~ Hey it's Emily. I own nothing you recognize. Sorry bout this one, I was a lil sadistically depressed. ~
She stood at the edge of the forest, looking in. Harry had disappeared in there some hours after the final battle. A deep sadness filled her for her dead friends. She was a muggleborn, a mudblood, but it mattered not anymore. She looked behind her at the chaos that still gripped her home-away-from-home. This time, it was a good chaos, not the slaughtering that had captivated it before. Almost all the younger Weasleys were dead. Fred. Ron. Ginny. Percy. Not to mention Luna. Ernie. Neville. Hermione hung her head. Hagrid. Snape. McGonagall. There was nothing here for her anymore. The one person that mattered anymore had wandered away into the Forbidden Forest. A tear streaked down her face, cutting a path through the mingled blood, sweat, and dirt. She bravely held back a sob. She reflected on her life so far. She had given up everything. Her education, her parents, her school, her friends….love. And now it was all for not. She had only one thing left. Who knows where he is now? The thought of losing him as well was almost too much for the drained witch. She gasped and leaned against the nearest tree. She chanted to herself to get a grip, pull herself together. He was still out there. He was the Boy Who Survived. There was hope….There was always hope. With this thought in her head, she pulled herself up and took several uneasy steps into the forest.
Hermione trudged on. She had survived. 7 long years had been devoted to this boy and she sure as hell wasn't going to let him go now. She smiled, and remembered some of their adventures. They sped behind her eyes in fast forward, and up to the time when she fancied herself in love with her raven haired best friend. She chuckled; of course she did, he was the only guy she saw for almost 3 months when they were trying to survive. Startled out of her revere, she saw a centaur canter past. Another shot past. 2 more. 5 more. All running to a central place an acre or so ahead of her. She picked up her pace until she was sprinting with all her might. In a clearing, Harry stood, helpless, as Bellatrix, who miraculously managed to survive, pointed her wand at his chest, a compuzzled look adoring her crazed features.
Draco also sauntered out of the woods. It took all of Hermione's impressive will not to kill him on the spot. He circled around Harry, taunting, simpering. Both men knew who the stronger wizard was, yet he made no move to protect himself. Harry looked up at the two with deadened eyes. The sight of the lifeless former gems was enough to rip a sob from her chest. Harry looked up at the sound; called her name, smiled at the realization Hermione was alive, but too late. The previously wanted green bolt of light from the tip of the madwoman's wand hit the hero in the chest, causing him to cave. The brunette wailed. The sound was utter pain, anguish, and inhuman. Racing to the crumpled boy, she glared, daring, begging with her pools of liquid chocolate to finish the job. Unnerved, the platinum blonde raised his wand, and stammered out the fatal curse. Hermione smiled, reached towards some invisible being only she could see, and fell. The disturbed aunt grabbed a hold on the quaking nephew and apparated out of the woods.
That night, the stars cried, the animals wailed, and the wizarding world bowed its head at the terrible loss of the last great generation.
The bodies of the two friends were never recovered, guarded by the centaurs forevermore.