War ends in bloodshed.
The thunder sounded.
Rain poured.
And a lonely girl sat atop the astronomy tower.
Wind whipping her face, hair flying, lightening flashing.
And still she cried.
"You stupid Mudblood! Watch where you're going!"
"Sod off Malfoy, you're not even worth it anymore."
"Fuck it Granger! You think you're so perfect with your fucking perfect life and perfect friends. Wake up and smell the fucking roses! The thorns on your roses are pricking people Granger, your "perfect" roses are mixing blood with mud. Like you."
"What the hell is this about Malfoy?! Get off the drugs!"
"Your precious 'Order' killed my fucking Mother! They left her in the rain, in the mud, bleeding to death! War isn't going to end in roses Granger, it ends in blood, and your side is shedding innocent blood."
She looked at her arm.
Covered with scars.
Cuts.
Attempts to take her life.
Failed attempts.
She hated failure.
She picked up a razor, and with a quick motion sliced her palm open.
Pressing it against the paper of her note, she noticed it turned a brownish shade.
Still blood, but still not perfect.
Hermione Granger choked back one last sob.
So much death, so much destruction.
So much loss.
Damn war.
Damn fucking war.
There was no-one left to fight for.
Perfection was a lie.
Let the purebloods have their perfect blood, she thought bitterly, let them live their lie.
Then she jumped.
The ground was rushing towards her at an alarming rate, her robes flying backwards, but not stopping her progress.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
Freedom, she could smell it
With a sickening crack she hit the ground.
Mud, meeting mud.