A Time-Turner... that was hardly the kind of travel Draco Malfoy preferred.
This way of travelling was very uncomfortable.
First, you felt yourself flying backwards very quickly. Then, various blurred cloud shapes flashed before your eyes; at the same time, it felt as though tiny hammers were pounding in your ears, and you could not hear your own voice at all... shouting, talking, gasping for breath... nothing.
Finally, just as you tried to endure all of this, you began to doubt whether your feet would ever touch the ground again.
Then, suddenly, Draco found himself standing on the very same spot in the Hospital Wing.
Everything was as it had been before.
However, the light around them had grown much brighter than before; Ron, who had been staring in disbelief while clutching his injured leg, had also vanished from the bed in front of him.
"Half past seven? Where were we at half past seven?" Hermione asked Harry anxiously as soon as they stopped. She put the Time-Turner away.
"Hagrid's hut, I suppose..." Harry said, still bewildered by the strange turn of events.
"Let us go, quickly!" Hermione said urgently, and took the lead, running. The two bemused boys exchanged a glance, and with no time to speak, could only follow Hermione down the deserted corridor.
"Hermione," Harry said breathlessly, "do you not have some explaining to do?"
So Hermione explained as she ran, "At the start of last term, Professor McGonagall gave me a Time-Turner. I can go back in time. That is how I have been taking so many classes at once..."
"So, we have gone back in time?" Harry suddenly realised.
"Yes!" Hermione said succinctly, panting slightly as she peered round the corridor wall.
Outside stood that enormous boulder.
Draco followed her, tilting his head to look, and just then saw another Hermione punching another version of himself; the others gasped in surprise.
"Oh, I must say, that was a rather powerful punch," Draco said softly, never having expected to witness himself being beaten as a bystander. "My nose still hurts a little."
Hermione suddenly blushed.
Half shy and half annoyed, she raised her chin, refusing to meet his eye, and said haughtily, "Thank you for the compliment."
This scene brought back some unpleasant memories for her.
Hermione suddenly realised she was still angry about all of it, even though she was not sure whom she ought to be angry at.
How had she forgotten all that and grown close to Draco again?
She should not act as though nothing had happened and simply carry on as if all were well between them.
They had clearly gone through such a humiliating scene. Her heart had clearly been torn to shreds by him. Her dignity had clearly been trampled underfoot. How could she forget all of that in the blink of an eye?
In fact, the other version of herself had only just punched him; how could she act as though it had never happened?
Hermione was certain she needed a haughty expression to protect what remained of her self-esteem.
She needed to take a firmer stance. She could not be too gentle with Draco straight away, or she would lose all her dignity.
Hermione glanced furtively at the boy beside her, who was trying to smile at her, then kept telling herself to keep a straight face.
However, Hermione did want to retrieve the ring she had angrily thrown away.
Even though he did not like her, and she was deeply hurt by it, she still wanted him back.
A moment later, the three of them, hidden behind the wall, saw Draco hurriedly run down the corridor, clutching his bleeding nose, saying to Crabbe and Goyle in a dishevelled but fierce manner, "Do not follow me!"
This time, it was Draco's turn to feel his face burning. He gave Hermione an awkward smile, but did not receive her usual response.
She looked extremely serious, her eyes flickering, and he could not tell what she was thinking.
When the corridor fell silent again, Hermione suddenly stood up, ran straight to the boulder, and crouched down to pick something up. In the fading light, Draco recognised it as a silver ring.
Merlin's beard!
Draco suddenly understood everything... why he had not been able to find the ring earlier, and why the Tracking Charm had pointed towards the Forbidden Forest.
Because when the first Hermione had come to retrieve the ring, it had already been picked up by the second Hermione and carried off towards the Forbidden Forest, further along in the same timeline.
This bizarre logic made him dizzy; he felt as though he were walking into some sort of paradox.
"Now, where should we go?" Hermione carefully slipped the silver ring between her fingers, her face remaining calm and composed, as though it were no great matter.
She still did not look at Draco, but kept her head down, staring blankly at the ring.
"Let us go back the way we came. See if we can catch Peter Pettigrew." After a moment's thought, Draco said this to the top of her brown head.
Since the ring will end up pointing towards the Forbidden Forest later, let us follow it and head that way now.
"I agree," Harry finally spoke up between them. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of hope and hatred as he resolved to seize the chance to catch the rat and avenge his parents and his godfather.
So they ran down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's hut and crouched behind a pile of huge, nearly ripe pumpkins.
Through the open window of Hagrid's hut, Draco saw the three of them sitting in chairs drinking tea, while Hermione kept rubbing her eyes, as though she had been crying.
"You... you were crying then?" Draco suddenly turned to look at Hermione.
"She cried for a long time..." Harry could not help saying to Draco, in a slightly reproachful tone, "and we spent ages comforting her."
"I am sorry." Draco pursed his lips, staring at Hermione's face for a moment, a look of regret on his own.
"Oh, it is nothing. Just... being silly." Hermione still did not meet his gaze, instead watching intently what was happening in Hagrid's hut from behind the enormous pumpkin.
She did not want to appear weak and helpless. Even if he thought of her as a sister, it was no great matter. The last thing she needed now was this pointless apology, Hermione thought crossly.
The most important thing now was to catch Peter Pettigrew, rather than wasting time wallowing in this hopeless, unspoken love.
Hermione could sense that the boy beside her was somewhat uneasy.
He seemed to want her attention.
However, she no longer wished to give it to him.
If paying him any attention would only bring her endless pain, why should she bother?
Why should I pay any attention to this innocent-looking, charming, effortlessly likeable boy?
Hermione cried out inwardly, her face tense, as though trying to find the answer to this question through the open window.