Newton and Nietzsche agree: for every stare into the abyss, there is an equal and opposite stare out of the abyss.

-unknown

—————————————-

The first thing I could hear was the howling wind rushing past me. I took a deep breath, feeling cold salty air fill my lungs. It felt like I was at a beach. I couldn't be.... Could I? My head was pounding, Tom's scream of rage still ringing in my head. I didn't want to open my eyes. Kreacher start to talk, and as his croaky voice reached me I didn't want to think, to register anything besides the cold wind in my hair. The sound of crashing waves. I didn't dare believe we had even made it back to the future at all. It was like this was all a dream. It couldn't be real. Good things hadn't happened to me in months and now I was back in the future? This couldn't be right.

"Mistress Granger looks sick." Kreacher said. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, I just feel a bit nauseous." I lied. It was too much to explain what happened before in the Slytherin bathroom.

Was I dreaming? With my eyes tightly shut I pinched my arm. The stinging wounds from where I cut myself had come free of their bandages, now exposed they stung with the salty wind lashing at us. This was real life. This was it. I was finally where I belonged. I was back.

"We made it, Kreacher." I said numbly. "We made it."

"Yes Mistress Granger. We are here. Shell Cottage is only a short walk ahead. Are you okay to walk or should Kreacher get someone out to help you?"

"No, I'll be fine to walk."

Finally, I opened my eyes. We were standing directly in front of Dobby's grave on the outskirts of the coastline looking out to the vast sea and the small cottage where Bill and Fleur lived. The exact place that Harry, Ron and I had stayed with the traitorous goblin Griphook where we had plotted how to break into Gringotts and steal a Horcrux. Before Tom, now Voldemort, had recently killed Harry in cold blood.

"I'm fine," I continued. "Kreacher you go ahead. I'll meet you at the cottage."

"Kreacher knows Hermione is not okay."

I started to cry. I couldn't stop the tears flowing out, and Kreacher, thinking it best to leave me be, told me shortly that he'd be at Shell Cottage where Ginny was waiting for me. He told me Ron didn't know where I was. Ginny was the only one that knew, and Bill and Fleur.

"Kreacher will be waiting in the cottage for Mistress with a hot meal of lamb roast with potatoes and mint sauce ready for dinner."

"Thank you..."

Giving me a low bow, almost like a spasm, he disapparated with a crack. Id never known Kreacher to be so kind to someone he considered a Mudblood, and thinking about it made me remember Tom and his ruthless attempts to break me. It was the name to make me break down, I fell on the sand, on my knees. The cold wind lashed at my skin, dragging my loose curls free from their braid. Tom had demented me, and being back in the future made me realise just how much damage he had really caused. I felt broken inside, drained of energy. The chipped stone that marked Dobby's grave stood before me, still and distinctly more beaten down from when I saw it last. Sniffing, I pulled my wand out of my cloak and conjured a fresh wreath of roses. They were beautifully coloured, purple, pink and deep blue.

"Here lies Dobby, a Free Elf."

I murmured. Gently I layed the flowers against the stone, grabbing a couple of smaller rocks I used them as weights, making sure the wreath stayed in place.

Dobby was brave. He endured abuse for a lot of his life and rose against it in the end. I realised. He rebelled.

I got to my feet. My arms were killing me. Tom didn't exactly heal my wounds, with only slight movement my right wrist began dripping with blood again, crimson droplets hitting the pure white sand like ink blotches on parchment.

I began to walk.

It didn't take me long to reach the cottage. I didn't bother cleaning my arm up. I felt sick, my head was pounding, putting a bandage on my wrist or even using Dittany seemed like a proper mission in my current state of mind. I leant against the front door of Shell Cottage and pushed the front door open with my shoulder. The howling wind whipped around me, it wasn't until I closed the door firmly behind me that it stopped. The smell of lamb roast was thick, I looked around to see no one in the kitchen or the adjoining dining room.

"Where is everyone?" I wondered outloud.

"Bill and Fleur have gone to get some wood for the fire." Kreacher came out from around the corner, wearing a small white chefs apron. "They advised Kreature to tell you they will not be far away. The blood traitor- the sister of Master Weasley.... Ginny..... is upstairs preparing the guests room for you. Have your meal, while it's hot."

I walked over and down at the dinner table, my vision splintering into stars. My head was throbbing along with the wound on my wrist.

"I think I'm going to be sick." I could hear myself saying as if from a distance. "Please can you put my food in the oven?"

"Of course. Mistress Granger needs to lay down, she has sustained a bad injury to her wrist."

I put my head in my hands, trying to ease the discomfort. I could feel myself starting to fade out fast. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I stood up, feeling queasy, and stumbled over to the couch.

"Hermione!" Ginny entered the room, starting when she saw me. She was wearing a red tank top and jeans, her long red hair long and messier than I've ever seen it. She looked unwell. I didn't blame her. She'd just lost Harry. We all had lost Harry.

"What happened to your wrist? Did you get splinched?" She asked.

I lay down on the couch. "Yes." I lied. I didn't want to worry Ginny by telling her everything now. We had time. I could tell her later. Right now I just wanted to sleep.

I closed my eyes, hearing Ginny talking to Kreacher and feeling as she took my wrist and placed it in a plate of what I assumed to be Murtlap Essence. The pain died instantly. She threw a blanket over me and propped my head beneath a soft pillow, feeling my forehead with one soft hand.

"Where's your Time Turner?" She asked with urgency. "I can't find it in your bag. Did you give it to Kreacher?"

"Tom Riddle has it." I said heavily. "He stole it from me."

I opened my eyes to see Ginny's horrified face. "That's bad." She said finally. "If he has your Time Turner he can use it to track where you have gone. Magic leaves traces...."

I swallowed, trying not to feel the weight of what she just said. Tom could use my Time Turner and come and find me in the future. Knowing Tom, I figured this time he wasn't going to just punish me. He'd probably kill me.

I closed my eyes, the sound of the crashing waves outside was making me tired.

"Get some rest," Ginny said gently. "And don't worry. You've come this far, and now you're safe. This house has been cast with dozens of protective enchantments since the Death Eaters have been going rampant after Voldemort's win. It's been chaos. Well, everywhere except for here."

"How's Ron?" I said weakly.

"Ron.... Well, I had to modify his memory to forget you had gone to the past. He didn't know where you'd gone, you see. He wasn't right at all. He was drinking, going sort of crazy. I had to do something."

"That's ok." I said. "It's fine..." I blinked rapidly, fresh tears springing to my eyes.

"He's fine." Ginny told me. "We are looking out for him. And when you finish your mission we will modify him back to normal."

"That's.... good."

The darkness was eclipsing me again. I fell into sleep, lulled off and away by the crashing sound of waves.