In all her time at Hogwarts, Hermione had never experienced a train ride she would consider "calm." So it came at a great surprise that nothing dramatic happened on their way home. The world, it seemed, was at peace for now. Draco didn't stop by with his goons, Fred and George didn't set something on fire – the lack of disturbance kept Hermione on her toes more than anything else could.
She sat with Harry and Ron, as usual, and a purring Crookshanks – she missed the ugly bum more than she thought she would. She had sent him with her parents to Australia, and by the time they came back, he had passed away.
She had researched later that kneazles, much like house elves, thrived in magic-rich atmospheres where witches and wizards were present. Something about kneazles allowing themselves to be domesticated. He was curled in her lap snoring, now, but she had to convince him that she was still Hermione before he would get into his travel cage. The process had involved many treats.
Hermione enjoyed the simplicity of sitting on the train with her two best friends, but her mind was only half present. Part of her was anxiously awaiting Pigwidgeon's arrival, and another part nervously considered how she would interact with her parents. Thankfully, they worked pretty consistent, long hours at the dentistry, but she remembered a trip to France that would put a wrench in her plans.
Finally, Pig arrived, crashing unceremoniously into the window. "Bloody 'ell," said Ron obnoxiously, chewing his pumpkin pasty as he spoke. "Wha' is that?"
"It looks like a fluffy snitch," Harry said, opening the window to peer at the bubbly bird.
Hermione cut in quickly, "Oh look, it's got something tied around it, it must be an owl!" She let him land on her outstretched arm and untied the letter from it. She passed it to Harry, and quickly tied her own package around Pig while the boys were focused on the letter.
"Hey mate," Harry said wondrously, "It's from Sirius! And he says the owl's for you!"
"What did he say, Harry?" Hermione asked, finishing the knot on Pig's leg. As she finished it, the twine and the bag disappeared, disillusioned. The package was a shrunken bag, which on arrival would re-expand (totally illegal, but as Hermione was sending it to Sirius, she doubted it would matter). It contained the second hand wands she had taken from the Room of Requirement, one of the two-way mirrors, and a letter explaining her actions.
She had had to think quickly about how to contact Sirius without the boys noticing, and what exactly she could do to help the man. It had been sheer luck that she found the wands and the mirror, and this way, she'd be able to help him stay away from eating rats for meals.
Her plans were tentative at best, and she itched to write everything down and properly plan. She knew that she couldn't, at least not until she was away from Harry and Ron.
They finished reading the letter, and soon broke into a raucous discussion about the upcoming match between the Hollyhead Harpies and the Cannons. She tuned back in when she heard Ron say, "… the Quiddich World Cup this summer! Dad's getting us tickets. We'll probably have some pretty shoddy seats, but it'll be wicked."
Harry agreed earnestly, and Hermione felt the desire to slam her head against the wall repeatedly. How could she have forgotten the Quiddich World Cup? (She knew the answer, that she wasn't expecting to have to deal with it for three years, but cursed herself anyway). That made her think of Winky, and Barty Crouch Jr., and her plans for the summer came rushing back to her.
Before the Quiddich World Cup, during which period she'd be under Molly's motherly surveillance almost 24/7, she needed to find the rest of the horcruxes. The diadem sat in her book bag in an untraceably expanded pocket (once again, very illegal, but the usefulness outweighed the risk,) and she knew the location of three others for certain.
She had a measly year with which to collect all the horcruxes before Voldemort came back. If she didn't, someone would be able to perform the ritual to summon the bits of Voldemort's soul that were left floating around. This bit of information was impossible to have known earlier, for no one had been twisted enough to create multiple horcruxes (or at least, no one had written it down), but a horcrux which was destroyed after the resurrection of the body did not return to the body itself. It became similar to Voldemort after he lost his body, floating around the world with no tether. One bit of soul, with no one to summon it back, may never regain a body. It was less than a ghost, a sort of wraith that wandered the earth with no way to communicate with the living world.
That is, unless the soul pieces found one another, and someone had the bad judgement to let it possess them.
When Harry, Ron, and Hermione tirelessly destroyed the horcruxes in the original timeline, they weren't killing them – they were releasing them. And bit by bit, those pieces of Voldemort's soul gathered together. What was once the piece of soul in ring, locket, cup, diadem, Harry, and Nagini became the wraith that whispered in Dolhov's ear.
She wished she had a chance to kill Dolhov for his thrice-dammed resurrection of Voldemort at the Ministry, but all she could do was make sure the horcruxes were destroyed before Voldemort regained a body.
The diary was already dealt with, thankfully, but she was going to have her work cut out for her. And all this, before the Trace was removed! She and Draco had expected to have ample time to figure out the Trace problem, and then go after the horcruxes.
Not to mention, she wanted to help Sirius and Harry, then see if she couldn't track down that nasty rat. One thing was for certain, she would be using the time turner much more than a sane person ever ought to.
"Hermione- Mione!" she heard distantly and was brought back to the present. "Are you in there?"
Hermione shook herself, "Oh sorry, boys," she said absently. "My mind was elsewhere."
"Right," said Ron smartly, "Well, we're almost at the station, and Harry needs your tellyfone number."
"Oh yes, of course!" Hermione said excitedly. "Why didn't I think of that before?" Quickly, she scribbled down her number, and continued, "I'd be ever so happy to talk – it gets a bit lonely, you know, as my parents are working every day."
Harry nodded. She was sure it was the last thing the Dursleys would let him do, call a friend and "waste time," but she was expecting to help Harry escape the Dursley's before it would really be an issue.
They settled into easy banter, and all too soon they were pulling into Kings Cross Station, and cries of "I'll see you next year!" started permeating the room. "Well, I suppose this is it," Harry said sadly.
"It won't be too long," Ron said, "And if Dad can get the tickets, we'll pick you up in August. And if he can't, we'll pick you up anyway."
AN: thanks for all the feedback, everyone! Hope you're enjoying the story :)