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Hermione sat in a chair directly in front of the headmaster's desk, the one she had to remind herself no longer belonged to the man she had once trusted above all others. Reminding herself that Dumbledore was gone like so many others, like her best friend, she tried to push past the guilt that she should be down there continuing the fight like the others. She couldn't ignore this feeling though, not anymore. She now understood that her fight wasn't here, not in this time. Looking up into the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore she took in a deep shaky breath. He stared at her knowingly from where he sat in his portrait behind the headmaster's chair.
"Do you know why I'm here, Sir?" she asked him.
He held his steepled hands under his chin and nodded.
"I believe I do. Some time ago, after I realized the extent of what Harry would have to do to bring an end to this war, I started on a Plan B," He said, his blue eyes shining merrily as if this was a perfectly normal circumstance.
Hermione sniffed in disgust, offended by his ever jolly attitude. Of course, he had a Plan B, one he never shared with them as per the usual. Dumbledore leaned forward in his portrait and smiled as if he could sense her disgruntled thoughts. He lifted a long wrinkled finger and pointed to Hermione's left.
"The fourth shelf from the top, my dear," he said, gesturing towards the large bookshelf that sat against the wall on her left.
She stood shakily and slowly walked to the bookshelf he indicated, something that once would have filled her with excitement but now left her with dread pooling in her empty stomach. Hermione looked over her shoulder at him with a questioning look on her ash-covered face.
"What exactly am I looking for, Sir?" she asked with her brow raised.
He smiled warmly and simply gestured with his hands for her to continue forward. Hermione huffed her annoyance and let her eyes glance at the different colored spines of each book, hoping something would jump out at her. There were several D.A.D.A books and some on Potions, but of course, one book, in particular, called out to her. Its familiar title bringing memories to the forefront of her mind and tears to her exhausted eyes; The Winter's Tale. She touched the worn black leather spine and gently pulled it from the shelf. From the corner of her eye, she could see Dumbledore leaning back in his chair. His fingers were once again steepled under his chin, eyes shining brightly, however, she chose to ignore him in favor of the heavy book in her hands. She knew it as she knew herself; it was one of the first she ever read. She was named after its female lead, after all. She carried the book back to her seat and sat down, placing the book firmly in her lap.
"Open it," Dumbledore said, inclining his head towards the book in her lap.
She tucked a loose curl behind her ear and looked down at the book that seemed to be emanating magic, although it appeared to be nothing but a normal book. She carefully lifted the cover of the book to reveal the first page. In a familiar black script, a small passage read: "To Hermione, with hope for a better future". Hermione's head snapped up to greet the piercing eyes of her former Headmaster, who had somehow known for an indeterminable amount of time that she was going to come to him for help.
"How...how could you know?" she asked in utter shock.
Her chocolate eyes stared up at him in what could be mistaken for horror, but after years of teaching her, he knew it was just her thirst for knowledge. "Ms. Granger, as you are well aware, dabbling with the past can have dangerous outcomes for the perceived future. That is if the wrong person is doing the altering. However, if a smart capable witch with all the right knowledge of time and the future were to go back..." Dumbledore said, trailing off at the end.
"Then she could possibly change the future for the better," she finished for him.
Dumbledore drummed his fingers, in a rhythm only known to himself, on the armrest of his chair. "Theoretically yes, but she could also destroy what is good as well. It's a very thin line to walk. You have to know exactly what to change and what to leave alone. For instance, look at the example of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal. Changing that could lead to even more death than what came from it in the first place," he remarked softly, his eyes turning hard for a moment so briefly that Hermione thought she must have imagined it.
"Sir. You can't honestly be suggesting I can just sit back and allow him to kill Harry's parents!" Hermione growled, shifting to sit on the edge of her seat.
She could hear the other portraits scoff at her outburst, murmuring of her blatant disrespect, to which Hermione shot the offending former headmasters a hardened glare. Dumbledore chuckled deeply at the sight and raised his hands, trying to placate the young woman whose nerves were obviously on edge.
