Hourglass (rewritten as of 16/05/2018)

Chapter Four:

CHAPTER FOUR:

Stealing the Stone wasn't that difficult, considering three first years had been capable of getting past the defences. Hermione completed that task before breakfast. Honestly, if Voldemort wasn't such a coward, he wouldn't have had to wait around until June. The Mirror of Erised wasn't even set up in the last room yet, instead the Stone was contained in a heavily warded pouch. It only took her around twenty minutes to lift the wards long enough to replace the Stone with a replica, and then she turned into her owl animagus and flew back out of the chambers.

After locking the Stone in her trunk, the inside of which was covered with enough runic arrays that her trunk could be hit by a nuclear missile without receiving a single scratch, Hermione made her way to the Great Hall where Filius was already handing out schedules, and the small professor giving her a bright, beaming smile as she accepted hers.

The first week of classes passed the same way as Hermione remembered it, though her schedule was slightly different considering she was in a different House. History of Magic was as dull and uninteresting as ever, she spent all of Defense Against the Dark Arts talking herself out of killing one of her professors (the last time she'd had to do this was in fifth year, with Umbridge), Astronomy and Herbology were tedious and Charms and Transfiguration were painfully simple. Even Potions failed to break the monotonous routine, though Hermione was gratified that Severus didn't appear to recognise her.

Astronomy and History of Magic were the only two classes she shared with Harry (and Ron and Cordelia). Harry already appeared to have made fast friends with Ron and Cordelia and Hermione wasn't exactly sure why that had surprised her. It just... it felt like she'd been replaced and that hurt. To stop feeling like she'd been stabbed in the heart every time she saw the three of them she had to remind herself of the fact that her Harry and Ron didn't exist outside her memories anymore and that her purpose was to make sure that Harry was raised right this time, that his childhood was as safe and as normal as possible.

Flying lessons with the 'Puffs passed peacefully and without interruption. She heard later that Harry, once again, made it onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team, thanks to Draco Malfoy and she tried not to cry (her heart ached just as much at everything that stayed the same as it did the things that she'd changed).

Hermione took care to perform above average in classes, but not to stand out. Easily and swiftly completing any homework and tasks given to her, she spent a majority of her time planning what to do about the Death Eaters. After much consideration she'd decided the best move would be to get rid of them and gave herself the deadline of the last day of the Christmas holidays to deal with the inner circle then the rest of the year for the senior Death Eaters as well as any unmarked Blood Purists who had committed terrible crimes during the War, such as Umbridge— and possibly Fudge (she would definitely be making sure Umbridge met a sticky end).

With how occupied she was planning out the assassinations of multiple high-profile targets she didn't even realise it was Halloween until she turned a corner and found herself face-to-face with a twelve-foot mountain troll. She'd gotten into the habit of going to the kitchens for food in order to avoid having to join the Great Hall and all the children within it during meals and had been making her way there from the library when she'd come across the beast.

Eyeing it calmly, she raised her wand as the troll bellowed what loosely translated to "Kill! Kill squishy!" in its native tongue and without hesitation transfigured the cartilage in its nose to white phosphorus.

When the troll took it's next breath, it proved to be its final, the oxygen triggering the phosphorus's pyrophoric properties. The entire mass of phosphorus flashed to flame and the burning mass was somewhat contained by the tough hide of the troll, certainly long enough for a thermal pulse to push inward into softer tissues. The resulting explosion reduced the creature's head to a fine mist. The troll collapsed to the floor with an echoing thud.