Eleutheromania

As the battle of Hogwarts ended, Hermione, Ron and Harry went to count all that had died, from ages 90 to even 15 years of age, seeing the faces of people she loved torn and bloody made Hermione realise that she could've been one of the "unlucky" ones that Ron had said to her to make her feel better, she could've tripped over her own feet planting a permeant death sentence at her own cost, or maybe said the wrong spell, or she wasn't quick enough or that she simply didn't move, perhaps fear had overcame her which made her not move which always could've landed in a horrible death. or she could've gotten lost and aimed for, as much as her, harry and Ron hid she still knew she still wasn't safe, every decision she made, even what she ate for breakfast was carefully planned out incase that was the day they got caught.

Before all of the war talk happened Hermione felt as if she was on top of everything, on top of classes, on top of schoolwork. she even made friends despite her normal bossy manner. until that all came crashing down the second she saw Cedric's body cold on the floor at the triwizard cup made her realise that this was all real, Cedric's death wasn't more of an accident like Dumbledore try to play off, or some miscalculation they made with teleporting them back instead of at the grave yard, that someone had to have planned this all out, someone had to think of a way to make a statement without getting to Harry Potter, but more so Harrys friend to make him afraid, that was the proper wake up call Hermione needed to get her head in the game.

for weeks after the incident was spent in the library, researching, studying, calculating the best way to handle any situation that may come her way in the future, incase the bane of her nightmares were to try attack her on the street, harry always told her that "he'd never strike in public" but harry also said the triwizarding cup was awfully safe and "Dumbledore has it all sorted out".

then back to Rons comment about the deaths of people she loved to be deemed "unlucky" like it was set in cards that they would die that day, that's why she wondered about Cedric and if it was just "unlucky" that he happened to have touched the trophy the same time as harry, or how it was "unlucky" to be aimed at by Voldemort. and definitely not all by coincidence that someone had to have thought it out.

she could've been one of those bodies counted, that was still hidden, like a haunting memory, under all the dust of the fallen stone walls,  scattered around like a disaster waiting to happen, even though it already has. thinking her last thoughts while emptiness consumed her and death took over her final breaths of her purity before getting snatched down into the underworld, she wondered if Ron would consider her "unlucky' if she did die, or would he change it to something else? maybe like-

"hermione" harry called out which made her skin jump, hearing her own name in the mouths of others still sent chills down her spine, like her name was rotting their mouths away, like she wasn't supposed to be there "could you go and count the bodies and the end of the hill over there? and Ron can yo-" by then hermione was already zoning out as she began walking towards the hill, not even hearing what harry had told Ron to do, almost as if he is a child seeking guidance and not his own person, counting the bodies was the least favourite part. even seeing bodies of the people from the dark side even make her feel bad, after all they were someones babies, they probably have their only families who are waiting up for them, just to get the news that they'll never come back home, and the way they'll have to bury the body of their loved one with half their face torn off like it was some kind of melted plastic on a hot summers day.

even the thought of all the funerals she will have to go to as a sign of respect will haunt her, hearing that the people who she trained with, talked to, even maybe liked was someone completely different that what hermione thought, they had feelings besides from hate, unlike her mood over the past two years, filled with rage and hate because the only thing she wanted was freedom, to run in an empty field and not have to worry if there is death eaters round the block from her.

as she began counting she realised a shinny object round one of the bodies necks, not that she could tell who the body belonged to as the face was also torn of and melted by whatever spell was thrown at them.

"A timer turner" she whispered to herself, she had only ever encountered these once and that was only in 3rd year when she had to save Sirius from getting killed, which was indeed a massive responsibly on her behalf that she had to do when she was only 13 years old, she jumped when she heard soft footsteps behind her as she shoved the timer turner into her pocket.

"how many Hermione?" said harry, clearly trying to calculate Rons number to his like it was some massive number.

"only 12" she said, her voice only coming out as a whisper instead of her normal voice, never in her life would she say "only 12" as if it was a low number compared to the thoughts of millions in her head, in that moment she releasd that she had been trained for this her whole life, so it wasn't that her voice that ended up in a whisper, it was the fact she said it without hesitation that stroke her hard.

"I think you should rest hermione" said Ron as he came behind harry, voice more concerned that it has been in the last two years.

"yeah, ill go back inside" she said while walking past the two ignoring how Ron and harry threw each other confused glances, forgetting the fact they fought a war under 24 hours ago, forgetting how they are standing in the same courtyard where they all watched Voldemort turn into dust, like he was never there to begin with, that the last 7 school years never happened, like all the planning and secret missions that she actually found rather enjoyable the more she comes to terms with it, is all over.

"I never thought he would turn out like this, honestly!" slug horn says to her and a few others, sitting in a circle in the now rather damaged great hall with cups of tea and coffee like it was a granny's meeting, with the sound of chatter ringing in her ears happy chatter for once  "I promise you he was the most charming sweetest boy ever!" slug horn has been trying to defend himself monstrously. acting like he didn't teach Voldemort about horcruxs and ruin her, harry and Rons last few years a Hogwarts, "charming" slug horn used pretending as if he was still talking about the same 16 year old boy 50 years ago as if he didn't fight him 16 hours ago in cold blood. 

as much as she would love to chit chat with the circle of people she is involved in trying to give slug horn false hope that it wasn't actually his fault, and that Voldemort was born evil, which couldn't be less from the truth as Hermione studied him while on the run, she even memorised a timeline of where things go wrong, starting from the orphanage. she was still feeling around her pocket of the time turner she found wondering why someone mid battle would have it wrapped around their neck, unless they were from the past, over future even, maybe that could be one of the reasons why she didn't recognise it, despite the face being melted of onto another persons body.

