Dumbledore was dead...

Those three words echoed through Hermione's brain repeatedly without stop, a part of her unable to fully process it. The wise old headmaster was the last person she ever expected to die. She, along with many others, had always thought that he would be at the forefront of the battle against Voldemort, fighting side by side with Harry, and yet he was one of the first to go.

One thing was for certain; Hogwarts was lost without Dumbledore.

A state of panic and chaos had filled the student body in the days to come after their headmaster's demise. Many were demanding to return home, no longer feeling safe in the castle. Professor McGonagall, who had stepped up to take Dumbledore's place, was trying to maintain order as best as she could, but you could clearly tell that even she was at a loss.

Both classes and quidditch had been cancelled until further notice, with strict laws implemented in order to keep the students as safe as possible.

Students were not allowed to leave their respective common rooms without permission, and even then they had to be escorted to their destination by no less than two teachers. Every night and every morning, a register would be taken by the head of the house to ensure that no one had gone missing.

Mail both in and out of the school was restricted and was to be searched before being delivered to its recipient.

Specific rooms in the castle were strictly off limits, namely the Room of Requirement as well as Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom. Basically, any and all rooms they thought might hold a connection to Voldemort and his death eaters.

And so Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves on lock-down, confined to Gryffindor Tower with a gradually increasing lack of things to keep them entertained. There were only so many books in the tower for Hermione to read before she ran out and there were only so many games of wizard's chess and exploding snaps that Harry and Ron could play before they got tired of it.

After about two weeks of confinement, everyone was starting to grow tired of it. Although they pleaded over and over for the lock-down to be lifted, or at the very least to be lessened, the teacher's minds were made up. Ginny even argued with McGonagall, pointing out that a small quidditch match might help lift the students' spirits. As much as McGonagall liked quidditch, the answer was still the same. It was too risky.

"How much longer do you think this is going to last?" Neville asked as they all sat around the fire in the common room. "You don't think they'll keep us here forever, do you?"

Nobody knew quite how to answer that, probably because they were all wondering the same exact thing.

"I'm sure that McGonagall will let us go as soon as it's safe to do so," Hermione tried her best to stay optimistic. They all needed as much reassurance as they could get.

Harry, who up until that point had kept to himself for the most part, scoffed at that. "In that case, we're likely never going to leave this place. No one is safe, not as long as Voldemort's out there."

"Don't say his name!" cried a nearby first year.

"I refuse to let myself live in fear!" Harry exclaimed. "Voldemort will only grow stronger unless we go out there and try to stop him!"

"And how do you suggest we do that? If Dumbledore couldn't stop him, what chance do we possibly stand against him?" asked Seamus.

Tensions were running high. Being cooped up had left everyone frustrated. They were starting to give up hope, and for good reason. The circumstances were undeniably grim. Voldemort could very well attack the school at any given moment now that he had succeeded in killing Dumbledore.

"We can start by hunting down his horcruxes. Dumbledore and I managed to find a few of them before he died. He had them hidden away in his office last I remember."

Hermione understood what he was getting at, and while she knew that it was their only real hope of defeating Voldemort, it certainly wouldn't make it an easy task to accomplish.

"Harry, I know what you're thinking and it's too risky. Even if we were to track down all of his horcruxes, we still don't know how to destroy them," she reasoned.

"Right you are, Miss Granger."

Jumping at the sound, they turned to find Minerva McGonagall standing in the doorway behind them with a particularly stern look on her face.

There was a chorus of gulps as they all wondered just how much of their conversation their head of house had heard.

"I must impress on all of you not to do anything foolish," McGonagall warned. "I know that this is hard for you, but I ask that you continue to hold tight and trust us. The other professors and I are doing all that we can in the face of this crisis."

No one dared to speak after that. All they could do was nod their heads obediently.

"Now, I suggest you try to find something else to do with your time."

One by one they disbanded, going their own ways. Seamus & Dean headed upstairs to the boys dormitory. Neville went over to one of the desks and opened a big book on Herbology. Harry and Ron eventually gave in, be it rather unwillingly, and started up yet another game of wizards chess.

Hermione was just about to head up to her dorm and find a book to reread when she felt McGonagall place a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"If I may, I would like to speak with you in private, Miss Granger," McGonagall said. "Would you please follow me?"

The request caught her slightly off guard. Over the last couple of weeks that they had been confined to their house, not once had McGonagall given permission for them to leave. While she wasn't sure why her Transfiguration Professor would want to talk to her and not Harry, she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to leave the tower, even if for only a few minutes.

"Of course, professor," she nodded.

Allowing McGonagall to step through the portrait first, she cast a quick glance back to find that the eyes of the entire common room were on her. Most of them were glaring, no doubt jealous that she got to leave and they didn't. Even Harry and Ron didn't seem too pleased. She felt a pang of guilt for leaving them behind, but quickly squashed it, knowing that they would have taken the opportunity just as eagerly if they had been given it.

Once out, she found Slughorn standing outside, and soon stepped up behind her as they headed off down the corridor.

Her mind couldn't help but fill with questions as to what they might want to talk to her about. Perhaps they needed her help with something? She assumed that it probably had something to do with keeping Harry and Ron out of trouble, either that or something concerning her role as prefect. At least, those were the only ideas that came to mind.

