A/N: This will be my sister fic to Sanctity of Marriage: Draco Malfoy, as a, "What if it happened this way instead?" If there is anything that could be triggering, I will post warnings, and provide a summary of the chapter at the beginning to include those who may be re-traumatized by any indepth details. This will be a more dark and intense fic, compared to the more light fic of its sister Dramione. If you enjoy it, or hate it, feel free to PM or review.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so please don't sue me.

CHAPTER ONE

Open at the Close

Avada kedavra!

Expelliarmus!

Death and decay littered the grounds and halls of Hogwarts, while the mournful silence that had stretched on for ages eventually shattered in a cacophony of grieving screams and joyful cheers. Both sides were in shock. No one could have known the outcome of the battle, but there had been confidence on both sides, Light and Dark. Now that the end had come, astonishment rippled outward through those still standing, like a pebble in a pond. Reactions varied; hearts either broke or filled with pride, legs gave out or started moving. The delay offered most of the defeated side to either give up all hope, or make a break for it before they became targets and prisoners.

Hermione had always been one for quick thinking, even in the face of utter devastation. The second Harry fell, she was moving through openings between friend and foe. She reached Neville and Luna first, shoving a portkey coin into the blonde witch's hand, not bothering to watch it whisk them away before continuing her search for the others. Arthur, Molly, and George were holding Ginny back from sprinting forth to attack, and Hermione pushed a coin into the Weasley patriarch's hand. Remus and Tonks were already dead. Fred, dead. Kingsley had already grabbed a few people and Disapparated to safety, as several other Order members and Aurors followed suit. Seamus, Cormac and the Patil twins were crouched by Lavender, trying to stop the bleeding at her throat. The young witch wouldn't survive the wounds inflicted by Greyback, but there was always a chance. Hermione shoved a portkey coin into Parvati's hand, then one into Seamus' hand, and the group disappeared with Lavender's twitching body, as all hell began to break loose.

There was no need to search for Ron, as he had died trying to block the Killing Curse from overwhelming Harry. They had died together, friends to the very end.

Sprinting through the corridors, Hermione found Percy still clutching Fred's body. She had two coins left, and she shook the grief stricken Percy until he met her gaze and urged him to take one, "You know what to do Percy. They'll need papers. Manage the ranks…"

She actually stayed long enough to see the portkey activate, the older Weasley brother and his dead brother gone in a wink.

Down to the last portkey, she took off before the Death Eaters could catch up. She had managed to save as many as she could during the tidal wave of shock, and now it was time to follow the desperate pull to one last individual before she disappeared into obscurity, because that was the only way she was going to survive. They all had to disappear, the remaining Order members, the muggleborns, the blood traitors - everyone that posed a threat to the new regime. The government had already fallen to Voldemort, and now, so had Hogwarts. There was no longer a stronghold in the United Kingdom that could hide enemies of the wizarding state. Hermione knew this one, vital fact, and so had Percy, ages ago. She was just grateful she had the good sense to reach out to him during her fourth year to set up contingency plans. Percy knew what to do, and he would have resources.

It was on the Weasleys and the last shreds of the Order now. Hermione was aware that she may not survive the coming weeks, knowing she was the last of the core force against Voldemort, and she had the largest target on her back. The Dark Lord would want her eliminated before anything else, because there was a chance that Harry had her something detrimental to the destruction of Voldemort. He would want all links to Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Savior, extinguished from the face of the Earth.

Hermione Granger was obviously going to be at the top of the Dark Lord's list.

Sprinting as fast as she could over the expanse of battle worn lawn, leaping over corpses and dodging curses as Death Eaters gave chase. The hunt had begun, and time was running out, but she just needed to get to the bridge. It was the fastest route outside of the anti-Apparition wards the Death Eaters had no doubt put in place. There was no other way, considering she couldn't outrun the Death Eaters, not in her health, and not in her state.

It had been subtle, gone unnoticed for days, the maiden fever and the itching uncomfortableness of her own skin that had begun following her torture in Malfoy Manor. Hermione had finally started the process of presentation, and it had started getting worse as the days passed. Harry and Ron had both finished presenting by the end of their sixth year, but the stress that Hermione had always internalized had prevented her from showing any form of symptoms of distinction. As the year on the run began, and the stress and worry increased tenfold, she had even stopped bleeding as quickly as she had started losing weight. The aftermath of her torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange - may that batshit crazy woman never rest in peace - had sent Hermione's hormones into overdrive, throwing her into a transitionary period overnight, and now she was certain that what most females feared above all else was happening.

She was Omega.

The bridge was underfoot now, and the Death Eaters were still throwing hexes to slow her down, stop Hermione before she could escape, but they always underestimated the determination that was part of her very core. It was in her bones, never allowing her one second to slow down, to give in to the needling pain in her lungs, the blood burning in her veins, and the overwhelming heartbreak crushing her from the inside out. She was so close to escaping that she couldn't let anything else take precedence in her mind. She had to remain focused on the fixed bend in the stone railing, the invisible barrier that separated her from defeat and what could only be pseudo-freedom.

Then she was at the point of no return. She didn't slow down as she leapt onto the stone ledge, and didn't blink - did not hesitate - as she followed the momentum she had gained, flinging herself over the side to the rushing waters so far below. The jagged rocks were flying up to meet her, so quickly she barely registered that she was going to die if she did not twist herself into the tight compression of endless void.

She was outside of the wards, the ripple of magic passing through her in a fraction of a second, and with the last of her strength, Hermione threw herself into a contortionist move and focused on the intent, the location she was desperately trying to reach.

There was only so little time left...