PROLOGUE.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.

Hermione ran across the battlefield. Death was all around her-on the floor, still and lifeless. Soaring through the air in multicoloured jets of light. It's fucking everywhere, the stench of it. Hermione hated it.

But this was what the final battle looked like. The showdown between Light, Dark, and everything in between. All around her, witches and wizards dueled with every ounce of magic in them. Stray curses flew through the air, sparking and crackling. The less fortunate were caught unaware and hit while they weren't paying attention, sending them sprawling.

No one was paying her any heed, too busy fighting their own battles. That was good, because Hermione didn't want any attention. She didn't have time to fight right now. Her main and only objective (other than not dying) was to find Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. Her best friend. Conveniently, he was nowhere to be seen. Brilliant.

Hermione was tired. She was just so tired, and frustrated, and all she wanted was for this fucking day to end. Honestly, fuck Voldemort, and fuck Death Eaters. Fuck everything-

"HARRY!" She screamed. Her voice was cracked and desperate, breaking apart just like the last shreds of hope she was clinging onto for her dear life. But unsurprisingly, there was no answer. Just the yells and incantations of everyone locked in combat around her.

Letting out a sigh, Hermione ran a head through her unkempt mane of hair. There was just so much going on right now, and it all seemed...surreal. It couldn't really be happening. She allowed her eyes to shut for a few brief seconds before opening them again with renewed vigor. She was going to find Harry. She took a step forward, determination blazing in her mocha-colored eyes, when-

"Petrificus Totalus!" A sharp, high-pitched voice trilled. Hermione's body froze against her will, dropping to the ground unceremoniously with a painful thunk.

But the throbbing pain in her head from the fall wasn't the problem. No, compared to what was happening to right now, she wouldn't even call it a nuisance. The real problem in front of her was who had paralyzed her, the fucking psychopath Death Eater who was head-over-heels in love with Voldemort. Because Hermione could never have forgotten her voice, even if she wished. Oh, and how she wished.

The scars on her arm tingled.

Bellatrix Lestrange bent over Hermione's immobilized body, a smug smirk planted firmly on her face because she knew she was fully in control. Hermione was glad she was petrified, because she was about to lose it.

"Awwwww," The older woman crouched down to Hermione and stroked her chin with a long fingernail. get away, get away, get away, get away

"Itty-bitty Hermione's in twubble, isn't she?" She simpered. how could i have been so careless? this can't be happening

"You really thought you had gotten away with it, don't you, Mudblood? Crucio!" With one word, Hermione's body and every fibre of her being was on fire, burning and caving in on itself. Her eyes squeezed shut and fat tears started pouring out, and she didn't care that Bellatrix could see her crying because all she wanted to do was scream and cry. She'd be writhing in pain and begging for it to stop if she could, and the fact that she couldn't made it all the more painful.

Suddenly, it stopped. Hermione was still sobbing, quietly. Hot tears streaked from her eyes down her face, and Hermione could see Bellatrix's face twist into something akin to sympathy (fake, of course) through the blurriness of her tears.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Bellatrix said softly. "You should know that you deserve every second of this, and more. You are a worthless being on this planet. You don't belong. Do you know that?" Hermione couldn't do anything but whimper. Bellatrix waved her wand and suddenly Hermione could move her head.

"P...please…" she gasped. "...no...more…"

"Do you want me to kill you?" She said it as casually as she would ask someone out for lunch. Hermione's eyes widened, and she shook her head casually, an unintelligible string of words coming from her mouth.

"Don't worry, dearie. I won't kill you," Bellatrix quipped, her mouth twisting into a maniacal grin and her eyes gleaming. "I'll send you somewhere that you'll never come back from."

The next moments were a blur. A wand was pressed to her forehead. Bellatrix said a funny incantation Hermione had never heard before, before a flash of yellow light enveloped her and she felt herself falling.

I don't want to die…

Everything went black.

September 1st, 1943

Professor Horace Slughorn was taking a walk outside of Hogwarts, enjoying the momentary peace and quiet before the inevitable return of students for the upcoming year of school. He is admiring a rather intriguing assortment of plants near the Forbidden Forest when he hears a strange whoosh in front of him and a girl's body drops right onto the ground, crushing the vegetation beneath her.

"Merlin's-" He gasps, stumbling backwards. Once he has gotten over the initial shock, he musters up the strength to take a closer look.

She seems to be an older student in Gryffindor, dressed in school robes. But Slughorn doesn't ever recall seeing someone who looked like this before. Additionally, she seems to be paralyzed and unconscious. Very strange, indeed.

Cutting his walk short, Slughorn casts a Patronus to the matron, Dumbledore, and to Headmaster Dippet.

"Perhaps Albus will have some insight into this...strange situation," he mutters, before levitating the student's body and heading off back to the school.

So much for peace and quiet.