Hermione examined the golden frames and the red backdrop once more. Snape had told her to slide the portrait sideways without telling her which side. Knowing Snape's intense security, the portrait would probably explode or vanish if she went the wrong direction.

She paced to and fro across the room, twiddling her fingers whilst her mind whirred furiously.

She studied the illustration once more and replayed his instructions mentally. Slide the portrait sideways and…

She focused on the golden frames. There, she found something odd.

Dust covered all around the frame, except for one spot located down the left frame, still glittering in the bright chandelier light.

Wait, Hermione halted the stream of idea. Just wait. This must have been touched recently. And whoever who had come into contact with this frame knew how to operate it.

Hermione was about to slide it open when she found that she was unaware whether to push or pull the portrait. Wound up, she closely pored over the clean spot again. She caught sight of a faint, easy-neglected outline of a thumb.

Whoever who touched them must have left their fingerprint on it, but to leave an outline means he or she must have wrestled with the portrait, Hermione reasoned.

This also means that the portrait was pulled with a formidable amount of strength. After all, pushing requires much lesser strength than pulling.

Hermione latched her fingers on to the clean spot. She tugged at the frames, which remained still and unmoving. She glowered at it and pulled the portrait towards the left side once more. It didn't move.

Finally, a panting Hermione duplicated herself and attempted shifting the cumbersome portrait once more. She had no idea Snape had returned to that very portrait and was concealed behind the red backdrop, smirking as he watched her.

"Geminio! Geminio! Geminio!" Hermione rasped, collapsing onto the soft bed as she stared at the three more replicas of her forming from mists emitted by her wand tip.

The five Hermiones now heaved the portrait with all their might. It creaked and budged a little. With the continued wrenching, it slowly moved to reveal a blank piece of wall.

"Great, excellent…" Hermione wheezed and Vanished the replicas of her.

Now what? Hermione growled inwardly as she struggled to catch her breath, wiping away the sheen of perspiration formed on her forehead.

Cast a revealing charm.

"Revelio," Hermione muttered, her wand twirled flawlessly. A part of the wall sunk backwards as a black shade broadened on the patch of the wall. A single latch protruded from the opening and a lock dangling on it rattled several times.

"Let's see, Professor Snape told me to unbolt it by using the most basic, unthinkable way of breaking locks," Hermione rambled on, completely lost in the vast sea of thoughts.

"And how am I supposed to do know what basic, unthinkable ways of disengage locks there are?"

She was no excess law-breaker, and had never once in her life attempted break-ins. She also knew that basic unlocking charms were an abortive idea since she was aware, by the experience of breaking Snape's wards, that he was not a person who let his guard down easily. His protection resembled constant sentinels, and to get past Severus Snape was something that the rudiments cannot handle.

Hermione decided it was too late in the night to contact George Weasley, by owl or Floo. The sky, from the looks of the chamber's windows, was now a deep indigo, with scanty amount of stars scattered across the sky. The moonlight was faint, though the soft, yellow glow lighted the Hogwart's grounds just sufficiently.

Hermione exhaled resignedly and was about to head towards Snape's colossal, circular library when her curls became undone. Scowling, she picked up the sharp hairpin with a glittering dolphin attached to the end and was about to fix her hairdo back when her eyes lit up.

The simplest way of unlocking bolts… by picking! The Muggle way the most unthinkable of picking locks!

Hermione stared up at the empty red backdrop of the portrait, failing to see Snape's well-obscured self.

I hope it works. Knowing Professor Snape… the thing would probably blast into minute bits and pieces.

Uttering a silent prayer, Hermione slid her glitter encrusted hairpin into the vault's main keyhole. There was a heavy creaking sound as Hermione heard the bars padlocking the opening shift and the black door of the vault swung open.

"At least you have an ounce of brains," Snape breathed, his eyes glittering as he surveyed Hermione behind the dusty red curtains.

Hermione's eyes widened as she scrutinised the insides of the vault. There was indeed a piece of parchment and a ring.