"I never said that you should, my dear. All I said is that you shouldn't change his betrayal of them. It could cause a ripple effect of disastrous proportions. Not to mention you would lose out on the opportunity that knowing his exact whereabouts would bring you," he said with a hint of amusement tainting his voice.
Hermione sat back with a huff. She hated Pettigrew and the thought of knowing that she would have to look the other way, pretending she didn't know what he was capable of, only angered her further. She looked back down at the book in her lap. Lifting the cover and flicking through pages to the middle, she was only slightly shocked to see it was hollowed out. Inside the large hole that had been created laid a silver pouch and two large envelopes. She could sense that inside the pouch was something that was almost certainly leaking magic. As if a force greater than herself read her mind, the book suddenly began emanating magic from within.
"What is this?" Hermione asked hesitatingly.
She kept her gaze on the silver pouch, her hands itching to touch it.
"A very special time turner. One that I'm quite sure you'll remember well", Dumbledore replied, smiling softly.
Hermione touched the pouch and felt a sudden tingle, a rush of magical energy, running up her arm. She slowly opened it and dumped the contents into her palm. The golden hue of her third-year time turner shone in the candlelight coming from the chandelier hanging above her. Her magic recognized the familiar connection she had always felt with this specific time turner, the one that had temporarily saved the life of Sirius Black. Her heart fell as she thought of Harry's godfather, but before the memories could pull her under she pushed them back into the recesses of her memory and pulled the gold chain over her neck. The heavy cold dial fell against her heart where it seemed to calm its heavy beating, almost as if it was reminding her that soon she would be leaving to save those she loved most. She reached down to pull the envelopes from the book and saw that her name was placed gracefully along the front of one, while Dumbledores' was along the front of the other. When she went to open the one addressed to her, she was stopped by the charismatic voice of her mentor.
"Leave that for later when you're alone, once you have given me the one that is addressed to my past self. In yours you will find everything you need to help you in your task," he said.
Hermione nodded and cringed inwardly when she heard shouting coming from the hallways outside her temporary haven. She lifted the dial of the time turner into her hands and looked down at the hourglass that resided in the middle. She finally felt the cloud of thick fear and uncertainty that she had been keeping at bay surrounding her. For the first time, she would be journeying alone. There would be no Ron to make her laugh, nor Harry to help her feel safe. She would be completely alone and the thought of the possible price of failure was a heavy weight to bear. No, she chastised herself, she needed to remember why she was doing this and who she was doing this for. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be lost in her memories just this once. She needed one final reminder of what had led her to this moment.
Hermione Granger stood looking around the room full of rubble that had once been the Great Hall, her brown eyes dull and cold as she surveyed all of the damage. The place where she and her friends had once taken their meals was now filled with the bodies of those who were injured fighting, and those she would never see alive again. Her gaze passed over their pale faces, their empty eyes staring into nothingness as she pushed back the tears that threatened to fall. This wasn't the time to cry or mourn over the losses they had suffered; there was still another Horcrux to destroy. Harry had taken off alone after they had watched Professor Snape killed by Voldemort's snake, Nagini. She and Ron had both offered to go with him to view the memories Snape had given him, but she could tell he needed to do this for himself. Hermione ran her fingers through her thick mane of curls and winced when they got caught in a mess of tangles. She took a hair tie from her wrist and attempted to pull her matted brown curls into a haphazard messy bun on the top of her head.
"Hermione! Over here," Luna called out to her from the corner of the hall.
Her pale blonde hair was singed in random places and her face was covered in blood and soot. Hermione rushed over to her friend, pulling her wand from her back pocket in preparation for whatever she needed. Laying in front of Luna was the heavily bleeding body of Lavender Brown. Wounds marring her neck and chest, she was trembling and gasping for air as Luna tried to stop the excessive bleeding. She had been torn apart by a werewolf, most likely that sociopath Fenrir, and Hermione winced as she assessed the damage, bile rising in her throat, but she pushed it down and dropped to her knees, reaching into her pocket to grab her magically shrunken beaded bag.
"Engorgio!" Hermione said, pointing her wand at the bag that fit in the center of her palm.
