Hermione walked down the steps with her usual precise pace. Evenly spaced, straight steps. Her book bag heavier than usual after her quick library visit.

Students hurried passed her, silent somehow. Tension had filled Hogwarts the past few months, but none as much on the particular Thursday. They could all sense it, something was wrong; something was going to happen; something would happen. Something absolutely dire.

Hermione rounded the corner, only to drop the Arithmancy book she was carrying as she collided into someone else. She gazed down at the person sprawled on the floor. Not the least guilty or worried. She recognized the blond hair, the proud stature, the indifferent eyes and the pugged nose. Pansy Parkinson.

"Mudblood."

"Try ingenuity sometime."

Glare was met for glare.

"Hiding Granger? You should."

She turned her gaze onto the group of Slytherins behind Parkinson. Or more specifically, on Malfoy. The joy of meeting with the Spawn of Slytherin himself.

See the devil on the doorstep now

Telling everybody oh just how to live their lives

"It will be hard though," he drawled, "No place I know that will hide that mess of a hair."

Sneers and snickers followed the denigration unsurprisingly. Nothing was ever surprising nowadays.

"Crabbe! Pick up the books," he ordered.

Crabbe obeyed, and clumsily, forcefully, stacked them in the crook of his left arm; till there was only one left on the floor. Hermione's Arithmancy book. That, was given to Malfoy.

"Studying won't do you any good Granger. No amount of intelligence will hide your filthiness."

The book fell at her feet. She fixed her eyes on it, willing herself not to show emotion.

"Goyle! Help Parkinson up."

The lumbering idiot hoisted the nasal-retard up, and after a quick dust of the clothes, the Slytherins were leaving.

And she was left alone, yet not after a complimentary push to the wall, instructed once again by Malfoy.

She could still hear his arrogant voice from down the hallway. Telling people what they already knew.

"Something big is happening today. Father told me. He's coming down later. Says he has to deal with something. Dumbledore isn't going to know what hit him."

His voice was exceptionally loud, and the words were disturbingly haunting. She had caught his warning, his desperate plea for her to leave. And she wanted nothing but to comply and make him feel better, but she could not; she had chosen, as had he.

Sliding down the information highway
Buying in just like a bunch of fools
Time is ticking and we can't go back

The bustling hall was quiet, empty. All the students had gone to their classes, and sadly, she didn't feel for class anymore. She did not want to learn about numbers, or transformations or spells. She just wanted to be alone, to think out everything. To make sure she had valued the options, made the right choice.

She walked off in the direction she had came in, hands forlornly at the sides, eyes on the used wooden floor, Arithmancy book still on the ground.

She found herself in a prefect's bathroom mere minutes later. The book bag was dropped to the floor, emitting a rather loud echo as she stepped into the empty bathtub. A tiny sigh filled the room.

She hated how everything was hidden. She hated how they were all treated. She hated having to choose.

She knew how the other students were feeling. Each so similar yet so different. All suffering from the same horror, yet none could understand the other.

Only a month since the Christmas holidays and the professors were already pushing them on for the final examinations; not that she didn't appreciate it.

But it was wrong. Wrong for them to cover up the terror that lurked. To cover up what might happen to Hogwarts. It was all so wrong.

Outside Hogwarts, it was all sheer destruction. Corpses everywhere you turned. Blood painted walls. Dark Marks above every house, it was a daylight nightmare.

With Voldemort back, Death-Eaters escaping, and people dying by the dozens, the silent chaos was unbearable. Students aplenty turning into orphans like Harry. Wasn't she one of them? Wasn't her parents murdered too? Wasn't she just as hurt as the rest of them?

She had cried, but she hadn't meant it. As the dirt covered their graves she realized she felt no sadness. Just pure unadulterated anger. Why?

Why wasn't she grieving? Why was everyone suffering? Why wouldn't they be told what was going on outside the castle? Why couldn't they help? Why couldn't Draco accept what she wanted to do?

What about the world today
What about the place that we call home

We've never been so many
And we've never been so alone

Draco. She could not understand him. It seemed that he didn't want her anywhere. And at one time, he had wanted her everywhere. The irony of it all.

They had discussed this topic so frequently that for weeks after, it was all they ever talked about.

"I want to do it."

"But you can't! You'll be killed!"

She wanted to help, play a part in the war.

"Why ever for? You won't be getting anything out of it. You don't have to. It's not your war anyway."

"If it's not mine, then neither is it yours. I want revenge. For Harry, for Ron- for my parents."

"They wouldn't have wanted you to be in this war. They were exposed to it, and now they're all dead. Do you think they'll want that for you? Do you?"

You keep watching from your picket fence
You keep talking but it makes no sense

You say we're not responsible
But we are, we are

She had thought about it, and later realized he was right. Wasn't he always right when it came to her?

"Maybe… maybe I don't want it for them. What if I just wanted to be it, to feel needed? Essential?"

