Well met.
This is the companion to my other fic, 'Damned.'
Someone suggested that I write Hermione's side of the story, so here it is.
If you haven't read 'Damned,' ah well. You'll still get the idea.
If you did read it, though, that'd be cool with me.
You can probably tell I'm feeling a little angsty, though. Emo. Blech.

If I owned it, it wouldn't be called fanfiction.

Dear Harry and Ron,

I don't expect you to believe me. No, I truly don't, Ron, and that's not meant to be a slight on your fragile male ego or your intelligence, or occasional lack thereof.

I'm going to blame your probable disbelief on the fact that you both are suspicious people by nature, and since you are under the impression that I have a personality and a will equal to Percy, just a better attitude, you will probably come to the conclusion that I have either been slipped some sort of potion rendering me a servant of the Dark, or that I have been subjected to the Imperius Curse.

And that's a fair assessment. Also juvenile, and asinine. I've been 'Bookworm Hermione' for so long that I doubt you've noticed that I do have a mind of my own and have been known to exercise it occasionally.

I did this for me. You probably won't understand what I mean, for you've both had your heads so far up your self-important asses so long you probably can't see through the shit.

I'm tired of being used. And shut your mouth, Ronald, you know exactly what I'm talking about! You of all people should understand what I'm talking about, you were the source of most of my problems, both in school and during these long months of war.

And I'm finally over it.

Harry, I know you probably won't understand this most of anybody. You'll huddle down under a wall of self-pity, moaning about betrayal and desertion, and allow the Dark to win. You'll think that because I've done this, made this choice, than I surely must not care about you or Ron. And believe it or not, I'm doing you a favor.

You wouldn't be able to control me if you'd done those enchantments. I would turn on you as well. Perhaps not immediately, but I would get my revenge.

And it's not like I could have blended back into Muggle society, not with the magical blood and the enchantments you lot cast on me running through my veins. My parents are dead - I couldn't live with them, obviously. And I would hate you.

And this is the only solution we could think of. I admit it's not ideal, but at least it's a solution. And think about it - by the time you read this letter, another scummy Death Eater is dead, and another is probably being killed presently for letting this happen.

Draco didn't know directly, but we got the potion from him. Blaise told him that it was needed for a raid. Voldemort will probably kill him when he finds out that he let the Mudblood and the Zabini boy die.

So there you go - one dead and one probably dead Death Eater. Just what you wanted, right?

As I read through this, I notice I've used the word 'probably' several times. But those probably's belong to you. I have definitely's. I definitely wanted to do this, and I definitely don't regret it.

I love you both, but I'm tired of being used.

Anyway, I hope you figure this out before its too late. Or you destroy yourselves.

Love,

Hermione

Like I said, I'm sure you've gotten the idea.
Slightly AU, slight OOCness. Not too heinous a crime, though, I think.
It messes up Jo's epilogue, though, since I killed off one of the main characters.
Anyway, thanks for reading.
Any chance of a review?