The once minuscule bag started growing until it was back to its rightful size. She quickly reached inside and grabbed a vial containing the potion she had created after her encounter with Greyback at Malfoy Manor. It was a mixture of Essence of Dittany and silver.
"Pull the cloth away from her neck Luna," she stated hollowly, pulling the cork from the top of the vial with a soft pop.
When Luna pulled the saturated cloth away from the wound, the blood that was being held back started pouring from Lavender's neck and she gasped weakly. Hermione turned Lavenders' neck to the side and started dripping the silver liquid on her neck, covering every gash she could find. Recorking the vial, she watched the flesh intently, waiting for a sign of healing. Just as she hoped, the bleeding slowed to a stop, and Lavenders' ravaged flesh started knitting itself back together. Knowing she had no time to stop, Hermione moved on to her savaged chest and pulled her shirt back to reveal the claw marks that ran from her neck down to her hip. She huffed in anger and uncorked the vial again, pouring large quantities over the wound. As the silver began to fight the venom from the bite she used her wand to heal anything that was left over.
"Luna, grab a pain relief potion and a blood replenisher from my bag," she ordered quietly, not sparing her friend a glance. Luna turned to the bag and after finding the labeled vials, she returned to Hermiones' side, clutching the vials to her chest tightly, her fingers slightly trembling.
Once Hermione had removed some of the blood that covered Lavender, she used the remainder of the girl's torn shirt to transfigure a blanket to cover the exposed flesh.
"Ok, give her the replenisher first and then the pain potion. The mixture I used on her was designed to heal werewolf bites. It isn't a cure, so she will still have the side effects. Thankfully it isn't a full moon so she won't be a full-fledged werewolf," Hermione said tiredly, rising to her feet.
She ran her bloodied hands over her jeans and looked around the room once again. Madam Pomfrey and the teachers were attending to those that were still clinging to life. The house banners that were once hanging above the tables had been tossed aside, Hermione couldn't help but notice that this was the first time she had ever seen unity between houses. Everyone here was now united against a common enemy; Voldemort. This was what Dumbledore had once spoken of at the end of her fourth year; he had said how important house unity would be in the fight against evil and she was beyond proud of her fellow students. As she glanced around, she could even see the green of a select few Slytherins helping among the wreckage. Ginny and Pansy Parkinson sat on their knees beside a small Ravenclaw, she couldn't be more than a third year, with her left arm wrapped in gauze. She was crying into the shoulder of Pansy who was staring wide-eyed at a smirking Ginny. Hermione pulled her tattered jacket off and tossed it to the side. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed and was trying her best to keep her emotions in check.
"Hermione, are you ok?" a familiar voice asked from beside her.
Hermione looked up into the worn and exhausted face of her former D.A.D.A Professor. His green eyes were filled with worry as he looked her over for injuries. Hermione took a second to do the same, thankful to see only minimal scratches and bruises. She ran her hands over his arms and face looking closely at his chest where she could see his shirt was covered in blood, but she couldn't tell if it belonged to him or someone else. His graying sandy hair was covered in ash along with the smudges across his face. She forced a small smile to try and reassure him.
"I'm fine. Just worrying about Harry. What about you?" she said.
His green eyes narrowed as he assessed her. Sometimes, as odd as it sounded, Hermione thought he knew something about her that even she hadn't figured out yet. He looked at her as if he expected to see something that wasn't there; it sometimes made her feel like he found her lacking. "No, you're not, and who would expect you to be. It's ok to show weakness, Hermione. No one expects you to be strong all the time," he gently said, pulling her hands from his chest with a small sigh. She let his words sink in for a moment and took a deep breath.
"Thank you, Remus." she slowly said and stepped away hoping she hadn't made him uncomfortable. He smiled at her and turned his head to look around the room. Hermione knew who he was searching for before he had said a word.
"Tonks is with Draco, they are...searching for survivors," she said, her breath catching at the reminder of everyone they had lost.
