PROLOGUE

"I don't have long left. I'm sorry I have to entrust this to you, Miss Granger, but I can think of no other individual more capable. You, of course, have the option to decline." His blue eyes were lacking the twinkle they normally held, his blackened hand hidden beneath glittering mauve robes.

"I don't really though. I won't leave Harry, no matter the cost. He's my brother in all but blood." She said firmly. Dumbledore's harsh blue eyes softened slightly and she could almost see tears in his eyes.

"You're brave, Miss Granger." He said lowly. Silence enveloped the room for a moment before she looked him in the eyes.

"What will happen to my parents? They'll be hunted. Tortured. Killed." She hated the way her voice cracked, the weakness that still shone through slightly.

"Not if they're hidden."

"They won't go along with it. They'll want to be with me. They'll never agree."

"Then," he paused, tiredly. "Perhaps an executive decision must be made." But surely he couldn't mean…?

"Obliviation?" She felt ashamed of herself for knowing what he was referring to. Ashamed that she had already thought of it, long before this conversation. The Headmaster smiled unhappily, resolutely.

"For people like you and I, Miss Granger — sometimes the end justifies the means." The two of them fell back into silence for a moment until she looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Something has been bothering me about the prophecy," she confessed, quietly. It was alarming to her how calmly she said it, how monotonous her voice stayed. "Neither can live while the other survives." He didn't correct her, didn't reassure her that things will be fine. He merely nodded, solemnly.

She knows it, then.

"And if he asks me?" she said, feeling sick. "Am I supposed to lie? Tell him he'll live and grow old with Ginny and be happy? That he's not got a piece of Voldemort inside him?" They stared at one another. He looked different now; brittle and cold — or maybe she was finally seeing the flaws in the design.

"Sometimes a lie can be a kindness." His half-moon spectacles were crooked. She looked up at him with wide inquisitive eyes and he half-realised that she was still a child.

"Are you afraid, Sir?"

He let the question hang in the air. "To die, you mean?" She gave a curt nod.

"No," he said. "When you're as old and tired as I am, a long sleep is welcomed. The weary will envy me."

She likes the sound of that lie.

A dark mark was suspended above them, vibrant green and glittering. It was almost beautiful. The old wizard lay broken on the floor, his dead body bathed in green light. Hermione watched on, splattered with blood that was not her own. The constellation of skull and snake was reflected in his still crooked glasses. Just behind it lay his eyes, closed and relaxed in a slumber from which he won't wake. He was telling the truth, after all.

She does envy him.

They were outside the tent, bracing the cold wind, standing shoulder to shoulder. Trees surrounded them from all angles. The clearing she'd found was barely big enough to fit the tent.

The screaming had been going on for a few minutes by now.

"Is it real?" He whispered to her. The locket looked heavy on his chest; his shoulders slumped from the weight of it. The chain had left bright red marks around his neck. His eyes were frantic as he searched the darkness. He looked half-mad. "Do you hear it, Mia?" He asked again, looking searchingly into her eyes.

She knew it was real. She could hear it too, each scream piercing her soul with guilt. Someone who hadn't been as smart as she whilst they were trying to hide, someone who had been caught by the Snatchers.

She knew Harry wanted to help; he was always so eager to save everyone, even if it cost him his own life.

"I don't hear anything, Harry. It must be the Horcrux."

Eventually the screaming stopped. And she knew somebody was dead because of her and she could feel the blood slicking her hands. But she looked at Harry who had finally got to sleep, who had finally deposited the locket into her hands. She saw his eyes move under his eyelids as they did whenever he had bad dreams and she was overwhelmed with love she felt for this boy, her brother in all but blood.

She would do anything for him; she had vowed that to both herself and Dumbledore before he had died.

She looked at Harry's sleeping form and knew that somebody wouldn't ever wake up again.

But she would do anything to ensure Harry was the one that always woke back up.

Anything.

Everything was dark and she knew only pain.

