Hermione ran towards the last place she'd seen Harry and Ron. Her beaded bag weighed heavily against her hip. Just under the neckline of her red dress, she wore a Time-Turner. Her time turner. The one she'd used all of third year. She knew it was wrong, but when they had broken into the ministry fifth year and she'd seen it, she hadn't been able to resist. She'd snatched it up and put it in her coat pocket, mere moments before she was struck down by the custom purple flames of Antonin Dolohov. There had been numerous times afterwards that she'd seriously thought about using it to go back and save Sirius.

"There she is! She's heading for Potter! Get her!" She heard a deep voice bellow. She looked around wildly. She paled as she spotted Fenrir Greyback turning towards her with a wolfish grin. Beside him, she saw two young men, but their faces were hidden from her. Thorfinn Rowle was heading towards her from her other side. She spotted the boys in front of her and dived towards them. They clasped hands and vanished. The Death Eater and werewolf cursed angrily.

The trio reappeared in the middle of a busy street. There was a long, angry honk as they darted out of the way of an oncoming bus. They ended up in an alley, leaning on the wall to catch their breath. "Bloody hell!" Ron Weasley exclaimed. "That was too close!"

Harry Potter turned his head to check on Hermione. "Hermione? Are you alright?" She had her arms crossed and was gasping for breath. She nodded as she finally began calming down.

"I'm alright, Harry. Ron is right, though. That was too close!" She whispered shakily. "We need to get off the street. But first, we need to get into more comfortable clothing." She pulled the beaded bag around and opened it. Harry and Ron watched in amazement as she shoved her entire arm into the tiny pocketbook. She saw them looking. "Undetectable Extension charm." She told them.

She was so busy extracting clothes that she didn't notice her hair falling down and winding around her time turner. As she pulled two pairs of jeans out, tossing them to Harry and Ron, she tossed her hair over her shoulders. Whether it actually set the time turner in motion or not, she would never know. But she was suddenly jerked out of sight. Harry's jaw dropped and Ron cursed in disbelief. They stared at each other in horror. 'What was going on? Where had she gone?'

Hermione's breath whooshed out of her as she landed, flat on her back, in the middle of a small group of men. They stared down at her warily. Then one of them knelt down beside her. He was a fair-haired young man, who looked to be about twenty-five. There were two men standing next to him. A huge blond and a younger dark-haired man who stared at Hermione with intense blue eyes. She noticed breathlessly that he had what looked like metal braces on his legs and leaned on a crutch.

The smaller blond spoke to her as he grabbed her shoulder. She frowned as she realized she had no clue what he was saying. He frowned before trying another language. She still didn't know what he was saying. He stared up at the other two in confusion. The young brunet looked around and gestured abruptly at a nearby tent. The two blonds pulled her to her feet and guided her into the tent. Once there, she was shoved into a seat and tied down. The huge blond, who bore a striking resemblance to Thorfinn Rowle, pulled another seat close and the brunet sat down, facing her.

He put out a hand, rubbing it down her cheek. Her breath hitched as his hand slid down her neck and shoulder. He rubbed the fabric of her dress between his fingers, frowning at it. Then he glanced at her. As he started speaking, she was unsure if he was talking to her or his companions. They knelt on either side of her and felt the dress themselves. Evidently then, he was speaking to them. She listened closely, still trying to figure out which language he was speaking. They were dressed in what looked to be leather armor. 'Were they cosplayers? Had she interrupted some type of role play?' The way they were dressed reminded her of the pictures she'd seen in history books of Vikings. If they were cosplayers, they were certainly taking their roles very seriously.

The brown-haired boy facing her appeared to be the leader. The blonds both listened to him speak intently. Then they all turned to stare at her again. She decided to try and communicate with them, since they were making no more attempts to speak to her. "My name is Hermione. Who are you?" She spoke directly to the young leader. He stared at her in confusion. She wiggled her arm around until they got the point and untied it. She patted her chest. "I am Hermione." She reached out, noting the way he drew back before allowing her to touch him. "Who are you?"

"H-her, h-herm?" He leaned forward, holding onto her hand. She smiled encouragingly at him.

"Hermione." She pronounced it slowly. He threaded his fingers through her own.

"Hermione." He repeated hesitantly. She smiled and nodded at him. Then she tapped his chest again. He pointed to himself.

"Ivar." He declared. "Ivar, the Boneless." He stared at her challengingly. Her jaw dropped. 'Oh, dear Merlin! Was he serious?' She glanced at the blonds who were watching for her reaction. Then she remembered and looked down at the braces on his legs. 'This couldn't be- how? How was it possible? A time turner couldn't throw her back more than five hours, or so she'd always been told! How was it possible that she'd been thrown back to the time of one of the most ruthless Vikings of all time?!'

Hermione was so absorbed in the shock of realizing that she was in deep trouble, she didn't notice Ivar waving the other two men out of the tent. When she blinked herself back to reality, it was to discover that she and Ivar were very much alone, and he was pulling her closer.