Hermione was absolutely exhausted, mentally as well as physically, as she sank down on the floor of the Great Hall, keeping a few respectful feet away from the Weasleys.
Her mind was numb, and she was thankful for it because it meant that she would not have to process what she was seeing in front of her - a line of dead bodies in the place where she once talked and laughed and ate with her friends. People she'd known, not known, talked to, hated, loved - all dead.
She glanced towards the body of Fred Weasley and felt a pang once again. She knew it would be worse afterwards (if there was even going to be an afterwards for her) because she couldn't feel anything right now. It was simply too much for her to handle.
Hermione couldn't see him, but his family surrounding him and felt a pang again as she saw Ron's face. Ron, who made her laugh, who made her cry, who she loved so much...it would be almost better if he were crying, rather than looking like that. It made her want to cry.
After allowing herself those few moments of rest, Hermione stood up purposefully, then looked around, suddenly remembering something.
Harry. Where had Harry gone? In all of the chaos and confusion, she had lost track of him. She nearly groaned - she was sure he was going to do something stupid that they all would regret later.
She felt it wouldn't be right to go and talk to Ron about it - she doubted he was feeling any particular fondness for Harry at the moment (she knew she wouldn't) - so she scanned the hall for anyone he might have talked to.
Alighting upon Neville Longbottom, she approached him. She tried to say something to him but nothing would come out of her mouth. She cleared her throat and tried again.
"Hey, Neville," she said, trying to sound stoic, but was surprised to hear how thin her voiced sounded.
He turned. "Oh. Hi, Hermione." He tried to smile at her, but couldn't. She understood.
"Have you seen Harry? He's disappeared somewhere." She got straight to the point, as she couldn't think of anything else at the moment.
"Oh, um, actually yeah I have. He told me...er...that if I had the chance, to kill Voldemort's snake, and then he left somewhere."
There were a few moments of silence as Hermione processed this. She suddenly recalled the announcement that Voldemort had made about an hour ago. and comprehension and horror dawned on her face. Neville gave her a questioning look. "You - you don't think -?"
He understood what she meant immediately and shook his head violently. "I asked him, he said no, definitely not."
She relaxed. "I just hope he was telling the truth. Of all the idiotic things..." but she trailed off, relieved in spite of herself.
Hermione walked back towards the Weasleys, feeling slightly better.
Just then, she heard someone enter the Entrance Hall and stiffened. Surely it couldn't be...even he wouldn't...
She then heard loud sobbing - very familiar sobbing. "Hagrid!" she whispered sharply to herself. Why..?
Then the entire party made itself visible as they entered the Great Hall. Lord Voldemort - she shuddered involuntarily, then berated herself - followed by a bunch of his vile Death Eaters.
Hermione spotted Bellatrix Lestrange and felt such a fierce hatred she surprised even herself. She absently fingered the raised scar on her arm - 'Mudblood.'
She turned her attention towards Hagrid - he was carrying something...someone...
She felt her whole world on the brink of collapse. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move, surely that couldn't be him, he couldn't...
"No." She breathed, alert again, then made her way quickly towards Ron and Ginny.
"Ron, look at Hagrid, he's carrying someone - is it...?" Hermione said urgently, breathing hard.
"No," he said hollowly. "No, he couldn't've, he wouldn't..."
Hermione tried to believe him, but the look in Ginny's eyes said something completely different. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud scream.
"NO!" shrieked Professor McGonagall as she noticed the group now in the Great Hall.
Hermione blanched. She had never heard Professor McGonagall make such a noise...but surely, surely it wasn't Harry...
"No," she whispered to herself again. But Hagrid was now in clear view, and the mop of messy black hair was unmistakeable in his arms.
"No!" she screamed, but she barely heard her own voice. Everything around her was moving in slow motion - it felt as though time itself had stopped - she couldn't hear a thing in the Hall that had been bustling with voices a moment ago. Surely she must be dying, but the sharp, fresh pain, far from being over, had only just begun...
A stream of memories involuntarily flashed across Hermione's vision.
Two boys sat in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express, one taller with shockingly red hair and freckles, one small and skinny with jet-black hair and round glasses. 'I'm Harry. Harry Potter.' ...
The giant, ugly troll had cornered her in the bathroom stall, surely it was going to eat her, she was going to die in a bathroom, of all places. But then she saw a mass of jet-black hair from behind the troll, and inexplicably thought, 'I'm saved.' ...
She had awakened from the longest sleep ever, the reflection of the Basilisk still fresh in her mind...the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes were two smiling faces, two blue eyes and two emerald green, her best friends, waiting for her to wake up...
She watched from behind Hagrid's hut resignedly as he violated all the rules of time travel, watched as he cast the most difficult spell, one she couldn't even do, and suddenly felt a warm rush of pride for her best friend...
He was coming out of the maze, with Cedric Diggory's body in his arms. He looked so tired, so dead, his eyes haunted with things that no fourteen-year-old should ever have to see...but she was so proud of him, more than ever...
They were in the Room of Requirement, and she watched him, their leader and teacher, as he watched Cho Chang...a small smile crept on her face...
Her head was resting on his shoulder as she cried, let out all the frustration she had about Ron...he listened to her without talking, squeezed her hand, and she knew that he would be there for her whenever...
She watched from her window in Shell Cottage as he painstakingly dug a grave for his most loyal friend...she remembered how his face had contorted with grief, a sadness that she'd hope to never see in his face again...
Hermione was jolted rudely back to the present, and she heard the cold voice of Lord Voldemort. "...He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself, while you lay down your lives for him..."
Her heart contorted with a numb rage. She was surprised she could still feel anything at all, but her anger was sharp and clear. Liar. You dirty, evil liar. You'll pay for this.
She vowed to herself, then and there, to kill him, if it was the last thing she ever did.
Read and Review, please! Sorry if it's not perfectly DH-compliant, I tried my best from memory.