Timeless Magic(Tomione Fanfic) Under Revision

Prologue

Beneath the ominous canopy of dark clouds, a tumult of white, blue, and green energies clashed upon the earth. With his reserves waning, Harry Potter, the indomitable "Boy Who Lived," mustered the last vestiges of his strength to unleash a potent spell. Yet, Voldemort, the nefarious Dark Lord, thwarted his assault, countering with the lethal Killing Curse. Evading narrowly, Harry staggered, his legs yielding to exhaustion as he collapsed upon the unforgiving ground, gasping for breath. Surveying his surroundings through blurred vision, he beheld the valiant struggle of his friends, classmates, and allies, locked in mortal combat.

Now was not the moment for surrender. This was their final gambit, a pivotal juncture where the fate of both worlds hung precariously in the balance. Fueled by unyielding resolve, Harry rose once more.

With a resounding cry, he unleashed "Bombarda Maxima," an Explosive Charm of unparalleled magnitude. A deafening explosion rent the air, hurling Voldemort backward and carving a jagged crater into the earth. For an agonizing moment, time seemed suspended as the dissipating smoke unveiled the figure of Voldemort, ominously intact.

His efforts had faltered; hope seemed but a distant memory. Despite Harry's unwavering determination, Voldemort's supremacy proved insurmountable, shattering any semblance of optimism. A sardonic smirk crept across Voldemort's visage, relishing Harry's palpable despair. With a deliberate flourish, he raised his wand, directing its malevolent force toward Harry.

"Avada Kedavra," intoned Voldemort, the incantation dripping with malice. A surge of virulent green light and a thunderous rush hurtled toward Harry, poised to deliver the final blow. Yet, before the fatal curse could find its mark, Hermione leapt to Harry's defense, intercepting the lethal spell with a resolute incantation of her own.

"Confrigo!" she shouted, her voice ringing out with fierce determination.

A volatile exchange of spells ensued between Hermione and Voldemort. His dark magic surged with overwhelming potency, straining Hermione's resolve to its breaking point. With each clash, her wand trembled precariously in her grasp, threatening to splinter under the force of Voldemort's onslaught.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort spat, his voice resonating with chilling finality.

Yet, Hermione, undeterred, countered with unyielding resolve.

"Confrigo!" she retorted, her voice a defiant echo against the darkness.

As both incanted their spells, it became painfully clear that Voldemort's dark magic far outmatched Hermione's own. With a terrifying force, his spell overwhelmed hers, causing it to rebound with lethal consequence. The impact struck her chest, but it wasn't just her physical form that bore the brunt of the blow.

The Time Turner, a relic of temporal power, shattered into countless fragments, dissolving into ephemeral dust. In the ensuing chaos, the world seemed to halt, caught in the eerie dance of swirling particles: golden remnants of the Time Turner, a malevolent green residue from the Killing Curse, and a ghostly white essence from the Blasting Curse. As the earth quivered beneath their feet, time itself appeared to rewind, spiraling backward in a disorienting counter-clockwise motion.

In a disconcerting spectacle, Hermione watched as her surroundings dissolved, morphing back into echoes of the past. Scenes long gone unfolded before her eyes, a haunting tableau of memories revisited. Yet, as abruptly as it began, time froze once more, plunging everything into darkness.

Amidst the void, a profound sense of suffocation gripped Hermione. Though she longed to cry out, a silent force robbed her of breath, leaving her helpless in the face of impending oblivion.

An enigmatic force seized hold of Hermione, wrenching her essence from within. In silence, her mind echoed with the piercing agony of a thousand blades, each sensation akin to being pierced by ethereal daggers. Within her veins coursed a strange amalgamation of liquid hues, reminiscent of the delicate veins etched upon the surface of a golden leaf. These fluids, imbued with shades of green and white, surged through her form with relentless intensity, tracing intricate patterns of cosmic significance.

An inferno blazed within her, though no flames licked at her flesh; an unseen heat surged through her being, consuming her from within. As the infernal heat surged, her eyes underwent a mesmerizing transformation, each iris a swirling kaleidoscope of celestial colors. Within their depths, a symbol emerged, evocative of a vast and boundless cosmos, its significance unfathomable yet undeniable.

The Time Turner, once a mere adornment, now etched its mark upon her chest, a testament to the profound forces at play.

Amidst this surreal spectacle, a blinding cascade of white light enveloped her surroundings, heralding the onset of an incomprehensible transition. And then, as swiftly as the light had come, darkness swallowed her whole.

"The time and the witch intertwine. Eclipsing futures to forge anew. Upon her hands, the script of time is drawn. The witch, arbiter of destinies, her fate woven anew."