"Harry was essential, Hermione! You're not. He, he was linked to Voldemort. You aren't. You're not special, you're not needed. He was, not you, never you. You're wasting your time, your life, if you join the war. Do you really think Dumbledore is going to win? The Aurors are dead. The Order he set up, they're all missing, hiding probably, or dead. The Ministry is retreating, the community is too afraid to do anything. He's got nothing to help him. Unless he wants muggles, but what can muggles do after all?"

"Then why are you fighting?"

"My father wants me in it- and, I have promised Voldemort to be his servant."

"I'm still doing it."

"Hermione, you can't. You just can't! People wouldn't want you dead! I-I wouldn't want you dead!"

"I would be dead if I remain neutral!"

"Not if I had anything to say about it. When we win, I can request for your safety. We'll all be safe."

"I don't want to remain idle. I don't want you to protect me. I want to do something, something meaningful."

"Your death won't be meaningful."

"Then I'll join you. With Voldemort. I'll be his slave too."

"We're not his slaves!"

"They are. You will be one too. And maybe, maybe I'll join you too."

"He won't let a muggleborn in. He kills them."

"He and I, we're similar. We're both smart, we're both alone, and we both understand matters far beyond us. Surely he would- he will make an exception for a mudblood like me?"

You wash your hands and come out clean
Fail to recognise the enemies within
You say we're not responsible
But we are, we are, we are, we are

Draco Malfoy strode at the front of the rather large group of Slytherins into the Charms classroom. His housemates sneered at everyone that passed by. He did the same, yet never getting into it as he had once.

He needed to get out of the room, needed to get rid of them before he lost his temper, or worst still, his sanity. Couldn't they see he was faking it? Couldn't they see he didn't like it anymore?

Of course not. They were like him after all. Heartless, deceiving.

"Professor? May I be excused?"

Professor Flitwick nodded his permission, but Draco was already halfway out the door.

The hallways were dead as he walked past. The usually talkative paintings were quiet, staring forlornly at the hallways or desolately at those who walked by. The rooms he passed were all silent, the castle was entirely still. And that disturbed him. Generally, he loved silence, revelled in it, but this, this was disconcerting, unnatural. The calm before the storm.

His pace quickened as he continued to walk towards their place. The Prefect's bathroom.

"Lemon Scent."

The painting swung forwards and he stepped into the rather large bathroom. He found her staring at him in mild curiosity and surprise. He let out a small, unnoticeable sigh.

"What are you doing here?"

"I am a prefect too."

Silence filled the room, both not knowing what else to say.

"They're coming today."

Hermione looked up at him, observing him.

He looked different. Tired, worried, jumpy.

"If you keep on moving, you will be living up to your nickname, The Amazing Bouncing Ferret," she grinned, "I really would love the encore."

He scowled at her, and she knew he didn't really mean it.

He sat on the polished floor, leaning against the white wall.

"They're coming today."

"I know. The whole castle knows. The inkling of it is very intense."

One step forward making two steps back
Riding piggy on the bad boys back for life
Lining up for the grand illusion
No answers for no questions asked

"I found a place you know. Where you can stay. It's on the fourth floor---"

"I told you, I'm not going to stay put. I'm fighting back, and you're not going to stop me."

"What if you have to fight me then? Will you do it?"

Hermione avoided his probing eyes, gazing at the sink. Her hands started playing with the hem of her robe.

"Would you? Would you kill me if you had to?"

Draco felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"I have to, if they're people there, I have to. Father- Father would be displeased if I did not."

Cinnamon pierced into grey.

"Then so shall I."

Lining up for the execution
Without knowing why

It's all about power then
Take control

"Listen, they're coming. They're going to attack Hogwarts, they're going to seize all students, professors, everything they can get their hands on. Voldemort himself will be there. You have to get out!"

"Where ever is your school loyalty?" Hermione asked wryly, not particularly affected by his warning.

"Where did your acumen go?"

"It went the moment you chose."

"I can't leave with you Hermione! My whole future will be damaged! I'll have no money, no reputation, no manor, nothing!"

Hermione stood up angrily.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I will be suffering just the same? Or was it all about you and not me in the first place?"

He stood up without his usual gracefulness; he was tired; he wanted her to understand.

"Why can't you just see that it will all be better off if you just hid? Why can't you see how happy we will be if you don't fight?"

"Why can't you see that I want to do something? I want to play a part. I just want to play a bloody damn part in this goddamned world!"

"You'll be playing the damn part when you hide!"

Hermione sank back down into the bathtub, looking all forsaken and susceptible.

Breaking the rule
Breaking the soul

"Hermione?"

"You don't understand, you just don't understand…"

Draco was aghast to find that her voiced was all choked up and small trails of tears were falling on her cheeks.

Awkwardly, he gathered her in his arms and held her as close to him as possible. He felt his shoulder becoming damp with her tears.

"Tell me. Let me understand."

She coughed before answering.

