struggled to get herself back up to her feet as she heard the slow loud clacking of heeled boots on marble floors approaching. Each step matching the thumping of her heart in her chest and head. "Now Now Muddy no more cat and mouse. Time to put that know it all mouth to the test! They told me that you were supposed to be the smartest witch if your time. I should have known filth like you still couldn't stand up to a real witch."

Wiping her sleeve across her dirty face, sweat stung her eyes slightly, Hermione shrugged as she looked up at Bellatrix, her wand fixed closely on her "What? Afraid of what you don't understand Bellatrix?" What was she doing? Taunting one of the strongest witches in the world? One who wanted her dead? She wondered to herself where such confident words had come from as she tried to simply not pee her pants. "Are you scared of what a bunch of muggleborns can do to stop you? The prophecy is gone Lestrange. But You-Know-Who won't be happy to learn that you failed him will he? That you lost to a bunch of kids."

The dark witch screamed, throwing another barge of curses at the younger girl, pushing her further back into the room, odd artifacts lining the room. It was as she sent an expeliarmus towards the other woman that it dawned on her that she had indeed seen this room before.

The Department of Magical Artifacts housed some of the most restricted and dangerous pieces known to the wizarding world. She had been once before accompanied by professor McGonagall in her third year. Her brief daydream had been cut short however when a hex hit her in the face, splitting her lip and slicing her cheek. As the pain stung in her cheek and mouth, she could have sworn she noticed the Death Eater trying to catch her own breath from the fight. "Why not just give up muddy and accept your fate."

Hermione knew that if this were to be the day she died, she wasn't going to go down without one hell of a fight. "Is that the best you've got? I've had worse in training sessions" and fired a number of stunners towards the Death Eater, one knocking her back across the room.

A brief smile crossed Hermione's lips as she watched as the crazed woman was pushed back across the floors. However, her blood froze in her veins as she saw the dark look in the other woman's eyes as she steadied herself again. Crazed dark eyes, filled with fury were pinned on the bookish girl. "You'll die regretting that mudblood. Crucio!"

She had no time to react, no time to defend herself as Bellatrix shot a curse directly at her chest. Hermione screamed as she flew back, her body painfully crashing backwards into glass and wooden shelving behind her, cuts littering her pale skin and glass in her hair. She hardly recognized it however as her body convulsed under the power and pain of Beatrix Lestrange's cruciartus curse. It felt as if her skin was being peeled from its body, all at once. What she knew was merely a few seconds felt like a lifetime under the hand of the dark witch, but just as quickly as it had happened, it had stopped.

Painfully Hermione was finally able to look up, only to see the bizarre sight of Bellatrix leaving her alone in the room and the door sealing itself back up. Seconds later ministry employees made their way though the door, but none it wasn't right. They came in backwards and were running faster and faster until they all began to blur. She tried to slide out of the way of a woman dressed in black robes who seemed to pass right by her without acknowledging the girl was even there.

Merlin, what's going on? She mused to herself. Am I dead? Because this is shit.

She looked down among the bits of wood and glass shards beneath her to see something that horrified her, perhaps even more than dying at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. She shuffled through the glass shards to pick up the round metal casing of a time turner, the sands pouring out of the shattered glass and mangled casing. She had crashed into the same display case that McGonagall had showed her just a few years prior as they had come to pick up her time turner just prior to her third year.

Hermione knew by Professor Croaker's Law that realistically time could only be turned back by 5 hours, but as the sand ran out of the busted glass bottom of the time piece, she knew that this was more than just 5 mere hours. She tried to count as the room went from dark to light again and again. One, two, three, seven? Fifteen? It wasn't long before Hermione started to loose count. The light and dark started to get faster and faster till it seemed to strobe before her eyes.

What the hell was going on? The frizzy haired girl laid on the floor still in pain from the numerous cuts and abrasions to her skin, not to forget the cruciartus that stung her chest and made her limbs feel numb. Maybe she was just having a fit and it was part of a concussion fueled, coma educed dream? She'd read about them in a few muggle medical books before. Maybe it was death? While Hermione was not one to believe in an afterlife, she certainly could not explain this.

The avid reader knew the worst thing to do was to sleep when one had a concussion, but she was so physically and mentally exhausted. Logic and reason weren't exactly on her side at the moment. How could one stop themselves from passing out? She attempted to reason with herself as she did just that.

Enjoy? Please let me know what you like/dislike! I need some motivation!