In passing she managed to sneak a glance out of the windows. Even outside of Gryffindor Tower, things still seemed pretty bleak. The sun was nowhere to be found in the sky, concealed by a thick layer of ominous clouds. She wasn't sure if a storm was brewing or if it was a sign of Voldemort's presence.

McGonagall and Slughorn soon noticed the state of the sky as well, and based off the way their faces paled at the sight, she had to assume it was the later assumption.

"This is not good," Slughorn claimed, a slight tremble in his voice. "We must hurry before it is too late!"

Breaking out into a full out run, the two professors all but pulled her along.

Hermione didn't bother to try and resist or even question them as to what was going on. It didn't take a genius to sense that danger was looming over them. The school was under attack.

She wondered if the rest of any of the other students knew that. Shouldn't the professor's be frantically trying to rally their defences or evacuate the students through one of the many secret passageways? Why had they asked to speak with her? If anyone could help them defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters, it was Harry.

Finally they reached the all too familiar Gryffin statue that hid the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Sherbet Lemon," McGonagall muttered the password between ragged breaths.

Hermione briefly noted how they had chosen the password in honor of Dumbledore's favorite muggle sweet, but she did not have time to dwell on it.

Without delay, they raced up the spiral stairs and through the door, casting a locking spell on it after they were all inside.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Hermione glanced around. The office had remained much the same as how Dumbledore had left it. Portraits of all of Hogwarts' former headmasters still hung from the walls and the walls were lined with shelves of various awards and trinkets that had belonged to it's previous resident. Even Fawkes was there, perched on his usual stand.

"What is going on, Professor?" she asked at last. "Why did you bring me here?"

With a deep breath, McGonagall took her seat behind the desk, staring at her young student for a moment before speaking

"We have debated over whether to inform you, but it would appear that we have no other choice but to ask a terrible favor of you."

"What is it?"

Reaching into one of the drawers, McGonagall pulled out a scroll tied with a shiny red ribbon and handed it to her. "Dumbledore left this for you."

Her eyes widened slightly. Dumbledore had left something for her? She had expected that he might leave something for Harry, but her? Curious as to what it could contain, she unrolled the scroll and began to read.

'Miss Granger,

If you are reading this, I can only assume that my fear has been realized and that I have met my end. Voldemort is sure to target the school once I am gone, and Harry will be forced to follow through with his inevitable destiny.

As I sit here, contemplating the future, I find myself filled with guilt at the prospect of placing such a heavy burden on young Harry's shoulders. His is a fate I would not wish on anyone, and yet I am afraid to say that what I am about to ask of you is no better.

I do not claim to be perfect, although many saw me as such. Over the years, I have made many mistakes, some of which could have prevented the very war that we now face. Many years ago, I made the mistake of shunning a boy who could have ended up very different had he only had someone to lead him out of darkness.

Along with this scroll, I have left a rather curious time turner that I was gifted many years ago. I do not trust myself enough to use it, but I do trust you. The time turner is much like the one you were given in your third year, only that it has been enchanted to take you much further back in time. However, once you go back, there is no coming forward. You will be evidently stuck in that time.

If you decide to use it, and I sincerely hope that you will, you will find that I have already set it to the date I would have you go. Please, do whatever it takes to stop Tom Riddle from becoming Lord Voldemort.

~ Albus Dumbledore'

Hermione spent a few minutes just staring at the scroll, rereading it to make sure she had read it correctly. Unfortunately, it soon became clear that she had not misread it.

"Tell me this is some sort of joke."

McGonagall and Slughorn exchanged a look between themselves before returning their gaze to her, shaking their heads.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger," Slughorn answered.

McGonagall then pulled out a silver time turner, which she could only assume was the one Dumbledore had left for her.

So many different emotions bubbled up inside of her that she couldn't figure out which she felt the strongest.

On the one hand, she was confused. Stop Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort? How on earth was she supposed to pull that off? From what Harry had told her about his encounter with the sixteen year old memory version of him, it sounded like he had been well past the point of saving.

Then there was anger. She was undeniably angry at Dumbledore for asking so much of her. He claimed to have felt guilty about placing the burden on Harry yet seemed to have no problem with asking her to take the burden upon herself. Did he not realize just how much she would be giving up to follow through with this request of his? She would be leaving behind everything and everyone she knew and cared about to go back in time and try to save a heartless monster. What would her parents think? What would her friends think?

"Harry and Ron... I can't just leave them," she objected. "Merlin knows they'd do something foolish and get themselves killed without me."

It seemed that McGonagall had already considered that.

"I know this is not an easy task to accept, Miss Granger, but I genuinely believe that it is our only hope. You would be saving many lives. Mr. Potter would still have his parents, along with his Godfather and many others who were lost. Your friends wouldn't need you to look after them."

She bit her lip, something she often did when she was deep in thought. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Professor McGonagall did make an excellent point. If she were to succeed, and she wasn't entirely sure if she would, then the whole world would be better off as a result.

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall seemed convinced that she could do this, and she had to admit that the other option would probably involve losing a lot more lives. After weighing the pros and cons of both options, she finally made her decision.

"Alright, I'll do it," she relented. "But on one condition…"