"You don't know what it's like, having no post, having nothing to do. Wanting to do something but having nothing to do. No role to fulfil. No responsibility to follow. When Harry was alive, I had to provide him with plans, ensure he was alive, teach him spells- but he died, and I had one less role to play. I had Ron though, and I ensured that he did his homework, that he was safe, that he didn't do anything rash- but he died too, just a month after Harry. And I was left with one less role. I did my best with being a good daughter; the best possible-but they died too. Doing best in school? It didn't appeal anymore. I wasn't doing it for anyone. I couldn't do it for myself. And I had no more roles to play. Then came you, and I decided to help you change, be there for you, stop you from being a Death-Eater- but you left. And finally, I had no more roles to play. None at all. You have no idea how miserable it is. How lonely it is."

She was clutching him with all her strength.

"Please don't go. Don't leave me. Like them. Don't leave me."

They suck us dry till there's nothing left
My oh my, my oh my

Draco patted her back gently as he tried to calm her.

"I can't, Hermione. I'm bound. I promised him, Hermione. I can't take it back now."

She looked up at him, eyes red, cheeks slightly puffy. She gazed into his eyes and suddenly pushed him back.

"You're just like the rest," she whispered harshly as she moved away from him, "You're never going to be there."

"Hermione, I--"

A high-pitched shriek interrupted his sentence. Instinctively, both Draco and Hermione turned and looked at the entrance. Screams and shouts followed after, and someone was pounding on the portrait. Hermione rushed forward to open the entrance.

"Hermione, no!" Draco grabbed her from the waist and pulled her back.

She struggled in his grasp. "Let me go! I need to help! Let me go! I'm going to play my part!"

"They're out there, if I let you go, you're going to be killed!"

"So be it. Just let me go!"

You keep watching from your picket fence
You keep talking but it makes no sense

You say we're not responsible
But we are, we are

Draco held her as tight as he could. He wasn't about to let her go out there. The pounding on the portrait had stopped, but the screams were still echoing around the bathroom. Hermione stopped struggling, and he loosen his grip slightly.

She pulled away from him, punched him, and ran out of the room before he could even respond.

He saw her running through the corpse-filled hallway.

"Hermione!" He cried as he ran after her, avoiding the bodies strewn on the floor.

Hermione ran as fast as she could, glancing at every dead body on the floor. She recognized Luna Lovegood, and Colin Creevey on the floor. She gripped her wand tighter and stopped when she saw her first target.

Lucius Malfoy had his back faced towards her.

You wash your hands and come out clean
Fail to recognise the enemies within
You say we're not responsible
But we are, we are, we are, we are

Draco skidded to a stop when he saw his father on the ground staring at him. His face was frozen as if he had been petrified, but he knew better, his father was dead. Draco stared at the body, feeling remorse for the man he called father. It was a shame they never really did get to bond with each other. Draco sneered at the body before continuing to search for Hermione.

As he ran, he realized that there were bodies of Death-Eaters on the floor with the students. At the fourth hallway, he realized that there were more of them than of the students.

"Avada Kedavra," he heard the cold, familiar voice say.

He turned left, towards the voice, and was horrified to find Hermione standing over the body of Pansy Parkinson.

"Hermione! What the bloody hell are you doing?"

She turned he head to face him, her eyes stilling his body alone.

"Don't stop me, Malfoy. Or I'll kill you too."

Hermione kicked the corpse aside before walking down the hallway, looking for her next victim.

Draco stood there, frozen at the spot. Her eyes, killer's eyes.

What about the world today
What about the place that we call home

"Flagrate."

She watched as the flaming cross hit the Death-Eater.

"Crucio."

The other Death-Eater twitched in pain, wordlessly screaming.

"Reducto."

The third Death-Eater slammed against the wall, blood dripping from his forehead.

"Avada Kedavra."

Bellatrix Lestrange took her last breath before slumping on the floor.

We've never been so many
And we've never been so alone.... so alone

She walked woodenly into the Great Hall, where she found Dumbledore dead, at Voldemort's feet.

"Potter's Mudblood."

She nodded in recognition.

"Half-blood."

Voldemort raised his wand towards her.

"What did you call me?"

"Half-blood. You're worse than me. A pureblood with a muggle. Even the muggle did not want your mother."

It's all about power then (we are)
Take control (we are)

"Avada Kedavra."

Breaking the rule
Breaking the soul

Hermione had expected it, and willingly, she stood in the way, embracing the joy of finally resting in peace. Except that it never did hit her. She opened her eyes and found Draco falling forward on the ground.

"Draco! Draco? Draco!" She shook the body violently, knowing yet not accepting the fact that he was dead. She clutched the body towards her, not noticing how heavy it was. She was sobbing into him, willing him to awake.

They suck us dry till there's nothing left
My oh my, my oh my

"You! You did it!" she said angrily.

She pointed her wand to where Voldemort was, or where he had been.

He was gone, vanished.

She stared at the spot he had been at.

We are
We are (its all )
We are

And she realized what had happened. Voldemort had made the same mistake he had made with Harry years ago. And now she had the same protection Harry had had.

She sunk slowly to her knees, lying over Draco's body, pressing her face against his unbeating chest.

We are, we are (take control)
We are
We are

"I'm essential now, Draco. He'll come back, I know he will. Then I'll kill him. I'm essential now, and I'll kill him," she whispered to him.

It's all about power
Then take control