The ruins of a fourth-floor corridor were all she could see. Broken shards of glass which had rained down over her lay at her feet and the small cuts they had inflicted were ignored. Small rivers of scarlet blood were staining her shirt, her skin and hair. The dust and dirt of the makeshift battlefield swirled in the shaft of moonlight flooding in from the broken window, illuminating the bleeding witch, but she made no effort to move.

Dull, heavy footfalls echoed off the stone walls as two men rounded the corner, catching sight of the girl who had her back to them. Her shoulders were slumped as she stared down at the crumpled body at her feet. The death eaters shared a grin, knowing they had stumbled unwittingly upon Potter's right-hand woman, a fierce fighter who had her back turned. Attempting to slow his breathing, Travers motioned to Yaxley and the two men, with the wands, outstretched split off, each to one side of the large corridors' perimeter, determined to destroy Harry Potter's infamous lifeline.

Hermione Granger's wild curls were matted with blood and rubble, blowing slightly in the breeze that was coming from the broken window to her right. The Black Lake was mirroring the full moon and starry sky, but all she could focus on was the battered body of a second year laying crumpled on the floor. The boy's brown eyes were glassy and unfixed and besides the wound on his neck, he was unharmed. His uniform was rumpled and his Ravenclaw tie had been ripped from his collar into tatty pieces. Hermione's sight was transfixed on the bloody bite wound and the boy's exposed trachea. She was glad he was dead, and the nausea she felt in the pit of her stomach was not from the gore but from the thought of what his future might have looked like had he survived.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and Hermione's attention was diverted from the child. The two men were less than five meters away, waiting to cast the worst spells in their arsenal but Hermione was quicker than the wizards. She turned on her heel and the men froze. There was a golden flash in her honey eyes and the dark wizards could do nothing. Wandless magic was something neither of them possessed the ability to complete, whereas their opponent was skilled in the advanced art. Still furious at the fate of the boy at her feet, Hermione's emotions were teetering on the edge and her magic was crackling like static electricity in the air around her, making her skin itch uncomfortably.

A savage look had taken over the Gryffindor and her wand was in her hand, the killing curse falling from her lips with a slight scream. The intense power of her magic combined with the significance of the battle caused her spell to manifest and grow, detonating in a cloud of white-hot energy. In hindsight, Hermione would be grateful that she had been found in a remote and practically empty part of the castle because her curse had exploded with such a force that she had been knocked back and wiped out the rest of the glass in the windows, and obliterating the two masked men.

Bolting upright in her small bed, Hermione Granger's chest was heaving as the remnants of her nightmare finally slipped away. Perspiration was making her thin nightdress cling to her clammy body and she groaned, screwing her eyes closed as she wrestled her way out of the thick quilt. Ginny Weasley was sleeping peacefully in the bed opposite, but Hermione could just make out the bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion on the nightstand through the moonlight.

The brunette had had the same recurring nightmare since the Dark Lord's demise three weeks previously. Hermione and Remus Lupin had spent three months researching the locations of the Horcruxes and with diaries and memories belonging to Dumbledore, Trelawny and the defected Snape, the pair had located them all in just months, much faster than anyone had been expecting. Hermione had been aided with information from multiple members of the Dark Side who had turned to the light, but one of her main sources came in the form of Pansy Parkinson.

However, before Pansy had defected, the Order's first Slytherins had been Daphne Greengrass and her sister Astoria who had been enrolled by McGonagall just over a year ago. Daphne had seen her mother murdered at the hand of her father and had pleaded with the Professor to join the order and to save her sister. The blonde sisters had been welcomed hesitantly but Hermione and Ginny had ignored the hostility between the girls and the rest of the Order and the four had roomed together on the top floor of Grimmauld Place.

Astoria had made a necessary trip to Diagon Alley alone six months before Pansy had turned up and had met a gruesome demise.

Mad-Eye Moody had investigated the death and deducted that a death eater, there at the right time had seen the girl and abducted her, taking her back to her father who made sure Astoria wouldn't return. Her body, with its tongue removed and a shallow, but cursed stab wound had been found in the middle of Diagon Alley three days later. The death of her sister had affected Daphne in a way that changed her completely. Once a shy, introverted girl who wanted to avoid conflict, Daphne had transformed into a true Slytherin. She could be cruel, manipulative and vindictive, but her strategic mind was focused on ending the Dark Side, with her alliance truly tied to the Light.

Hermione and Daphne had undertaken an extensive Healing course and could have had jobs at Mungo's had the war not taken place. Anybody who was injured was sent to the girls and they had trained themselves in all aspects of magical healing, from common curses and spells to broken spines and fractured skulls, the girls could heal them in a blink of an eye due to their ability to learn quickly and their seemingly never-ending supply of patients to practice on.

The use of darker curses had slowly become more common and with research and commitment, the two had been able to cure some of the most poisonous wounds, and their efforts had been rewarded in the form of Pansy.

The dark haired girl had shown up in the arms of Sirius Black one night; unconscious, poisoned and dying. Her friends Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini had been right behind her, both bloody and exhausted as the party stumbled into Grimmauld Place, with Sirius shouting for Hermione and Daphne as he barreled through the hallway into the front room. Arthur Weasley was the only other member awake at four in the morning and had helped summon all of the healing equipment in the house as he placed her down onto one of the sofas in the first-floor drawing room.

The commotion caused by Sirius had been enough to rouse the entire house and soon Harry had arrived, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he took in the situation. The Boy Who Lived had come to terms with Daphne but three other Slytherins turning up out of the blue had put him on the defensive, his wand out in front of him as he was pushed aside by the two witches.

"Oh knock it off Harry, she's no harm," chastised Sirius as he rose to his feet from next to the sofa where he had placed the small girl. Harry blinked and his arm dropped, his faith in his Godfather outweighing his uneasy distrust of the new guests.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" demanded Daphne as she finally made her way into the room, wrapping a blue cotton dressing gown around her thin frame. Theodore Nott made a strangled sound and appeared out of nowhere in front of his childhood friend, pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Daphne squeaked into his chest as Blaise Zabini crushed her from her back, wrapping his arms around her and clasping his hands around Theo's back.

"I thought you'd died Daph, we heard about Storie and..." Blaise trailed off, glancing at Hermione who had been running diagnostic spells and administering pain potions to the prone Pansy. The simple motion had steeled Daphne back to her Healer self once more and she wriggled out of the boys' grip to join Hermione at the side of the sofa.

"I mean it, Theo, what happened? Why are you here? What happened?"

"Hasn't McGonagall told you all?"