Hermione carefully fished out the two items, laid them on the bed before she sealed the vault and warded it with her own signature. As soon as the vault door slammed close and the portrait was back in place (it shifted itself automatically), she picked up the two items and placed them on the large, mahogany desktop Snape positioned behind the couch.

Sitting on the amply-cushioned chair, she inspected the materials. The parchment was a blank, dirty yellow, a little torn at the sides but otherwise untouched. The ring in stunning silver, its flamboyant appearance amplified by the diamond extravagantly affixed in the middle of the ring, a letter "S" engraved in the middle.

Hermione looped a few her curls around her fingers as she wandered into the depths of her mind.

The Potions Master had told nothing about how she should regard the two items, except that the rest of the story would unfold itself.

Hermione could have snorted.

She decided to revisit the portrait.

Entering the bed chamber once more, Hermione approached the portrait with fastened striking golden frames. There was no Potions Master sneering at her down from his place in front of the red backdrop.

Hermione sighed heavily.

"Professor?" Hermione called out tentatively. "Professor Snape, can you come out for a moment?"

There was still no billowing of robes and Severus Snape.

After a few fruitless but vehement efforts to urge the Potions Master to emerge, Hermione exited the room, frowning as she mumbled darkly about snarky teachers and obstructive, disobliging Potions Masters.

Snape strode out of the only egress among the red curtains once Hermione departed, smirking lightly. Taunting that spitfire of a witch had been extremely enticing.

"And now, Miss Granger, we see how bright you really are," he drawled softly, treading out of the portrait, intending to spend the rest of the night in Albus Dumbledore's office.

Back at the couches, Hermione sat cross-legged and folded her arms tightly, almost on the verge of uttering blasphemy towards saving the Professor's life. As she eyed the soothing ambiance around her, Hermione's black look darkened when she found herself jammed in this situation.

There was a very sudden trill floating towards Hermione from far away, momentarily interrupting her chain of thoughts and jolting her to senses abruptly. Hermione whirled round to find Fawkes soaring through her quarters by the fireplace and it flew round the room, finally bringing an end to her circling and perching on Hermione's shoulders, her tail blazing in a fiery orange shade.

"You… you want me to go with you?"

Fawkes let out a quavering note as she lifted her beady eyes to stare at the fireplace just as Hermione widened her eyes, realisation dawning on her. "Incendio," Hermione murmured after drawing her wand and the fireplace was instantly ablaze with dancing fire.

Hermione opened one drawer below the mahogany desktop. There was a container of greenish residue filled to the brim. She grabbed a handful, tossed it in the fireplace and promptly seized the two objects before stepping through the fireplace.

"Dumbledore's office," Hermione declared firmly, as she plunged downwards within the sizzling green flames before it vanished.

Hermione arrived at the Headmaster's office with a whoosh.

She stepped out of the fireplace and Scourgified her sooty self with a flick of her wand.

"Headmaster," Hermione addressed, refusing to meet her former Potion's Master's eyes. "Thank you for sending Fawkes when I needed aid. I believe I have found two items that will intrigue you."

"Indeed, indeed," the benign wizard murmured, stroking Fawkes' tail.

Hermione conscientiously set the two objects on Dumbledore's desktop and started her elucidation.

"There were fingerprints on the frame… you don't suppose that's Professor Snape, do you, Headmaster?"

"No, it was me after taking several bottles of Strengthening Drought. Please continue," Dumbledore indicated, looking through his half-moon glasses at Hermione, listening and nodding in agreement as Hermione preached on.

"I have retrieved the two items but not knowing my next intended action. Thereafter, Fawkes turned up and sort of brought me to your office. I travelled using Professor Snape's Floo powder."

The Headmaster observed Hermione before he answered heavily.

"Hermione, you remember the Hat's song, do you?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

Dumbledore raised his wand as the familiar melody met Hermione's ears.

Now that my song is half done,
there will be a selected one.
Sent to swirl back in the past,
revive the brave serpent; correct his cast.
The Lioness and Serpent will then link,
save the catastrophe from its brink.
One chance, one odd and one end,
choose carefully the choice to fend.

