"You have your mother's eyes, H—" was all that Snape could muster as he gripped to the last strands of consciousness, slumped against the dank boathouse wall. Nagini's bite was the perfectly balanced killer - combining a lethal jugular artery puncture which would cause the victim to bleed out at rapid speed, with a venom preventing healing - Snape's life was seemingly unsalvageable. These thoughts raced through Hermione's mind as she stood back, silent witness to Harry's last interaction with their former potion's professor. Taking a deep, steadying breath as Harry and Ron began their retreat from the scene, she stood her ground and sent the boys away without her. Whilst she knew they'd be stronger as a trio, something niggled the edge of her thoughts which she couldn't shake - call it a gut feeling, she knew in her soul there was something that could be done to save the man who slipped away before her.
As Harry and Ron's hurried footsteps faded away, Hermione allowed the cool environment to wash over her, refreshing her senses to allow clearer thoughts. If only she still had that damned Time Turner - she was sure she just needed a few more minutes to hone in on what her gut was niggling her about… Suddenly, out of the dark gloom, a bright gold spark was hurtling towards her. She blinked to clear her eyes, opening them again just in time to reflexively throw up her hand and catch the object. Unfurling her fingers, Hermione's heart sank as a snitch was revealed. 'Was this what my gut feeling was holding out for? A snitch?'. Realising this probably meant that Hooch's Quidditch equipment stores had been raided and nothing else, Hermione dropped to her knees with a heavy heart, finally giving in to the stress, trauma and heartbreak the past year had been building up to. The motionless form of Snape caused her heart to twist and break with all the pain of grief and failure, and tears flowed freely with a strangled cry from the broken witch.
Through tear blurred vision, Hermione noticed something that salvaged the tiny spark of hope she was fighting to keep alight. The snitch was sparkling, fizzing… dissolving? Every place her tears dropped onto the golden sphere, the snitch's coating disintegrated, as small sparks flitted off it onto her skin, sinking in where they touched. With each spark that hit her, the spark of hope faltering in Hermione's heart ignited that bit further, and the shocked witch's mental strength was renewed. Where once had been a golden shell, now in Hermione's hands lay a swirling magical bubble containing within it an object she could not believe her eyes existed. A Time Turner.
It was as if the gods, spirits, hell even the ghosts had heard her at this time of heartbreaking need. She popped the bubble with the tip of her wand, fascinated as the swirling liquid vaporised and swirled around her. A familiar voice rang out from the shimmering mist - Dumbledore. "Miss Granger, if you are hearing me then the worst is happening and you are in the darkest day. After your mishaps previously with objects similar to the one in your possession now, I reconfigured my personal Time Turner so that it may avoid detection by the Ministry, and only be again used in dire circumstances and at personal cost. Three turns to the right is all it takes. Good luck, and never forget to trust in yourself." Despite the relief washing over Hermione that her only feasible plan was materialising out of thin air, she couldn't help but worry about what the personal cost would be.
One glance at the pained, frozen face of the man before her, his final words to Harry echoing around her head, she impulsively turned the gold rings around the charm in her hand three times to the right, swallowing hard as she prepared for the cost to be exacted. Seconds past, and … nothing. She risked a glance down, and noticed the inscription around the rings glimmering, enticing her to read. 'When the rings of goodness are failing, and the rings of time must be re-spun, to save the pure of heart from ailing, the soul must be shared from another one'. The swirling text continued but before Hermione could read any further, a metal clink broke through the distance battle sounds. A thin, clear needle had protruded from each end of the hour glass. Instinctively, Hermione pricked her thumb with the needle and … nothing. Frustrated, she read on: 'Heart to heart, the hourglass must lead, offering another chance in your hour of need.'
Heart to heart… Surely not, but it was worth a chance - thought Hermione, as she stretched down the neck of her clothing and pierced the needle into her chest right over her heart. For a moment nothing happened, but then a scratching sensation spread over her heart. Staring down, she watched in horror as a swirling orb reminiscent of an unformed patronus spread out over her heart from the needle, like a magical, moving tattoo. The scratching sensation stopped as mysteriously as it started, which Hermione took as a sign to remove the Time Turner. Examining the device, she noticed a shimmering fluid briefly occupying the spike which had just made its mark on her, before it retracted into the hourglass - the material now swirling in the hour glass which she only now realised had previously been empty.
Was that it? Hermione's mind rapidly ticked over - 'heart to heart', something about soul sharing, and the presence of a second needle made her come to a sobering conclusion: The other needle was meant for the man who lay before her. She ran over to Snape's side, and her hand hovered over his overly-buttoned coat, trembling as thoughts raced through her head. Surely she should save this device for Harry… Ron… The Order… Anyone and everyone she cared about who was currently risking death at the cost of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's victory? Why should she waste it on the greasy bat of the dungeons who lay motionless before her now - the man who had reigned terror on Hogwarts for the past year; endangering so many for decades through his spying, underhanded ways; tormenting her and her friends throughout their school days; betraying Lily Potter?
As these thoughts consumed her, and the spark of hope in her heart for saving Snape smoked smaller in the face of all these hard feelings, the Time Turner caught her attention once more. The mystical contents which had filled it up from her heart were dimming, slowing. In contrast, the gold rings were glowing like lava. She clenched the mysterious device tightly in her fist in frustration, realising too late that the glowing metal was, like lava, molten hot. She tried to release the scorching object but found herself unable. As if charmed, her hand stretched forwards without her control and she watched as it pierced the Time Turner's needle through the black fabric coating Snape, and drew out a very dull, dark swirling substance. Transfixed, Hermione watched as the dark, dull liquid mixed in with her own in the hourglass, and the needle retracted itself.
A fleeting, cold sensation filled Hermione's psyche before her vision tunnelled; the last thing she noticed as everything went dark throwing a spanner in her confused, racing mind. The wound on Snape's neck, which by now should have released so much of the rapidly pumped blood, had barely more blood than when the trio were compressing it as Snape uttered his last words to Harry.