A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts - Chapter 477: Repairing the Time Turner

“Don’t worry, Hermione. Hedwig will send the letter to your parents on time,” Harry assured confidently. “She’s never failed before—plus, Professor McGonagall said they’ll arrange for a professor to pick them up on the day of the match. It won’t delay anything.”

“I’m not worried about that… I, sigh,” Hermione sighed, “they mentioned in their letter that they went to Diagon Alley, saying they were exchanging money—”

“That’s pretty normal,” Ron interjected.

“You don’t understand them,” Hermione impatiently shook her head, “exchanging money is just an excuse. I bet they’re actually there to gather information about the tournament.”

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. They didn’t share Hermione’s concern. Ron’s whole family were wizards, and as for Harry, he didn’t believe the Dursleys would sneak into Diagon Alley worrying about his safety; they’d just hope he’d never come back. Besides, in Harry’s eyes, Sirius was his only real family.

“You can’t avoid these things,” Ron comforted her, “they’ll find out sooner or later—”

“No, you both don’t get it,” Hermione took a deep breath, “is there any more direct information in Diagon Alley than the merchandise sold by ‘Future World’ about the tournament? I can imagine my dad impulsively buying a magic projector and footage of the second task. Maybe they’ve seen it already and just didn’t tell me!”

They arrived at the Transfiguration classroom Professor McGonagall had lent them, ready to practice spells, especially those that might be useful in the maze. That’s how they’d spent the past month. But today, Hermione was completely off her game.

“I can’t focus, not at all,” she said in frustration.

“Take a break for a bit,” Harry suggested, “we’re well-prepared already, no need to stress these last two days.”

Normally, Hermione would vehemently oppose, but today she agreed with Harry, sitting on the cushion, looking utterly helpless.

Harry and Ron didn’t know how to comfort her. They stood silently for a while. Harry pulled out the magic book from his bag, having read it cover to cover. The professor mentioned it had a very slight impact on him, the magic inside lasting a few months at best, so he might as well keep it as a memento.

“Do you think it’s because of this book?” Ron leaned in, whispering, “Hermione’s read it too, hasn’t she?”

“That was last week,” Harry replied in the same hushed tone, dismissing the book’s influence, “magic effects wouldn’t last this long.”

“You have a point,” Ron said, taking out his magical notes, occasionally glancing at Hermione in the distance. He deliberately raised his voice, “No matter how many times I read this, it’s still so scary… I wonder if Hermione, in her third year, would still dare to use a Time Turner if she’d read these stories…”

Hermione suddenly stood up, taking a few deep breaths, grabbing her bag.

“You’re right, I should find something to do,” she said before walking out of the classroom.

Ron hesitated for a moment, turning to Harry. “Did I say something wrong?” Harry shook his head. They followed Hermione to the Room of Requirement. “I need an alchemist’s lab… I need an alchemist’s lab… I need an alchemist’s lab…” she repeated.

A rustic door appeared before them.

Hermione exhaled slowly, pushing the door open, prompting Harry and Ron to guess her intentions. “I was waiting for this,” Ron muttered, and they followed her inside.

The room was spacious, with several large workbenches in the center holding various peculiar contraptions, odd-shaped glass bottles, casually placed wooden toolboxes, golden scales, weights, crucibles… Two bookshelves were affixed to the walls, filled with common alchemical texts.

Hermione dropped her bag, took out the Time Turner, glanced at Harry, who promptly handed her the hazy hourglass.

“Are you planning to fix it now?” Ron couldn’t help asking. “I thought we had another month or so.”

“No need to delay,” Hermione replied calmly. “It’s not exactly fixing, just dismantling it and replacing a part… with Nicholas Flamel’s successful experience, I’m quite confident.”

“Let’s hope it’s as simple as she says,” Ron hoped optimistically.

Harry had expected screwdrivers or something at most, maybe one that screws itself… but Hermione only held her wand, reciting lengthy incantations, tapping the golden timer occasionally, or tracing magical runes and alchemical symbols, branding them onto the hourglass. Sweat glistened on Hermione’s forehead, her expression intense. Harry and Ron dared not even breathe, afraid of disturbing her.

After about an hour, Hermione was visibly fatigued, but her eyes were bright.

“Quick, Harry, Ron, lend me a hand.”

“What do you need?” Harry hurriedly asked as they approached the Time Turner—this thing was flying in mid-air, spinning endlessly while emitting a soft white light.

“Grab it, take the original hourglass off, and replace it with the flat-headed one! Hurry!” Hermione commanded, her face flushed, straining to maintain the magic.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, reaching out cautiously. Harry grabbed the spinning timer, like catching a dizzying golden thief, while Ron tried to pry open the circular hourglass inside. “I can’t get it off!” Ron shouted.

“Then put in more effort!” Harry grimaced, the thing was surprisingly strong, desperately trying to break free from his grip.

Gritting his teeth, Ron used both hands, applying force—*click*—the hourglass came off successfully.

Harry immediately grabbed the hazy hourglass with his other hand, found the right spot, and fitted it into the slot. “Done!” Then, a sudden shockwave erupted from the center of the golden timer, throwing all three of them off.

Harry winced, sitting up, his arm having hit the sharp edge of the workbench; he suspected it might be broken. Then, he heard two gasps. Lifting his head from his arm, Ron and Hermione were gaping in the same direction. He turned, equally astonished.

The Time Turner hung mid-air, emitting a dazzling golden light. Harry squinted and could clearly see the hazy surface of the hourglass, as if an invisible hand had wiped it clean, restoring its shine. The substance inside—the dark gold clumps—kept melting, twisting, and transforming while emitting a beautiful metallic gleam.

After who knew how long, all the golden light vanished. The Time Turner dropped to the ground, rolling a couple of times, motionless.

“We did it?” Ron couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, luckily we did,” Hermione grinned. “If it had failed, we’d have spent the whole night searching for scattered parts.”

After resting for half an hour, they left the Room of Requirement. It was already midnight, and they carefully made their way back to the common room. Before going to their respective dorms, Ron still looked amazed. “Incredible… we repaired a complete Time Turner. When can we try it?”

“Not now,” Hermione said.

“I know. I mean, after the tournament, Hermione. I’ve never experienced this

feeling!” Ron pleaded.

A moment of silence.

“Alright,” Hermione hesitated, “it’s not that I’m stopping you; it’s just there might be risks. You’ve seen the fate of wizards trapped by ‘time,’ right? It’s better to have the professor check it over.”

Ron was convinced, with one request.

“Just don’t tell Professor McGonagall. If she knows we have an uncontrolled Time Turner, she’ll definitely confiscate it!”

“We can ask Professor Snape for help,” Harry chimed in, thinking Ron’s idea was quite reasonable. In fact, apart from Professor Snape, he couldn’t think of any other adult who would permit them to have a Time Turner.

…

On the morning of June 23rd, Felix finished invigilating the final exam of the year, returning to his office looking relaxed. Valen was sitting on the desk, sniffing aimlessly. It held a postcard and when Felix entered, Valen lifted its head, staring at him with curious, shiny eyes.

“Squeak! (Familiar scent!)”

>

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