She was never one to run when she was scared or threatened. She always stood up for what she knew was right and she never turned her back on her friends. She fought with an iron fist and brought down whoever she could. Her knowledge and bravery allowed her to be strong when faced with a bad or scary situation, and if caught, her strength and will power to live kept her going… kept her motivated. And she was a natural born leader, when it came to knowledge or friendship, she was always there leading the pack and pushing them along, whether they noticed it or not.
But this time, she found herself running. She found herself running because by running, she was fighting. She wasn't giving them a chance to catch her and she wasn't going down without a fight. She would run, hide, survive, lead, protect, and… kill. She would do whatever she had to do to protect the people she knew she had to protect, the people who now looked up to her in their time of need. She was all they had left of the once all mighty golden trio.
Something had happened, nobody knew what exactly, but something had happened. They had lost. Harry had stood up to Voldemort and had fallen. 'The boy who lived' became 'the boy who fell', and along with him, fell Hogwarts. At first it was nothing but silence, nobody wanting to believe that what they saw or heard was true, especially Hermione and Ron, but now it was too late. The silence only lasted for a mere second before Voldemort let out a piercing laughter that thrashed through the sky, sending chills down everybody's spines.
Deatheaters attacked the young and the old, grabbing whoever they could reach and stunning them, knocking them out before throwing them to the side only for them to be captured later when they were weak and helpless. The lives of the injured and the weak didn't even have a chance of survival. The deatheaters didn't give them that chance, killing them before they had a chance to even say goodbye to the ones they loved.
Hogwarts was a scene of terror. Screams echoed throughout the halls, sobs bounced off the walls and echoed inside of your head, never leaving. Blood lined the stone walls like paint. And broken, dead lifeless bodies lay on the ground, covered up by loved ones who refused to let go. The worst, however, for Hermione was watching Voldemort and his very few close deatheaters poking and kicking at Harry's body. They would levitate him into the air only to watch him fall back to the ground and laugh.
If it wasn't for Ron, Hermione would have lost her life that night. Although it pained Ron to do it, he grabbed Hermione as she tried to fight her way to at least help Harry's body rest in peace, and pulled her away. With tears pouring down her eyes and her arms thrashing, Ron lifted her up over his shoulder and ran in the same direction as everybody else… outside of the castle.
He had placed her down by the greenhouses and cupped her cheeks in both of his hands, wiping away her tears that still ran down her face. Looking her deep in her brown eyes, he connected his lips with hers at full force, giving Hermione the most passionate kiss he had ever given her. Releasing the kiss, hands still on the side of her cheeks, he smiled at her. "Run Hermione. You're an amazing witch and you don't deserve this life. Run, fight, protect, lead, and… love."
"I do love, Ron." Hermione pleaded, tears pouring down her cheeks. "I love you."
"Maybe in another life." And as one last tear fell from his blue eyes and down his dirt and blood covered cheek, he spoke his last words to the woman he loved. "I love you so much Hermione." And with one last, hard, passionate kiss on the lips, he let go of the sides of Hermione's face and disappeared back into the castle, ignoring the screams and cries coming from Hermione, pleading with him to come back.
Standing with her back to the green house, she allowed the rest of the tears to pour down her cheeks as she watched the horror from the side lines. People fleeing into the forbidden forest, just barely dodging killing and stunning curses, and some not dodging them at all. For a moment, the cries and screams were muffled, almost like a bomb had dropped beside her and she was temporarily deaf, only able to hear her own heart beat. Licking her lips and grabbing her wand out of her pocket, she made up her mind.
She was going to take Ron's advice. She would run, fight, protect, lead, and even love. Pushing off from the greenhouse she ran off at a full sprint heading towards the castle, only stopping to help the fallen get back up and on their way. Running forward with her head turned towards the deatheaters attacking them, she stunned as many as she could. Finally making it into the forest, she yelled quickly towards whoever was near her, and had wands, to stand up and fight. Using the forest trees as barriers, they waited. They waited for each deatheater to come into visual before catching them off guard and stunning them. When none came, they all gathered together and quickly sprinted in the same direction the others had fled in.
This was how Hermione Granger became their leader. She was the oldest, the last remaining member of the golden trio, and the brightest witch of her age. She was a natural born leader, so lead she would do.