"CRUCIO!" Bellatrix screamed gleefully, reunited with her wand.
Hermione screamed in agony. Her skin was being scorched on fire; ice was splintering into her veins. She was being ripped inside out; her mind and soul were being wrenched from her body. She no longer knew where she was… or who she was anymore. All she knew was she wanted it to end… to die.
Then it was gone. Her knees buckled from sheer relief, but she was yanked painfully upright by her wrists. Both of them had been chained to a metal post, leaving her arms open and raised.
"You dare masquerade as a witch with my wand? I'll have to punish you properly." she said, circling around her like a vulture stalking its prey. Bellatrix grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking her head back, forcing Hermione to look at her captor. "It's a delicate art, you know– torturing someone. Keep them hovering on the brink of their sanity. It's no fun once they lose their minds."
"No…" Bellatrix hissed, "I'm going to make you feel everything clearly." She released her, and Hermione's head drooped forward, too weak to even keep her head up.
"Do you know how long I searched for you– you filthy cockroach?"
She pulled her sleeve back, exposing Hermione's faint Mudblood scar, a manic glint returning to her eyes.
"I will never lose you again."
Hermione screamed as her arm was sliced open once more.
"Even when you die," Bellatrix taunted as she re-carved the repulsive slur, "your bones will remain chained out here for all of eternity."
She cackled with delight, throwing curse after curse. Hex after hex, like a hunter perfecting her target practice.
Hermione finally fell into unconsciousness, her limp body being held up by the chains on her wrists.
Cold droplets of rain woke Hermione and brutally dragged her to reality.
Croaker had betrayed them. If she was being honest with herself, there was always a nagging feeling of suspicion in the back of her mind. But she was too bewitched by the possibility he presented— to end the war before it even began. To save millions of lives. What a fool she had been.
The light drizzle steadily intensified into a downpour. She winced in pain, closing her eyes.
Hermione felt a slight weight around her neck. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw a shimmering, silver hourglass laying on her chest. She slowly lifted her head, but no one was there. Suddenly, the pendant was lifted and the hourglass turned.
"I'm sorry," a man's voice said as it kept turning, "I needed to secure my place… in case you fail."
"Croaker," she mumbled.
"Yes— I had to gain their trust. They were already suspecting me."
"Y-you killed him," she managed to mutter.
"Yes… but you can save him, Miss Granger," he whispered, "you can save us all."
The hourglass stopped turning and it fell back towards her chest. Hermione stared into the empty gardens, illuminated by the full moon. Then, the Time Turner began to spin back.
Her surroundings blurred in reverse, the moon waning and waxing at a dizzying rate. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she felt herself getting hurled back into time.