#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
"I will be back in a moment. If he starts to bleed again, call me back," Hermione says, turning again on her heel as she moves west from the camp and into the intended cover of the forest, face forward and never looking back.
"Where are you going?" Harry questions, standing to his feet as he watches his friend make some decision and commit to some strange maneuver, mentally.
"I will be back," she shouts back without turning her head towards her two adopted brothers that she loves so entirely. For them, it will be minutes, but for her, it may be months and years--she must have the courage to never look back.
"Hermione!" Harry shouts after her again, never having seen her act in such away.
"I am going to the loo!" she says, finally covering herself behind a tree a great distance away. The words, though Harry is pretty sure they are false, ensure his distance from her as she pulls the Time-Turner from beneath her acquired clothing, attached to a string that Hermione did not notice upon Dumbledore's gifting.
It is scrappy, much like muggle paper materials, wide and thin with words and numbers:
09-Illi Videbunt Lucem 19-Et Potestas Tenebrarum 97- Et Lux In Regno
Grabbing at her wand, Hermione softly voices the marked incantation under her breath, basking the Time-Turner in a rosegold glow. Hermione Granger's hands worm around the dialing mechanism of the Time-Turner, well practiced in the nine turns marked. Looking ahead of her, and never back, Hermione takes a deep breath, finally pressing her thumb into the button of the device and sending her off into the past, and consequently, her future.
///////////////////////
Where she arrives is exactly where she expects, the first thing to happen as planned in the many months previous. Looking around, it is a dear sunset time, basking the trees in a light much like that of the Time-Turner as she shoves it down her shirt, not to be seen for some time. No one seems to prowl these areas of the forest, given the silence of the lands minus the god-sent winds, and yet, Hermione has learned not to trust such senses.
The girl, eighteen as of recently, turns on her heel and away from the forest. Knowing exactly how this is to go, given the months of her planning, she finds herself planted firmly in the darkening streets of Hogsmeade, the weather reflecting winter here rather than the autumn from where she came. And yet, she takes it in stride, having faced much worse than low temperatures, as she sidles into the shadows of the closed shops, revealing herself to no one even as she blindly gazes at a strewn copy of the Prophet: December 31, 1944.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
And though it is winter and presently dusk, Hermione wonders where people are, having seen none on her way through the streets. Yet, just as the newspaper revealed the date to her eyes, the Daily Prophet reveals more information, and illuminating news at that. Hermione Granger had forgotten, momentarily, that this was the time of Grindelwald's greatest power, having conquered much of Europe and now looking to England. The paper explains the controversial decision of Headmaster Armando Dippet, of Hogwarts, to have dementors protecting Hogwarts starting the first of Winter Holiday. It takes all of Hermione's power to avoid huffing in irritation at the obviously bad choices of some Headmasters, though she is to know better than most.
