August 1999
"Mrs. Granger."
Hermione sat in Dumbledore's office, being called to attend to one of Harry's private lessons. She felt rather nervous, sensing that this was no ordinary meeting between Headmaster and students. Harry's somber expression did nothing to comfort her.
"Yes, Professor?"
"One more time, I'm afraid, I'll have to ask of you something impossible."
"What is it?"she asked, her grip tightening to the chair.
"This was actually thought of by Harry, but I agreed to it with conditions."
"I don't understand… Harry?" Hermione looked from Dumbledore to Harry in confusion.
Dumbledore nodded gently at him. Harry cleared his throat and straightened himself, gathering his thoughts and courage. "This is not easy Hermione," he started. He glanced at Dumbledore who gave him a second encouraging nod. "We all know what's at stake. Voldemort is very powerful; destroying the Horcruxes might be the only way to stop him and he knows that. I won't feel at ease unless there is another way. A second plan."
"If everything fails," Dumbledore interjected, feeling that stating failure from his part was too harsh for Harry. "When all else has failed, you must find a way. If it is necessary go back in time to find him, and kill him. There is no one as trustworthy with these matters as you, Hermione."
"Why me?" she asked faintly.
"You have already traveled through time on numerous occasions, Mrs. Granger. So you, better than anyone, know the dangers and risks of meddling with time. Harry made it very clear that he, and I include myself in his thought, trusts no one else for a task like this."
"I understand, but I know that Harry will not fail."
Harry gave her a sad smile.
Busy, relentless ticking.
Clocks, of every kind and size, ticked on endlessly. Marking the somber march of time.
Time. Such a delicate matter. It should never be tampered with. Unless, there is no other option, unless there is nothing more to loose.
A beautiful, dancing, diamond-sparkling light was the only source of illumination; the hundreds of clocks that were in the room gleamed with the dancing light.
The familiar sound filled her with bitter memories for last time she had entered that dark room, she had done so with friends. Members of Dumbledore's Army… Ron… Harry… Now, she was alone, running, not only to save her life—to her it mattered little –but to have one last hope of saving all those she loved. She had only one opportunity to regain all she had lost.
"When all else has failed, you must find a way."
Hermione closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as the memory of Dumbledore's words stung. Her fingers clutched the small, black book, pressing it hard against her chest. The sound of hundreds of ticking clocks around her only made the desperation in her heart to grow, they warned her that time was limited.
"What are the conditions Headmaster?"
After the mayhem at the Ministry of your fifth year, time objects are scarce. What I'm going to give you, I will do so only if you promise to not use it unless it is that necessary time.
Panting, out of breath, Hermione reached the giant bell jar that sat on top of a desk; from it radiate the beautiful light. Inside, at the heart of it, the same small egg that she had seen three years before drifted in the glittering wind. It cracked open, the hummingbird came out, and returned once more into the egg, completing the cycle. She placed the book on the desk, her hands fumbled with the neck of her robes.
From her neck hung, on a golden chain, a Time-Turner; violently, she pulled it off. With a flick of her wand she made the small hourglass enter the bell jar. The hourglass started spinning, filling itself with the glittering wind that worked as a current inside the bell jar. When it was full, she pulled it out and took it into her hand.
"Here! This door is locked!" Panic welled up inside her. "Alohomora!" The door was flown open with a bang, followed by the rapid steps of Death Eaters.
Fingers trembling, she poured half of the glittering wind unto the book; the hole that pierced the entire width mended itself and the ink was absorbed by the pages. She exhaled, trying to calm her nerves, otherwise there would be complications in her magic. The tip of her wand rested on the black cover. "Petrificus Tempus," she whispered hoarsely. The book radiated a pale, lavender light which seemed to emit a low humming.
"Are you sure she entered the Department of Mysteries?" demanded one man.
"Yes! She has been here before, so look carefully!" retorted the second man.
They were close. So close to getting to her that she feared the enchantment wouldn't be finished. She placed the Time -Turner on the book. "Tempore-" she gasped for air, unable to hold back her tears anymore, "—Percuriate." The lavender light dimmed. She tapped the objects with her wand; the light vanished completely.
"There!" A hooded, masked man stood at the entrance of the room, pointing a finger at her direction. Two more masked men appeared at hearing his call. Hermione slammed the book open to a random page. "Expulso!"
The spell barely missed her knee, but the force of it thrust, and sent her sliding flat, through the floor, but not before she had grabbed the time turner.
"Stupefy!" Her spell was blocked; it bounced and hit a desk which, flying collided with the Death Eaters. Swiftly, she stood up, advantaging that moment, and raced for the book.
Her time was up.
She put on the time turner, took a firm grip on the book and turned the hour glass once. Instantly, with a deafening roar, the same lavender light engulfed her and the world around her became blurry.
"She has something of the Dark Lord! Get her!"
Hermione closed her eyes as they cornered her. The roaring in her ears suddenly disappeared. Frozen in place, too afraid to open her eyes, she let seconds pass.
Clocks ticked and all else was quiet. There no longer was any sound of men, no cries, or steps. Hermione opened her eyes, ready to feel the claws of Death Eaters, but there was none. She was alone in the room full of clocks, with the bell jar behind her.
She let out a weak breath of relief.
She had done it. She had gone back in time. There was a promise to keep, to Harry and Dumbledore.
"…I know that Harry will not fail."
All of her energy felt like if it had been sucked out of her, unable to hold herself up any longer, she fell to the her knees. At that time, she had been so innocent, so confident that her words were true. Tears and sobs filled the room along with the unstoppable ticking. Hermione hugged the book and wand.
"Hermione… You remember this diary… Tonight- if I fail, you know what to do—this might help. I'm sorry Hermione, for burdening you."
Harry Potter's last gift to her. The Dark Lord's diary pressed against her heart.