Start 3-1-13 at 1104pm

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters – they belong to JK Rowling.

My house has no internet, I haven't been able to upload for any of my stories in too long, I'm staying at my cousin's house without my laptop, and not being able to write is driving me insane… so I thought up this little plot. I don't know what my mind was thinking, but I'm quite proud of it.

Warning – might give you chills!

The long laced black train trailed behind her as she made her way through the open field. Holding her wand in one wand hand, ready to curse anyone she ran into, Bellatrix Lestrange walked through the field, enjoying the sound of the furious river as it crashed against the slimy boulders and the bank surrounding it. The Dark Lord was furious, like he always was, and Bellatrix left her sister's manor so she could get some air. Most people didn't know it but ever since being released from Azkaban, Bellatrix loved to inhale the fresh grass scent as much as she could. She wasn't stupid, she knew the Dark Lord wouldn't win this war, and she knew she would be killed fighting for a cause that she truly believed in but knew would end soon, so she wanted to enjoy the fresh air for as long as she could. Long black curls flew around her, painting the picture of a mad woman running against the wind. Hearing a crunching sound as she stepped on something, Bellatrix stopped walking and looked down. Wiping crushed glass off the bottom of her boot on the damp dirt, Bellatrix noticed a piece of parchment amidst the broken glass. It seemed like she stepped on a bottle.

"The hell?"

Bending forward, and shaking the broken glass off of the parchment, Bellatrix realized that it wasn't like any paper she's ever written on before. This was the same type of paper that her idiot cousin used to write on for his muggle studies class. Annoyed that she was touching a muggle product, Bellatrix answered the nudging feeling in the back of her mind. Unfolding the wrinkled paper, Bellatrix frowned as she read the words.

Sometimes I just want to give up

That was it. Just seven words written on a piece of muggle parchment. Just seven words that had nothing to do with Bellatrix, but something tugged at her. It didn't feel right. The handwriting was something similar to a child's handwriting. It was innocent and broken. Pressing the muggle parchment to her nose, Bellatrix inhaled deeply and her frown deepened. Tears – she could smell tears. Tucking the note deep into her cleavage, Bellatrix apparated out of the field with a loud pop.

Ignoring everyone as they asked her if everything was alright, Bellatrix shouted at her idiot nephew that she didn't want to be bothered for the rest of the day. Locking herself in the dark depths of her large bedroom, Bellatrix sat at her desk. Placing the muggle parchment in front of her, she dipped her quill into her inkpot and started to write on a fresh piece of parchment.

Giving up is not acceptable

Not truly understanding what was causing her to do it, Bellatrix called to her raven. The large black bird pecked at her finger affectionately as she tied the reply to its talon, ordering it to deliver the piece of parchment to whoever wrote the first note. The raven gave a screech in response then quickly soared out of the window.

Bellatrix couldn't understand it. The note belonged to a bloody muggle! They were probably giving up on life, something that she should be celebrating right now, but it annoyed Bellatrix. For some reason the idea of this young muggle giving up on life affected her. For reasons unknown she couldn't bear the thought of this strange muggle giving up on life. Bellatrix had never liked muggles. She was raised up to believe that a muggle's life was meant to be short, and she had always deeply believed in that belief. But for some despicable reason she was responding to a muggle and telling them not to give up.

Bellatrix didn't understand it, but she quite liked it. She liked this strange feeling of telling a muggle to not give up.

For the first time in her life Bellatrix did something honorable, and it gave her some sort of disgusting joy. It was as if this one act reminded her that she was human – that underneath her sadistic personality she did have something humane about her.

She wasn't completely empty.

…

Hermione sat on her bed, staring at the picture of her, Harry, and Ron. Colin took it in their third year, and Hermione was standing between her two best friends holding onto their waists while they each had an arm wrapped around her shoulder. They were all laughing about something, and Hermione remembered falling in love with this picture because it was taken only a day before they learned the truth about Sirius Black. This was the last picture to capture the essence of their innocence.

Her eyes were filled with tears, and she could hear her parents laughing at something downstairs.

The war was nearing, and Hermione knew everything was different. Professor Dumbledore was dead now, and Harry would be seventeen in two weeks. The protection charm placed by his mum would disappear soon, and the Death Eaters would be able to get to him. Next to her on the bed was a letter from Remus telling her that they would be arriving to pick her up soon. Hermione still hadn't unpacked her things since leaving Hogwarts, and all she wanted to do was grab it and run away. She could convince her parents that it was time for a much needed vacation – they would leave without any questions. They could stay with her aunt and uncle in America. Everything would be so much easier if Hermione Granger no longer existed.

She was only seventeen years old – she was frightened and she was tired of always having to fight just to live. If she left she wouldn't have to worry about being killed while still only a child. Not wanting to abandon Harry when he was depending on her, but also wanting to just live, Hermione took in a deep breath. She had been debating about this for a week now. She didn't know what to do, and she had only an hour left to decide. Remus them would be here soon. Hermione wanted nothing more than to be gone by the time they arrived. They would understand… at least she hoped they would. She was scared. She was just so scared. It was easier to give up than to keep fighting.

Continuing to cry as she debated on just giving up on everyone, Hermione heard a loud screeching sound. Turning her head to the window, expecting another warning owl from Remus or Ron, Hermione was shocked to see a large black raven. It seemed almost like an omen – like death was near. Slowly climbing off the bed Hermione wiped her tears away with the back of her arm, and she retrieved the parchment from its talon.

Giving up is not acceptable

Startled that someone had found the message in a bottle that she had thrown into the river a week before, Hermione was even more shocked at the idea of someone from the wizarding world finding it and actually responding. She had always had a childish dream that she would send out a message in a bottle and someone would find it then rescue her, but Hermione knew better now. She threw out that bottle because it was her deepest secret – she long ago gave up on the hope that someone would rescue her. She just had to get her thoughts off of her chest.

Re-reading the words though gave Hermione some sort of emotion. In a way someone did rescue her. Smiling as she suddenly realized what she had to do, Hermione watched as the raven flew away. Tucking the note into her back pocket, Hermione glanced over at her packed trunks once more then grabbed her wand. The stranger gave her the answer; she knew what to do now.

Running downstairs before she lost the nerve, Hermione saw her parents turn around to look at her. Taking in a deep breath, Hermione stared into their loving eyes.

"I love you both," she told them, "I'm so sorry – obliviate!"

Hermione knew what she had to do. She had to fight alongside Harry and Ron. She couldn't give up just because she was scared.

Giving up was not acceptable!

Pau 3-1-13 at 1140pm

I like the idea of Bellatrix finding some sort of inner-peace at saving one life compared to the many that she had destroyed. I also like to believe that Hermione did often contemplate on just abandoning everyone so she could live. After all, she was only 17 (yes, I know she was 18 but I like to ignore that fact completely) and even Harry got scared. I also love the irony of this.

I'm honestly not sure how the hell I came up with this, but I'm prouder of this than I was when I graduated! (:

Please review! I lied and told my cousin I had to fill out a job application just to use his laptop to type this out!