Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
-W.B. Yeats, The Second Coming
We should have known when Dumbledore died...we never stood a chance.
The moon was full, but Hermione could barely see it behind the rolling clouds. She could smell rain on the air, as heavy and as inevitable as the grief weighing on her troubled mind. She thought back to her late headmaster's funeral and how different it was from this small, clandestine group surrounding what would be an unmarked grave. No one spoke. There was nothing to say.
She moved her way to the front and forced herself to look down on the body. Oh, Harry...how could you have known? Tears began to stream again, useless, hopeless. The prophecy had been fulfilled, but it had turned out to be as meaningless as her tears. The war had come fast and furious on the heels of Dumbledore's murder. Leaderless and unprepared, half their ranks had turned and run. The rest were quickly destroyed by the skill and experience of the Death Eaters. So many dead...Ron had been one of the first, bravely but stupidly volunteering to be on the front lines. Harry had wanted to go with him, but more sensible minds (hers included) had talked him out of it. He was their only chance at survival, and too valuble to lose. Eventually, that fortold final showdown had come. Hermione had not been there, but she know the story as well as everyone else did. Harry and Voldemort had dueled fiercely, curses and countercurses flying. And the outcome both sides had been holding their breath for? Eventually (no one was quite sure how), the same curse had been cast at the same time by both parties. A flash of light, a surge of power...and two dead bodies. What happens when figureheads cancel each other out?
Hermione shook her head slowly. He hadn't been a figurehead, not to her. Harry was her best friend, had been since the very first year of school. They had been through so much together, supporting and shaping each other throughout the years. Once, she might even have loved him. No more...it was all gone. Hogwarts had gone up in flames. Her friends and her hopes were dead. The world was covered in darkness, and Hermione was left alone to find her way through.
When the news of Voldemort's death spread, the first reaction was joy. The Dark Lord had been defeated...if it wasn't exactly a victory, at least it could be an end. The slaughter would be over, and they could all start rebuilding. If only they had been so lucky...
They had all been taken in by a brilliant plan. Voldemort was not the leader of the Death Eaters at all. He had been, once, and the world was led to believe it was still so. The Dark Lord bowed to now, however, was someone entirely different, someone Hermione had actually defended in her Hogwarts years. Someone she now hated with every fiber of her being.
Severus Snape.