Shock, it was the only thing going through her mind. She stared out into the clearing at the scorched flesh that used to be the boy who lived. She couldn't believe, she knew in a few seconds he would rise up and fight for her and all the others around her. He can't be dead. A resounding cry from her side came about and with it the sounds of fighting commenced again. She knew that the number of death eaters dwindled to that of the Lord and his second in command, but that wasn't counting the magical peons that still assaulted the grounds so when she came face to face with the woman from her nightmares, she gave up. The pale woman looked upon her in disgust.
"Oh my, how the mighty have fallen. Has the lion been tamed with the death of her pride?" Bellatrix laughs gleefully to herself.
"Oh Muddy this is beneath me, back when you had that fight in you and the desire to live I would of given you my time of day to end your misery, but no longer ta ta Muddy."
With that the dark witch walked away with her back turned to the once proud Gryffindor. Not even worthy of a warrior's death she slumps over. That old fool, trusting the fate of the wizarding world in the hands of uninformed children. Hermione slowly stared out into the battlefield, the bodies of her friends and peers lay like a sea of ruin and despair before her. No more, she couldn't take it anymore. With a bright red flare from her wand coupled with her amplified voice she cries out her surrender.
"Please no more, you've won. My friend is dead, there is no Dumbledore, there is no order, there is no fight. Please you're attacking children that have only been defending their home. Please I beg you let us bury our dead with dignity and be done with this bloodshed."
A small hush befalls the battlefield as the lone cub's words seep in. No response is given just a small gesture from the snake like wizard, a sigh escapes the lips of his second and with that they vanish in their signature black smoke, the remaining creatures and lesser magical combatants follow suit and slowly disperse from the conflict. Hermione starts rounding up the teachers and other adults, to her eternal dismay the body of the head of her house lay prone and lifeless a few meters away from her. The only surviving Weasley is that of a young Ginny, her tears hot and fresh on her face as she sees the others lay scattered about haphazardly.
There are no words amongst the living, Luna's eyes are as lifeless as the corpse of Neville, as she casually walks around his bloated body, the teachers aren't fairing much better. Sprout and Sybill can't hold in their tears as they pass the mutilated body of Flitwick, the Tonks family lay cold, but together their hands clasped so tightly that not even death could tear them apart. The bodies are hurried and loved ones mourned on the battle scorched field, the lull subsides and people look longingly to the castle. The silence weighed heavily on the group as Hermione lead them back into their home.
Counts were taken and casualties were accounted for, the family like members of Hogwarts castle reduced to nothing, but numbers on a small notepad. Hermione retreated to the Gryffindor commons to try and escape the questioning stares of the people around her. She needed time to think and to process the loss that has befallen her. After a quick silencing charm she looks down and realizes that she still has the wand of one Bellatrix Lestrange. The same woman that took the life of her mentor. Her grip tightens as hot tears roll down her cheeks, she had a clear shot at the demented witch, when her back was turned. If she wasn't such a coward, maybe McGonagall would still be here to impart her words of wisdom and give hope to the hopeless.
A harsh flick and the bedpost next to her shatters with a quick blasting spell, her emotions settle slowly as she witnesses the destruction of the furniture. A realization occurs. Her disgust has vanished, her hate for the stick of walnut in front of her is gone. Refusing to look into it, she collapses in pure exhaust pulling the blankets over herself as she settles into a guilt ridden sleep.
The sun slips slowly out from the clouds basking the castle in light, the mood somber and melancholic as the students rise to the new day. An understanding of the situation dawns on them, Voldemort has won, the order has fallen, and now nothing stands in the way of the dark lord's desires. The masses huddle in the commons awaiting some ounce of normalency from either an elder's hopeful word or even just the taste of a hogwarts breakfast. With neither in sight, Madame Pomfrey stood and with a deep sadness spoke out.
"Dearest students, we have been through an ordeal together. Something we will never forget, owls will be sent and we will start evacuating the school. To those…."
Her vision casts towards the ground and with a soft sigh. "To those with no home to go back to, you may stay here. No student shall go without food nor housing as long as this castle stands."
The last few words were sad through tears as her gaze befalls the remaining hogwarts population. Hermione looks out the hope diminished from her, no kinds words would bring her friends back, her parents were gone somewhere in Australia. She had nothing to go back to, her gaze twitched from her mourning classmates to her weeping teachers until it settled on a window facing out overlooking the lake and what lies across the pond.
The hours after passed in a blur, until Hermione finds herself in front of the same gargoyle that preceded all the mistakes she made throughout her years, a feeling grew in her, rising up from her left arm to her chest. A hatred started to brew within her. 'Why us, we were children. Not pawns to be sacrificed for some old man's version of the greater good.'
With clenched fists she lashed out casting another blasting charm into the smug looking face of the stone statue before her. Regret crossed her features quickly replaced with determination. She steps over the rubble and proceeds to ascend up the spiral staircase into the headmasters quarters. Her anger subsides as it's replaced with empty loss, her sight drifts from wall to wall, the decorating of her mentor adorning the scene around her. A small note lies on top of the desk, the remainder of the surface barren and clear.
With shaking fingers she reaches for the pale parchment. 'If you are reading this, I am most likely gone from this world. Having perished in the battle with you-know-who I can only hope that it was not in vain and that the world I had left behind is one of equality and love. The matters of my belongings is another matter. Having born no children of my own I leave behind my vaults and belongings to my star pupil Hermione Jean Granger, may you overcome the challenges and obstacles you face, but I know as long as you have your friends you can overcome anything. With love and everlasting support, Minerva Mcgonagall.'
Hermione couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates had broken and she was there on her knees weeping, if those tears were for her friends, mentor, or even parents she will never know. Every breath came with a wretched sob filled with regret and disappointment. Her mind flooded with wishful thinking and hindsight, but nothing could bring them back to her. With her resolve slowly returning she makes it to her feet, she scours the office for anything to help. She slowly comes to the conclusion that she can't stay here.
She can't stay in Europe with that monster on the loose, she starts grabbing objects of either sentimental value or of a more practical application. Her arm burns as she turns towards a small dresser. She starts looking through it, opening and slamming drawers like a mad woman, she had no idea what had taken her with such glee, but the idea of going through Mcgonagall's drawers has drawn this strange feeling from her. A small twinkle catches her eye, the time turner just laid there untouched. Memories flooded her thoughts as her fingers closes around the small object. She ties it gently around her neck before taking a short look around the disheveled space, with a mumbled farewell and a soft pop she vanishes.