Hermione was losing her sense of reality with every new blast of pain that flooded every inch of her being and burned her nerves like torches. Her voice was fading more and more with every scream, but she couldn't withhold the wild, desperate shrieks that were tearing out of her raw, bone-dry throat. Her eyes were clouded and all she could see was the blurred figure of the witch who leaned over her, just inches from her face. She could hear Harry screaming her name and pounding the wall, but it was all blocked out by a ringing in her ears.

"What else did you take out of my vault?"

Hermione cried even harder during the respite from any pain, allowed by Bellatrix only so that she could speak. She had given Bellatrix the same answer five times now, a rapid shake of her head 'no'. There was a loud sigh from Bellatrix before another scream of the Cruciatus Curse.

Another brief reprieve, but she was asked nothing this time. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her lip was quivering like she was going to vomit, but she had stopped caring. Frank and Alice hadn't given up and neither would she. Her head lolled to the side and she could see Draco Malfoy with a remorseful look on his face, silvery eyes that showed an apology.

Bellatrix grabbed her face and twisted it towards hers, laying her body over the top of Hermione's petite frame.

"You're doing so very well, little Mudblood. Let's step it up a notch, shall we?" She felt Bellatrix's hands pull up her sleeve and hold her arm in place. There was a searing pain, like fire, as the knife sliced into her flesh. Hermione's voice, that had been struggling to scream, seemed to be renewed at that point. She let out a high-pitched, blood-curdling shriek, tears rolling down her cheeks as her body tried to move away from the pain. "What did you take?" She just furiously shook her head again and the woman sighed, pulling her other sleeve. The icy pain once again filled her, feeling as though each of her nerve endings had been sliced in half.

Bellatrix's weight moved off of her and her head lolled to the side once again, tears dripping down her cheeks. Her body was twitching with the aftershocks of the Cruciatus curse and she could feel warm blood dripping down her arms. Fenrir had a small grin on his face as Bellatrix turned to him.

"You can have her. I need to go to Gringotts."

"Like hell he will." She heard Harry say. She just remained on the floor, letting the fight happen, too tired to keep going. She felt arms grab her and looked up to see Harry grabbing her. "It's okay, Mia. It's okay."

"I love you, brother." She whispered weakly as they apparated away. She missed the look on Harry's face, the look of utter loyalty and love and the strange hope and acceptance that he had a family.

"I love you too, Mia. My sister."

"We lost." She said lowly, staring into the portrait of the man. Tears washed away the blood from her face and the portrait eyed her wearily. "We had every horcrux, even Harry. We should be—"

"I know. I know." Said the portrait softly.

"Harry and I are the only two left." She said coldly. "We can't win."

"There's always hope, Miss Granger. You just have to look for it in the right place." She refrained from scoffing.

"It's a pretty lie." She said quietly, trying to withhold her anger.

"This is the truth. There are other realities, other times where people can be saved. Where the War can be won." He said. She leaned forward in her chair and watched his pale blue eyes intently.

"You have a contingency plan?"

"Yes."

"Will it save Harry?"

"Not just him. You could save everyone, Miss Granger. You could allow Mr Potter to have everything he has ever desired; a family and a normal life." The cogs whirred in Hermione's brain as she looked up at him, trying to ignore the cold, manipulative eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"Just me carrying it out? Whatever this… mission is?" She almost missed the cruel twitch of his lips, a small smile at winning over this girl.

"Yes. Harry will be a… liability on your journey. He is a Gryffindor to the bone, as are you, Miss Granger, but he does not understand the vitality of the greater good. He is utterly selfless, he would sacrifice himself for a beetle. Going alone is your only chance for survival, for Harry's survival." She nodded, her mind flickering back to the screams from the Horcrux hunt, the girl that Harry would have died to save, even if she played no major role. She steeled her expression and looked up at him.

"What do I do?"

The portrait of Albus Dumbledore grinned.