It happened so slowly. Hermione's eyes were drawn to the flash of green that approached her. Fear rooted her to the spot. She had never been afraid before, so why now? It was just another battle. She urged her feet to move, but there was no response. She attempted to lift her arm to deflect the spell, but it was no use. Her body just wouldn't obey her brain. All the time, it drew nearer. The green light, the pain, the darkness. Memories flooded the young witches mind. When she had received her letter to Hogwarts. When she had seen the castle for the first time, illuminated by the moonlight and reflected in the icy cold waters of the lake. It looked magestic, even regal. The same castle being burnt to the ground around her now. And the day she became friends with those wonderful boys, boys who had saved her countless times, and in return she had saved them. When Ron told her he loved her. The moment of elation. The feel of rough lips against her own. And now. The Final Battle. Where one side would win. And hermione wouldn't see the light engulf the dark, only the dark as it engulfed her. Any moment now. Why was the waiting so slow? A flash of red caught hermione's eye. The boy who she loved. Those deep blue eyes, calming and reassuring locked with hers. A movement so quick, as green hit red, and the freckled boy collapsed at her feet. And the voice echoed across the castle. Calling the dark back to him. Giving the light an hour to fade and give in to the dark. And all of a sudden, time sped up again.
A scream. A cry. A call for help. She sunk to her knees, as a sob racked her body. She turned Ron over. The calm, reassuring eyes from before, now dead and expressionless. The tears would not stop. They came quickly and silently. Gone was this boy. This wonderful boy. Her Knight. The boy who meant more to her than anything else in the world. Her best friend. She grasped his hand. This couldn't be it. This was not how stories ended.