Remus looked at her in confusion for a moment, hesitating a moment, before he finally pulled her against him. She allowed his arms to envelop her, resting her head against his chest. She breathed in deep, willing his scent to surround her and to calm her. Something she hadn't allowed since she had noticed the crush Tonks had developed. Even with her constantly distancing herself from him, something between them had begun to change. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but she hoped that she lived long enough to figure it out. After what seemed like mere seconds a loud uproar met their ears. The first thing that caught her attention was the red hair of the group that was rushing into the hall. Fred Weasley was being levitated inside, the side of his face covered in deep bloody gauges. Hermione gasped in shock and fear as she ran to meet them, Remus following closely beside her. Mrs. Weasley was pale and shaking as her son was lowered onto the ground next to where Ginny and Pansy had been healing the Ravenclaw. His face was pale and ashen, his body lifeless and limp as he was gently rested on the ground. George was sitting next to him gripping his shirt tightly as he laid his head on Fred's still chest, crying out for his brother. Ron and Ginny stood next to their mother who was crying onto the chest of Percy Weasley, who looked guiltily down at his brother, tears leaving tracks on his dirt-covered face.
Hermione stood outside of their grieving circle with her arms tightly wound around herself in an attempt at comfort, unsure of what she should do. She couldn't believe he was gone; she half expected him to shoot upward and start laughing merrily at how he got them all. Her body was shaking with each breath she took as she tried to control the tears that were steadily pouring down her face. At that moment she wanted her mother, her mind spiraling as she remembered that just like Fred, she was lost to her. She would never again see them and that was the worst part of this war; she had lost too much, too many people. Someone took her shaking hand - that had been held firmly against her chest, and pulled her away from the scene. She turned her head to meet the emerald green eyes of her best friend. Harry pulled her out of the hall and towards the entrance where she could see the moon illuminating the dark sky.
"What's wrong, Harry?" she immediately questioned, sensing his unease.
Harry ran his hands through his unruly black hair and looked down at his feet. Before he was able to say a single word Ron was running towards them, his tear-stained face pale and devoid of emotion.
"Harry, Mione! What's going on?" he asked, breathing heavily as he finally caught up with them.
Harry pulled them outside and looked towards the Forbidden Forest with determination. Finally understanding what he was going to tell them, Hermione stepped back shaking her head vigorously.
"No, no Harry. You can't! Please tell me you're not going," she cried, tears beginning to fall rapidly from her eyes to the gray earth below.
Harry's face fell and he looked helplessly between his two friends, the first people he had ever been able to call his real family.
"The memories, they showed me what I have to do to end this....they..." he said, unable to finish.
"It's inside you, isn't it," Hermione whispered.
She wiped the tears from Harry's face as he nodded his head. "Wait, what is inside of him? What's going on!" Ron shouted, his blue eyes shining with irritation at their lack of intelligible words. Hermione took a deep breath and turned towards Ron, her face impassive.
"Harry is going to the Forbidden Forest. He...he is a Horcrux Ronald," she said, her voice breaking at the end.
Realization filled Ron's face at her words and his breathing hitched as he looked at his best friend.
"No. No, Harry, there has to be another way. That can't be true," he murmured, tears swimming in his eyes.
"It is. This is the only way to kill him," Harry said.
He lifted his hands and placed one on each of his friend's shoulders. "You both have to promise me that you will find the snake and kill it once I'm gone. Then you kill him," Harry stated, his voice as hard as steel.
Hermione knew at that moment that he had already come to terms with his fate and that he would bravely face it just as he faced everything else. He was Harry Potter, after all. Everything he did, he did with strength and bravery. She took her best friend, her brother, in her arms and hugged him with every bit of strength she had left. She could only hope it would be enough to get him through what he had to face.
"I'll go with you, Harry," she whispered in his ear.
He pulled slightly away from her and took a brown curl that had escaped her bun and gave it a soft tug, watching fondly as it sprung back into place. "No, I need you both safely here so you can take care of the rest. You are the only two that will know what needs to be done before anyone battles Voldemort," Harry said.
She nodded and he pulled farther away from her. He turned toward the Forest, turning his head to give them both one last nod, and ran off into the darkness, heading to his unavoidable death.
