Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Everything in this one-shot belongs to the wonderful author J. K. Rowling except maybe the plot.
A Life not Worth Living
The bedraggled woman stood with silent tears running down her now bony cheeks. She was plagued with the thought of what was to come. Too men stood beside her, firmly clutching her frail arms.
Her name was Hermione Granger. She had been kept captive in Voldemort's lair for endless days and nights with only enough food and water to stay just barely alive. Now the order had tried to free her but unfortunately they had failed.
Everyone was killed...murdered, everyone that is except her fiancé, Ron Weasley and the boy who lived, Harry Potter. They now stood on the other side of the dungeon also grasped tightly by deatheaters.
Fear and anguish was gripping tightly at her heart and depression was killing at her soul. Hermione ventured a glance at her friends. She couldn't believe that it was happening; the order had been crushed...vanquished and now all hope was lost.
When they returned her gaze, Hermione looked straight at Ron and mouthed the words, "I love you." After a moment he returned it with a slight nod. He looked as if he had seen a spider, no even worse than that. Harry stood beside Ron, tall and proud most likely hiding all his fear inside of him.
Hermione yearned to nestle her head on their shoulders. She longed to have a civilized conversation with someone...anyone. Being alone and isolate for so long had begun to wreck her sanity.
The next thing she knew, Voldemort had come in, his black robes sweeping the damp floor and his red eyes glinting gallantly from underneath the hood of his onyx cloak.
A tremble of terror filled Hermione, causing her to give a violent.
One of the Dark Lord's servants walked up to his master and held out a gun...a muggle weapon. Why? Hermione thought but that question was answered right away. It was because of Priori Incantium.
Voldemort took it out of the deatheater's hand and fired the gun at Ron. The bullet shot straight through his shoulder.
Hermione froze in shock, dumbfounded, watching her fiancé's blood pour out of the wound and drench his shirt. His dead body fell onto the ground with a big thump. Then, almost instantaneously, she wrenched herself from the deatheaters' grasp despite her weak condition and ran over to her beloved's body.
Tears streamed down her face as if they were torrents of rain. She held Ron close to her. Hermione stared in to the blank eyes of her dead fiancé, no longer were they the happy cheerful ones they had often been before.
"No... please," she sobbed. "This can't be happening..." she whispered.
Another gunshot sounded and a moment later there was a thud which was Harry's body falling as blood splattered all over.
Voldemort had succeeded; he had now killed the world's only hope of demolishing the Dark Lord was now gone. The man's bloody laughter filled the dungeon and echoed throughout the corridors of the underground lair.
Hermione was speechless. She felt hopeless and destroyed. To her it seemed as if there was no point in living a life now that the dark side had become victorious and it was impossible to know what would happen now that Voldemort was in control.
Two deatheaters forced her to stand up and walk out into the dark halls. They threw her into her cell left her to ponder over the deadly events.
Everyone was dead...her parents, her friends, her fiancé: they were all gone...gone forever. She was alone and without any hope of survival. She glanced at the engagement ring that was still on her finger. It was silver with a small but pretty sapphire embedded in it. Looking at it only made her cry harder.
Insanity had now reached her young mind; her heart was now broken beyond repair. Hermione could feel the mangled muscle beat rapidly inside of her, unnecessarily pumping blood throughout her body.
Then she remembered...the dagger. Several months ago, Hermione had begun to conceal a dagger in her clothes in case she would ever have need for it. Now the weapon seemed to be calling to her to use it.
She stood up and searched for the small nick in which she had hidden the knife. The nick was in the wall underneath the bench, which hanged from iron chains. She quickly found it. Hermione unwrapped the navy blue cloth that covered the dagger.
Then petrified woman stared at it. The silver of the handle still shone fiercely at her. She sat down, holding her dagger directly in front of her. Then, she whispered quietly:
See my heart shatter;
As if an arrow has plunged into it;
Too many nights have passed by,
Filled with the deadly agony;
I spend them hoping;
Hoping that death will soon end my ceaseless pain.
Something inside of her brought the dagger up to her heart and into the soft flesh of her chest. Crimson fluid emitted from the wound, immediately soaking the front of Hermione's robes. Excruciating pain rapidly filled her entire body. She slid onto the floor, unable to support herself.
So weak from the loss of blood, Hermione's hand withdrew and fell to the ground, causing the blade to penetrate further into her still beating heart.
Her life then left as the last drops of blood spilled from the wound.
Authors Note: First of all thanks for reading. This was guided by my own thoughts and feelings. I really surprised myself while writing this and think this is my best piece of work I have ever written. Well please take the time to review!