The Hat's voice faded slowly away.

"Do you feel you can explain this now?"

"Yes, yes I can, Headmaster," Hermione breathed. "I will be going back in time to the time where, I presume, Voldemort is garnering reign over the wizarding world, also during the time that Ron, Harry and I might be searching for Horcruxes. I will, er, connect with Professor Snape… somehow, I don't know how –"

Hermione turned a nice scarlet shade here.

"And thereafter I am supposed to save Professor Snape from Nagini. There will only be one go at this, and if I fail…"

Hermione tailed off, unable to continue as tears brimmed her eyes.

"That is correct, Hermione," Dumbledore paused, and continued, "Severus is a valiant asset to the wizarding society. Though shunned, he is far most one of the bravest man I've seen, Hermione. Risking his life as a spy, developing the elixir to revive me… He should be alive, even if not bathed in glory, taking a new fresh life."

"I will do it, Headmaster. But… how will I get sent back in time? I would need a time-altering device, like a time-turner… Have you registered with the Ministry?"

"No. You will not be using the time-turner, Hermione. This ring," Dumbledore replied, lifting the ring and rinsing it in the dim yellow lightings. "Wear this and it will transport you to the projected time-frame. You will, er, stumble upon a meeting between me and Severus. I am expecting you, but not Severus and it is natural instinct that you have to face up to. I cannot determine if I am able to er, swerve things, since I would most likely be in a portrait myself then."

Hermione paled. Knowing Snape, he might probably hex her first then interrogate. She fervently wished to be successfully recognised by him…

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled. Hermione coloured slightly, deciding to amend the conversation topic.

"But… but a time-turner? Aren't all time-altering objects monitored by the Ministry? Does this mean the Ministry approved this?"

"No, Hermione. This matter is strictly confidential, and it is my wish that you would keep it clandestine. It would not do to have everyone well-aware of your presence to aid Severus along, or it would be catastrophe. As for the ring itself, it is a Snape heirloom. You can be rest assured that it would do no wrong."

"I'm just asking… what if…" Hermione trailed off as the Snape in the portrait shot her a furtive, vicious look.

"Miss Granger, are you insinuating that my magical abilities are not up to scratch? Or that I would put you in a nasty predicament on purpose?"

"No… no, Professor," Hermione mumbled, reddening.

"I suggest you to be comprehensible and fast because my defenses kicking in is a plausible reaction, and I would not tolerate whining witches," Snape purred, the corners of his mouth curled.

Hermione struggled to compress the boiling rage. She ogled at the Headmaster's desktop as if it were the most fascinating article. She caught sight of the blank piece of parchment and hastily pointed it out.

"Ah yes, Hermione. My old self would what precisely to do with it," Dumbledore responded, his beard twitching visibly.

"I think, Hermione, it's time for you to venture on now. But before this, I would like to add on to the previous information given. You would, after the crucial event, fall unconscious for a short period of time. There, you will meet the younger version of yourself in an unidentifiable place. Because two of you cannot exist at the same time, one of you will need to, as we call it, move on. If you stay in that era, then of course, I think Mr Weasley and Harry would understand if you explained."

With his prominent beam and his eyes shining again, Dumbledore sent Hermione off.

"Take care," he said softly, concern lining his wrinkled features.

Hermione met Snape's eyes as she slid her finger into the silver ring. Snape gave her a nod, before he drawled, "Carry on, Miss Granger."

Once the ring was secured, she felt herself plummet deeper into the ground, swirling through different events of her life… She perceived herself while roaming through the last decade… Her on the Hogwarts Express; breaking up with Ron; Ron and her bickering; her graduation from Hogwarts; the Final Battle with Voldemort experiencing his downfall; Snape bitten by Nagini… And suddenly there were no more images but colours… Diverse, unique tinges flashing around her and she seemed to feel faint…

Hermione felt herself hit solid ground with a thundering slam that made her eardrums throb, something which caused her to clap her hands to her ears.

"Stupefy!"

Hermione heard that silken tone cast the spell before everything went black.