You Can't Reparo A Broken Heart

Chapter One

I turned my eyes to Neville, the closest to the narrow slit of a window. His once rotund and puffed face thin and drawn. I saw in him the shades of grey we all had- but the most easy to see on Neville- the shades of grey from having to do despicable things and not have enough time to give remorse. Especially his eyes. His eyes told it all. We belong to Neville Longbottom. We are nineteen years old. We lost our grandmother. Neville has never looked in the mirror at us again.

Tentatively, he pulled his nose, and a ghastly chill came through me when I heard a crack and a moan as he pulled it furtively back into place, blood now once again running freely.

"Episkey," I whispered.

I craned my eyes to Luna. I smiled a half-smile when I realised how close we were now, how we had confided in each other of our darkest thoughts in the moments when we didn't think they could get any blacker. Her purple hair and near charred arms may have looked intimidating to anyone else, but to me, they showed her true character, and it was wonderful. Quietly brave. Vibrant.

Lastly, my eyes to Draco. While still holding grudges to people of my heritage, he still at least acted civil- it was the least you could hope for out of him. Snide undercuts and joking was how he was these days. I supposed I could live with that. It'd do.
Nevertheless, prejudice aside, he was a good person, and a valuable and trusting person underneath his prickly and grinding nature. Draco returned my deep gaze with a slight nod, licking his lips, perspiration flowing down his translucent face.

"Hermione?" it wasn't a question, more of an insistence.

I turned my head sharply, towards Harry's voice. "Yes," I said resignedly, like talking to a toddler. "I'm ready. We can do this. It's simple. Like breathing; in and out... yeah? Just don't forget whoever's last to burn the ladder- it's a long way down."

Hastily, as Neville pointed at the sky now filled with broomsticks and Death Eaters, all of us in almost perfect synchronization yelled, "Wingardium Leviosa!

Three fell like flies.

I swung the broken barricade down the stairs, swishing my wand wrist to make sure it hit as much of the staircase as it could muster; the more obstacles the better -every second counts-while simultaneously, Neville , Luna and Draco all burst from behind me from the emerald green velvet curtains covering the window.

"Come on, Hermione!" Urged Luna, halfway down the ladder, waiting and pausing to say almost excitedly but still at a Luna pace, "we haven't got enough time to let the wrackspurts jump about-"

A tumult from behind me almost drew me to break into a run. But I held my ground. "Go, Luna," I said coldly.

I could hear them. They were here.
I gave Luna a second to respond, but I snapped at the idea of her trying to stop me.
"Go now!" I yelled with venom. There was no other way. She wouldn't listen otherwise.

Cruel to be kind, Hermione.

Her purple plaited hair swivelled around in the air, I imagined it wafting the earthy 'Luna' smell I loved. I might've heard her stifle a whimper, but without enough time for me to question, she scarpered down the ladder, skipping rungs at frantic paces, until gradually, the echoing got quieter and quieter and then Luna was gone.

"So just me and you," said Harry simply. "We can hold them. You'll see. We'll hold them."

He sounded so assured. A little child telling you everthing is going to be okay. I stared at Harry fixedly. It was hard. I looked away.

His face was so sure.
"You go too, then." I murmured. And that venom came back, strengthened with bravery I didn't have. Harry's body merged, and he was gone too.

I'm entirely alone.

But why didn't anyone stop me? They could've stopped me. I would've listened.
Hermione knew she wouldn't have listened.

"No-one can stop me, Hermione Jean Granger," said a high, cold voice behind her. "You've witnessed that first-hand."

I was so used to bowing at his presence- it was a reflex, the air around Voldemort so full of heavy powerful magic it would pull me down either way, but now I held my ground, tall, proud, scared. All that time ago, you never willingly did it, you'd just … and your head inclined slightly. Submissive. Your mind recognizing the superior magic wielder in the room.

"They'll stop you." I said with the smuggest face I had, because I knew they could. They had all the weapons at their command, all the brains and all the things they needed. Even without me. At this thought, slowly, I tried to channel Luna and make my expression almost serene. Above this.

He spat at my feet. "Dirty little mudblood, thinking you can talk in a Lord's presence..."

"When I see a Lord worthy of respecting, then I will" I retorted, grasping the thin wood in my sleeve. Any moment now, he'll take it, any moment.

He hissed in a breath and you could see him waiting to see how they were going to react. They did with catcalls. But I could feel the hostility and the gaze of their shadowed eyes bore into me.

His throng of admiring Death Eaters sniggered louder as the ringmaster turned to the audience. This was when I noticed their wands were not brandished. Why are their wands not brandished? Aren't they expecting me to bravely fight back?

"We know you have the information Hermione Granger, so we will spare your life, if you give it to us."

No, you won't.
shook my head, not daring to find out what he would do if I spoke again.

His colourless face twisted for a split second with rage, but he held it in and widened his eyes and his smile instead, as he approached step by wicked step. "No matter, Granger. We have ways other than merely asking to help loosen your tongue..."

Suddenly, I felt a buzzing, and a... there was no other way to explain: a squashing feeling in my head.

He's trying to read my mind.

"Protego!" I yelled in vain, as Voldemort countered, still looming slowly eerily closer, closer, closer, so close I could see the sparse hairs in his thin slitted nostrils, breathing in and out. Easy.

"You're still human," I said, with bravado, more to the Death Eaters than anything. "And for that-"
Without warning, not that I'd give it him, I flung a lasso of fire around my feet, wielding my wand high around my head as the Death Eaters got theirs out with quick flourishes.
To give me time.

I transformed.
The last thing the dumbstruck Death Eaters saw was a phoenix shoot out of the sky and a bright jet of light following me.

The last thing I felt was a lightning hot bolt of pain and black as dark as the look in Neville's eyes.

Make it count.