Hermione and Ron stood by the entrance pacing back and forth as they waited, hoping that somehow they would see their friend alive again. A few paces away from them Hermione could see Neville searching through the rubble with the sorting hat in his hands. He was limping, favoring his left leg, a tell that he was injured. She looked away from him and back into the Great Hall where the Weasleys and Remus were still standing beside the body of Fred. She pulled Ron beside her and into her arms where he finally broke down, the loss of his brother too much for him to bear alone. She let him cry until movement at the edge of the forest caught her attention.
"R...Ron..." she stuttered, her gazing frantically searching the tree line for any sign of Harry.
Ron pulled away from her and followed her gaze, his jaw tightening when he saw the large group of Death Eaters approaching the school. Hermione started running towards them with her wand drawn as she looked frantically for the familiar dark unruly hair of her best friend. She barely noticed that Ron, Neville, and everyone who was physically able to fight had followed her to the edge of the forest. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Hagrid exit the tree line with something in his arms. Tears bubbled from his eyes and his breath was coming out in sharp gasps. A sharp snakelike voice that sounded like a hiss caused her stomach to jolt.
"That's far enough," Voldemort hissed as he and the rest of his followers met them outside the forest.
She was surrounded by the others who were all whispering, asking if that was Harry and if he was dead. Hermione couldn't bring herself to believe it. He couldn't be gone, not Harry.
"Harry Potter is dead!" Voldemort hollered into the night.
Everyone around Hermione let out cries of disbelief, anger, and sadness, but she remained stock still. Her heart pounded erratically and her stomach plummeted towards her toes, though no tears fell from her eyes. She felt someone next to her take her hand and with extreme difficulty, not wanting to take her eyes off the group in front of her, she turned to see Neville standing beside her with his jaw tight and the sword of Gryffindor in his other hand. She looked away and glanced back towards Harry's limp body lying in the arms of Hagrid who held him like he did when Harry was but a baby; everything else faded away, the only thing she could see was his body, pale and coddled into Hagrids broad chest. Then the faces of everyone else she had lost flashed before her eyes. Her parents, Sirius, Fred, Dumbledore, and so many others. Their lives flashed before her eyes followed by the flashes of either their deaths or disappearances from her life. She couldn't do this, it was too much; the panic began to bubble inside of her chest, threatening to break free. She turned towards the hard and determined face of Neville and leaned into him, seeking the comfort she would never again feel.
"You have to kill the snake. Only then will he be mortal," she whispered, handing over the duty that had been left to her and Ron.
She could see him say something to her but with a bright flash of red light the next half of the battle had begun and he was suddenly running off towards the snake as Hermione walked backward away from the battle and towards the castle. She lifted her wand and disillusioned herself as she ran. She could see the bright lights of the castle beckoning her forwards as if it knew what she intended to do. Hermione knew if anyone could help her change what had happened it would be Albus Dumbledore.
Pulling herself from the memory with a new resolve Hermione took a deep steadying breath as she started turning the dial.
"A word of caution, my dear." the headmaster spoke once more, startling her. She turned her head to regard his portrait, a glimpse of disdain crossing her passive features.
"This whole day has been filled with caution sir," she grumbled, "but what else could be so important as to delay me further?" With a small sigh, he looked down at her, sadness filling his face and he took a deep breath.
"Just an observation to keep in mind," he murmured, looking at her thoughtfully, "just because you can change an event doesn't mean that the change will be for the better." He cocked his head to the side, a small frown the only flaw on his otherwise serene face. "There may be things that didn't happen this time around that can have far worse consequences."
"We can discuss my potentially flawed plans when I next see you, Sir," she sneered at him, "I really must be going now."
With one last determined look at the headmaster, who sent her a heavy nod, she continued to turn the dial and felt herself being pulled roughly backward, the world around her becoming nothing but a blur. After what felt like hours, but was actually mere minutes, the spinning slowed and her feet made impact with solid ground. Her knees buckled and she fell with a loud thump, her head spinning as fast as her body had during the quick travel through time. She felt a moment of relief before she leaned forward and emptied her stomach, which consisted of nothing but bile and blood, having been empty for far too long. She didn't have the strength to vanish her mess and instead, fell back onto her legs before sliding over onto her side where she felt her heavy eyes close, and darkness consumed her.