The sudden explosion and the surge of magic in the air made every wizard in Hogsmeade stop what they were doing.
They weren’t Muggles—they knew it wasn’t caused by gunpowder.
As wizards, they immediately recognized it as the result of an offensive spell.
However, even in this all-wizard village, it was unheard of for a spell of such power to cause an explosion this large.
At least, not since the Dark Lord’s defeat.
And certainly not at such a sensitive time...
...
“Go check it out. Find out what’s going on.”
“Yes, Minister!”
By coincidence—or perhaps not—the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, happened to be at the Three Broomsticks that day.
Sharing his table were Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. From the lingering smiles and the faint flush on their faces, it was clear their conversation had been pleasant just moments before.
Now, however, their expressions had turned grim, all traces of mirth gone...
“We should go too. I’m worried about our students.”
“Yes, I don’t feel at ease either.”
As Cornelius gave orders to the Aurors assigned to protect him, Minerva McGonagall grew increasingly anxious at the thought of her students outside. Hagrid nodded firmly beside her in agreement.
At that moment, the Head of the Auror Office—Rufus Scrimgeour—stepped forward and delivered startling news.
“Minister, my men just received word. The Dementors have detected Sirius Black’s presence nearby, so they all mobilized not long ago.”
“What did you say? Sirius Black has been spotted?”
“Wait—then those Dementors… Listen, there are students here! Don’t let those damned creatures enter the village!”
Minerva McGonagall’s voice rose in alarm as she grasped the situation, her tone sharp and urgent.
Hagrid glared at the flustered Cornelius Fudge, his anger matching McGonagall’s.
“Calm down. I won’t let any harm come to the students. You have my word.”
“Minister, there’s no need to worry. The Dementors’ target isn’t the students, and my men have already been dispatched,” Scrimgeour said evenly.
Unlike the uneasy Fudge, the Auror Chief’s voice was steady, his face expressionless, purely professional—a sharp contrast to the rattled Minister beside him...
“Tch. I’ll be sure to report this to Dumbledore. For now, we need to get the students out of here. Come on, Hagrid.”
“Hmph. Dumbledore would never approve of this.”
“.....”
Watching the two leave—Dumbledore’s name still on their lips—Cornelius Fudge’s forced smile vanished. His face darkened, teetering on the edge of anger.
“Dumbledore… again.”
Boom!
The Shrieking Shack.
That was where the explosion had come from—the very place Draco had just been.
He never imagined that mere minutes after leaving, something like this would happen.
But...
“You seem to know what happened?”
As he spoke, Draco’s gaze drifted briefly toward Hermione’s chest—or rather, to something hidden beneath her robes.
Realizing where he was looking, Hermione’s face flushed. She glared at him, both embarrassed and irritated.
“I need your help. We... we’ve run into the enemy.”
“The enemy?”
“That Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black.”
“Huh?”
Pansy, who had finally caught up, muttered suspiciously.
Never mind whatever strange story this was—why would Sirius Black show up here of all places?
But when she saw the genuine urgency on Hermione’s face, Pansy swallowed her doubts.
Just then, the explosions grew closer...
“Get them out of here. I’ll explain later—hurry, Draco!”
Draco, now more or less certain of what was going on, frowned and gestured sharply for Pansy and the others to stop.
Goyle and Crabbe halted at once, but Pansy hesitated only a moment before gritting her teeth and following after.
“You’re not leaving me behind this time.”
“Pfft.”
The two girls exchanged a glare, and Hermione reluctantly gave up on trying to drive Pansy away.
There simply wasn’t time...
...
The Time-Turner.
At first glance, it was nothing more than a small, glowing hourglass—but its value was beyond imagination.
It was a magical device capable of turning back time.
A single rotation could send the user one hour into the past.
Such an artifact, one that tampered with the laws of time itself, was both terrifying and forbidden.
Because of this, Time-Turners were strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic and forbidden for private use.
Still, under the right circumstances, they could serve incredible purposes—whether for major magical experiments or the testing of dangerous spells.
With a Time-Turner, one could return to the past, change the outcome, or even prevent failure altogether.
But first, one had to receive official permission to use it.
Its use must be for academic purposes only.
You must never attempt to alter history.
And you must never reveal yourself to your past self.
Clearly, Hermione—who had used one—was no longer following those rules...
When they finally stopped and ducked behind a tree, catching their breath, Pansy suddenly widened her eyes.
“Is that... Potter and Weasley? Wait—two Grangers?!”
Draco, who had been with Hermione from the very beginning, knew one thing for sure:
The Hermione beside him hadn’t had a single moment to drink Polyjuice Potion.
So the Hermione Granger standing with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley...
Was she the real one?
Or a fake...