As Hermione walked through the halls of Hogwarts, staring at the devastation that had now taken over the castle, she felt nothing. She was numb. She could not believe what was happening. She knew she should cry, but had no more tears left inside her. When she had realised that all her friends had died, she had cried more than it should be humanly possible to. But now there was nothing. She was an empty shell, there was surely no more pain she could suffer. Ever.

She continued walking, stepping over the poor people that had died to try and save Hogwarts. She saw the dead death-eaters too, and she could not bring herself to hate them. They were dead now, and they were only pawns, pieces on a chess set to be moved to suit the players needs, and to sacrifice if need be.

She decided to go up to her dormatory. To sleep. Sleep the pain away. She was sure that there must be some survivors, but she had not found one while wandering the castle. Maybe they had fled, or lay injured in some dark corner she had not found. She no longer had the strength to find them.

As she looked down at the faces of the d ead that she came across frequently, she found that she envied them. How she wanted to simply cease to exist no one could ever know. To just sink into the infinite darkness that she assumed was death. And never to have to face a world where all her friends and family were dead.

She got to the portrait hole. The fat lady had been torn off the wall and slashed into oblivion. Hermione hoped she had had time to run to another portrait.

She climbed through the hole, and stared into the dark common room. Where just over a year ago her and Harry and Ron had sat, mourning Dumbledores death. How long ago that seemed. Like a 100 years. She climbed the stairs to the girl dormatory, thinking wryly that no one cared what dormatory she slept in now. As she walked in to the room, ready to sleep, sleep for days. Weeks. Months. Forever. Just so as to avoid facing the world ever again. But before she could sink into the soft sheets, something stopped her in her tracks.

There on the floor, it's face contorted in pain, was Crookshanks. His body was rigid and still, and it was obvious that someone had tortured him with the cruciatus curse before using the killing curse.

Hermione stepped back, reeling in shock and anger. Suddenly something broke inside her, something she had only just realised was there. Her last vestige of hope. Her very last feeling deep down that everything could be all right. She screamed. It was a tortured scream, a scream that if anyone heard it it would haunt them to their grave. Even after everything they had done, they had killed Crookshanks. They had not even left her that. It was the last straw, a sign that this world was utterly cruel, so cruel she could not bare it.

She sank to her knees, tears flowing as they had never flown before in her life. She caught Crookshanks cold body into her hands and manipulated his legs so that it looked almost as if he was sitting on her lap, as he always did. Stopping her from completing her homework, the way he would scratch her all the time, but she had always known that he had loved her. And she had loved him, the moment he decended on Rons head in that pet shop all those years ago. But they had killed him too. Along with all the others, they had killed him. No mercy, no hope. Just death. Life was so unfair, killing those who deserved it least.

No. Life was not unfair. Nor was it cruel. It was all HIS fault. That evil, twisted, BASTARD had done this. He had killed her friends. People that were practically her family. Her pet. He had ruined her life. And thousands of others. Just because he fancied himself 'powerful' or some crap. He was still out there, ready to take over the world. All these people were dead, Crookshanks was dead. All because of him.

She felt anger coarsing through her veins. How she would like to get revenge on him. It consumed her. She no longer wanted to sleep. She would not give up. If she was the only survivor, she would keep going. At least until she had done something. But what could she do? Voldemort was much to powerful for her to even try to kill. He would simply order one of his death eaters to go and 'dispose of the mudblood'. If she could even find him. She got up, settling Crookshanks dead body on the end of her bed where he used to sleep. Whatever she did, there was no way of bringing back her friends and family. Her parents were in Australia, and although she knew where to find them she didn't want to cause them more pain by reappearing. They were happier without her. Safer without her.

Or was there? Was there a way of bringing them all back? Of making it so that none of this ever happened? Excitment rushed through Hermione, causing her to jump up from where she had been sitting on the bed and pace round the room agitatedly. Could it work? Was there a tiny chance it could work?

Hermione was not stupid in any sense of the word. She knew that one wrong move and the world could be ruined. But wasn't it already ruined? Surely only the wizarding world would be effected, and that was so much in ruins already that it hardly mattered.

'Think!' she thought to herself. 'One wrong move and you could cease to exist.'

'But do I care?' She thought sadly. It would be a relief to simply not exist, to have never been. And what did it matter if Harry and Ron and her friends also disappeared? They were already dead, killed by the few deatheaters that had remained. They had done their very best to wreak as much havoc as they could before they left, killing as many as they could. Soon they would be back. They had not realised that she had survived, as Harry had given her his invisibility cloak before he died so that she could hide away. He had cared so much.

She made up her mind. She would do it. She had to.

The idea had taken hold somewhere in her brain. It had given her a feeling that perhaps, somehow, there was a way out of this miserable, empty situation. That maybe there was a way to get her friends back. She knew that it would probably fail, but she also knew that if she didn't try she would be tortured her whole life with the feeling that perhaps, if she had only tried...

She ran along the corridors, and up the stairs, the direction she knew so well. She reached Dumbledores office within 5 minutes. She stopped, panting, in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the place that Dumbledore had occupied for so long, that Harry had spent so many long hours in... No. Don't think about that. Think of the plan.

The gargoyle that she knew was hiding Dumbledores office was staring at her, a little sadly she thought.

She opened her mouth to attempt to guess the password, but before she could speak the gargoyle moved aside to let her pass...

She looked at it in surprise, but the gargoyle merely continued staring at her sadly. She walked through the entrance to the stairs, still looking at the gargoyle. 'Thank you.' she murmured under her breath.

She started running. She ran up the spiral staircase as fast as she could, and shoved the door open unceremoniously.

'Professor Dumbledore!' she shouted.

'I've been expecting you.' said a voice coming from the leftmost wall.

Authors note:

Yay! First chapter! Super excited about this one. PLEASE, if you are reading this, please please PLEASE REVIEW, it is the only that keeps me going in my stories. Even if you didn't like it, tell me why. :) I implore you just write something XD