Hermione sat silently amid the charred ruins of what had once been the premier wizarding school in England

Hermione sat silently amid the charred ruins of what had once been the premier wizarding school in England. Still-smoldering embers cast an ever-changing pattern of blood red light and shadow over her face, and wind-whipped ashes stuck to the tear stains under her eyes. Once, Hogwarts had been an oasis of peace and happiness amid a turbulent world plagued by Voldemort's treachery, but ultimately, nothing could remain free from his influence. Now, the school was a mockery of its former self, desolate, devastated, and destroyedjust like her life.

It seemed like eons since she had been happy, though in reality it had been less than two weeks. Two weeks since Harry had gone off to fight Voldemort and hadn't returned. Less than one week since she and Ron had left on their ill-fated quest to save him, only to be captured themselves by the Death Eatersand to discover that it was already too late for their closest friend.

Voldemort hadn't even bothered to execute them. After having defeated the boy who lived,' he knew he had nothing to fear from insignificant nobodies like Ron and Hermione. Instead, he just threw them in the dungeon, promising that they'd be allowed to live long enough to watch him finally claim all the power he had worked so long for.

Sitting in the smoky, pre-dawn chill, Hermione reflected on the vagaries of fate. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the stunningly abrupt swings her life had taken. Two weeks ago she had been safe and happy, with the love of her life in her arms. Suddenly, he was killed, she was imprisoned, and just a hair's breadth away from her own death. In fact, it was just last night, when she had almost resigned herself to her fate, that it had taken yet another inconceivable twist.

8 hours earlier.

Hogwarts Dungeon

Hermione heard the approaching footsteps as if through a haze. She didn't even raise her eyes from the floor, too lost in her own misery to care that these may very well be her last moments on earth. Ron, with his typical intensity, jumped to his feet and gripped the iron bars of their cell.

"Looks like your time has come, Weasley," sneered the guard. "They're coming for you."

"Shut up!" Ron snarled. "I'll wring your stupid neck or die trying!"

A deep laugh rumbled through the dungeon. Even benumbed Hermione gasped as Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the shadows. "So you shall, my boy," he chuckled, "so you shall. And Potter's little mud-blood slut too. I've come to escort you to the banquet. Lord Voldemort desires your presence when he claims his rightful place as Emperor over all wizards. Perhaps he'll even grant you the mercy of a quick deathif you beg." Lucius snickered at Ron's enraged expression. "Unlock the door," he instructed the guard, "I'll take them up."

As soon as the key turned in the lock, Ron shoved against the door, too angry and desperate to pass up the slightest chance of escape. The surprised guard fell back, but before Ron even cleared the doorway, a blast from Lucius Malfoy's wand hurled him backwards against the stone walls of the dungeon. He slumped to the floor, unconscious. Hermione looked in horror from Ron to Lucius and back again.

"Don't worry," said Lucius, "The little fool isn't dead – not just yet. Will you come quietly?"

Hermione nodded, and followed him as he levitated Ron down the hall. Within minutes they reached the great hall that had once been the very heart of Hogwarts. Hermione wanted to cry for what had become of the school, but found she had no tears left. Death Eaters filled the room, along with an almost palpable evil. In front of them Lord Voldemort sat enthroned.

"I have brought the prisoners, my Lord," announced Lucius, dropping the unconscious Ron to the ground.

"Lucius," said Voldemort, "you have been my most loyal follower. I assure you, your reward is finally at hand." His gaze turned to Hermione. "Mud-blood," he spat, "I have defeated Potter. Your one and only hope is gone. Perhaps you would like to throw yourself on my mercy."

Somehow, Hermione managed to find her voice. She refused to meet her end like a coward. "I will not."

Voldemort smileda gruesome, depraved smile. "I thought not." He turned to his right, and only then did Hermione notice the man standing beside him. "Draco, would you like to do the honors?"

Draco Malfoy stepped forward. In the years since they had graduated he had changed immeasurably. Gone was the small, thin, petulant boythe annoyance of their school-age years. In his place was a tall, powerfully built man whose every movement seemed laden with confidence and purpose. "I'd love to," he said.

He took out his wand and approached her, only to stop abruptly after a few steps. He turned back to the Dark Lord. "Are you sure you aren't celebrating precipitously?" he asked, the words seeming to hold some inscrutable meaning, "Are you sure they don't have friends waiting to attack?"

Voldemort grinned. "Why should I be worried about some paltry group of wizards?" he asked. "What could they do to me? I have killed Harry Potter, the boy who lived'! Who would dare to stand against me?"

Draco gave a strange, cold smile. "Who indeed?" he replied as he turned back to Hermione. She gazed back steadily into his steel gray eyes. Be brave,' she told herself.

"Avada" he yelled. Hermione closed her eyes, cursing herself for a coward.

"Kedavra!"

Hermione heard a loud noise, then nothing. Was she dead? She slowly opened her eyes

Author's Note: This is my first fanfic. Please review and let me know if I should continue the story.