"slug horn" she said, rather more bitterly then she meant it too sound, but it got his attention anyway.

"yes my dear child" he said rather pleased that someone like Hermione said his name, as she did defeat, or help defeat in fairness to Harry, his golden boy and turned him in to dust in mere minutes. 

"charming? you say when describing tom, how so?" Hermione questioned.

"well my dear! he always was top of the class, answered many questions and even made head boy! and sometimes even brought me my favourite sweets from time to time, especially at my slug club and-'

"was he really that charming? or did you just think of him the son you never had?" ginny Weasley intervened with a great tone of honesty, trying to get slug horn out of his obsessive gaze and love for Voldemort, or so to speak, tom riddle.

'"well my dear-"

"or did you think he was better than other people in your class and favoured him?" ginny stated again before slug horn could even finsh

"it wasn't about if he was better my dear-" slug horn said trying to clear up the allegations

"well am happy at his death" Dean Thomas intervened "Voldemort and tom riddle" he said proudly as other students in the circle agreed with his statement as slug horn sighed and sipped his tea more

"well I believe that something must have happened to tom for him to turn bad, I mean no one wakes up one day and thinks "am going to take over the world" something or an opinion must have changed" Hermione said, silencing the small chit chat between other students as the circle of eyes turned to her

"well my dear, I knew tom since second year, I knew if something would've shifted in my boy" slug horn states with a soft chuckle, like he's talking about his very own son or an old distance friend. disgusting "but nothing did. he was the same old tom every lesson. nothing changed" he said after a long pause, like the answer would show it self infront of everyone like a mirrorball projecting light across the rather damaged hall

"not even his facial expressions? harry told me once his face was always natural, like resting no?" she said matter of factually, like everyone around her knew what she knew, but the problem was no one did, some people came in to this battle with nothing but a square for a brain in their head despite all the training they got put through for nearly over a couple of months, no one around her knows as much as she does, not even harry. the chosen one

"nothing my dear, he was talented that way" he said with a slight laugh to the edge of it, even though nothings funny, nothing about this was ever funny. it was all slug horns fault and here he is laughing away.

as hermione moved along groups of people asking if they were alright, making sure they were healed, and if they have a place to stay or shelter, her mind wandered to her parents, she knows that they aren't harmed but she wonders if their life is better without Hermione in it, her and her mind games to protect her parents still left a scar along her heart, not a visible ones like the ones on her thighs or the ones on her back, or the "mudblood" carved into her arm like it belongs there, she's considered leaving her parents memory blank, like she never exsited . it left small cuts in her soul every time she saw a kid with their parents walking around London while she was stuck undercover, making small talk with strangers trying to find out where they were, wasn't hard she must admit. She became rather good at it within the last two years, haven't to meet new people every weak to get answers for her questions or theories made her more open to small talk

when she got back to the Weasleys that night, -where she was staying temporarily because she was going to buy her parents old house once the landlord comes back to her- she pulled out the time turner, running her fingers along the gold circle in the middle, careful not to accidently spin it. she began thinking of Fred, Remus, Tonks, even Lavender crosses her mind, what if they didn't have to die? what is she just used the time tun-

"dinners ready, come down" Ron said as he bashed into her room, well not her room technically. it was a spare room after all, scaring the life out of her as she jumped the she heard his voice

"Ron! I could've been changing! do you know how to knock!?" Hermione said frustrated as her heart beat went back to normal, her head pounding

"I would have not minded walking in on that" Ron said cheekily as he rested his body against the door frame, a sly smirk forming onto his face as she got a bit flustered, the "Weasley smirk" she called it

she put the time turner into the drawer and she stood up for the chair in front of the desk, "honestly Ron!" she said as she walked past him jotting down the stairs as she could smell a lovely roast that mrs Weasley had prepared for them all as a "victory feast" even though were missing something. or someone.

whenever she got to the table she sat in-between harry and George and  muttered in small talk to ginny who was across the table from her, just about boys, books, and even some of the peoples deaths that they witnessed as the ate

"I happen to think slug horns going mad" ginny stated after a moment of silence, making Ron laugh

"is this because of what he said about tom riddle! he's a biased fruit after all! what do you expect?" Ron said laughing while getting grins of mr Weasley

"I think ginny has a point" harry said, "I mean, me and Dumbledore did see him hiding as a couch after all" harry said seriously, losing all humor that the table held before, only to be replaced by moments of silence while everyone thought and ate

"I wonder what tom riddle was actually like, I mean slug horn looks like he was caught in a trance talking about "his boy"  said Hermione curiously, getting glances from harry and mrs Weasley

"in the chamber of secrets" harry started, while ginny glared at him threating him to not say anymore, if looks could kill, ginny Weasley would be more of a threat than Voldemort had ever been, Voldemort himself would even be shaking in fear!

"that's enough" said mrs Weasley calmly, "its all over" she said again, looking at the spare chair where Fred would've sat while George sighed

Hermione ate all her food and said her thank yous and goodnights and headed up to her room, where she pulled out the drawer and took the timer turner in her hands and fell into bed, she let out a sigh, from all the stress that had been building up for the last while because of the war, of all the stress of everyone else's stress thrown onto her like she's meant to juggle it all out, the hours go by until it reaches midnight, by then hermione already thought of going back in time to tom riddles days at school, just as an observer, to see what went wrong. was it the knights? was it his own planning? will he come back?  was he really gone? she decided shed go back in time, for only a month and come back and everything will be the same, as like she never left, she stood up from her bed, making the floorboards creak and wrapped the shiny gold metal around her neck

"it should only be 108 turns" she said as she whispered to herself, on the last turn when she realises what she's about to do, on the last turn she lets out a sigh 

"108"