A/N: Thanks for the nice comments. All very lovely indeed.

DISCLAIMER: Only the plot. The rest is J.K Rowling's. How we love her…

Chapter Two

Day Seventy-seven

Hermione struggled in their hold as they yanked her away from the battlefield. She kicked and screamed with all her might but silenced as a fist slammed into her face. Blood spilled into her mouth and down her chin as her lip busted from the hit. She felt her body shaking like crazy from the fear running through her. She would rather be in a room full of Dementor's then being dragged away by two Death Eaters…

Hermione jumped awake in a cold sweat with tears pouring down her face. She turned her beside lamp on and wiped her tears away as Crookshanks watched her through lazy eyes. She climbed out of bed and jumped in fright as a bang echoed through the air from the distant battlefield. She entered her bathroom and turned the shower on before removing her nightwear. She stepped into the hot shower and scrubbed her skin clean, trying to escape the feeling of the hands roughly sliding along her innocent skin. A lump formed in her throat as constant tears escaped her eyes.

She sucked in a deep breath as she turned the water off and wrapped a towel around her. She looked in the mirror taking in her red eyes and puffy cheeks. She brushed her teeth and exited the bathroom dressing in long army print pants and a blue shirt with a black jacket. She brushed her hair and slipped on shoes exiting her tent to the early morning, cool air.

A few people were returning from the battlefield. Some wounded, but most were exhausted.

"I'll get breakfast started," said Hermione to Fred Weasley as he helped George head to the healer's tent to get his cut leg healed.

"That'd be brilliant, Mione," said Fred.

Hermione ran across the campgrounds and into the centre tent. She began frying up bacon, eggs, and kippers and organised some pumpkin juice. Molly joined her a few minutes later organising some toast and hash browns. By the time the returnees from the battle entered the tent the food was set on the table with three tall jugs of pumpkin juice and coffee ready to be poured into the waiting mugs. Fred slumped in his seat with his eyes closed. Dark circles were around his eyes with a slight cut above his right eye.

"It's awful," said Fred as Molly placed kippers onto his plate followed by bacon then eggs and finally toast, "I don't know how much longer we can keep the advantage out there. Somehow You-Know-Who is gaining more followers, whether they are willing ones or not."

Hermione shook her head as she placed another plate of bacon on the table, "We need all the fighters we can get."

Molly shot Hermione a look, knowing what she was thinking, "We will be fine."

"No, Mum, she is right," said Percy walking in. He had come directly back to his family once the war began, "Our numbers are dwindling. This week alone we have lost five people. Twenty-two are injured. We are stretching out numbers with people guarding Hogwarts, Gringott's, and Hogsmeade. We will be over powered soon."

"What about the Australian's? When do they arrive?"

"Next week maybe… in a month. They are still trying to work out how to get here safely with apperation and flooing out of the question."

"Why don't they travel the muggle way?" asked Hermione, "By airplane."

"That is an option. We will need someone to organise the tickets though," murmured Percy with a frown, "I'll go find McGonagall and discuss it with her. Thanks Hermione."

Hermione just nodded. She thought it was a pretty obvious answer to begin with but most magical folk tended to ignore the muggle options.

--

Hermione spent the morning cleaning the centre tent with Molly then helping out at the Healer's tent. Ginny was still a bit distant with her but Hermione didn't have a moment to spare thinking about it. The day was busy with her explaining to McGonagall and other important people in the Order about airplane tickets. Eventually the Order sent a letter, charming it with complex spells to only be opened by the Australian strand of the Order about the muggle travelling idea. Once they got word back of their decision they would begin working out how to get them from the airport to their camp. A group of forty-five would be coming.

Hermione headed to her tent mid-morning deciding to take a nap, hoping she wouldn't be plagued by the nightmare of her attack. Even if she woke before it reached the horrifying moments the start still scared her stiff. Crookshanks greeted her with a mew and looked pointedly at his empty bowl.

"Oh I am sorry Crookshanks," said Hermione opening her wardrobe and pulling out a box of cat biscuits, "This is the best I've got until the designated shopping group are sent to Hogsmeade next week. Eat up then."

Crookshanks gave the chicken and vegetable biscuits a sniff but finally ate them when he accepted he wasn't going to get anything else. Hermione laid on her bed and closed her eyes, slowly drifting off into a slumber.

She was thrown roughly to the ground and backed away from the two towering Death Eaters. They stalked towards her, almost tauntingly slow until her back hit a trunk of a thick tree. She peered up at them and with a shaking hand reached for her wand.

"Expelliarmus!" roared one.

Hermione watched with devastation as her wand flew from her hand into the Death Eaters. He twirled in his hand laughing with his partner…

Hermione jerked awake at a loud hoot. She sat up taking deep breath blinking a few times to get the fog from her eyes. She looked over at her desk chair and saw the dishevelled owl.

"You're back," smiled Hermione standing and untying the letter from its claws. She got it an owl biscuit and the owl hooted affectionately, "There is some water in the bowl over there. Crookshanks won't mind sharing."

The owl soared over to the bowl and walked sideways to the bowl with Crookshanks watching it with narrowed eyes. He watched the owl drink and with a flick of the tail, Crookshanks turned away and waddled to his basket in annoyance.

Hermione however was seated in her desk chair reading the reply she had received.

Dear Confidante,

You must be female. You sound really sentimental in your letter. But that doesn't bother me. I am just sincerely glad to have someone to write too. At least I now have something to look forward too each day. It is pretty obvious that I managed to remain alive this time around.

Your friends must care for you if they don't want you to fight. And I do realise now that I am lucky to see my mother everyday, even if I don't see my father, but word is I will soon. That will be interesting I suppose. So are your parents fighting else where or not at all? My mother doesn't fight. How could she in her state? If it isn't crying, it's spending the day wallowing in her sorrows – whatever they may be.

Tell me about yourself. You don't have to tell me your name or anything. It would be safer to keep those details secret these days. I'm a guy, if you hadn't guessed. I turned seventeen months ago now. Strange to think four days ago I should have returned to school to begin my final year.

I hope to hear back from you soon.

Sincerely,

Person In Despair

Hermione looked at the last paragraph with an open mouth. This guy, he must be in her year then. She obviously knew him in some way then. She found fresh parchment and dipped her quill into her blue ink.

Dear Person In Despair,

Well you are on the money there. I am female and sentimental. But there are guys in the world that are just as sentimental, some even more so. It is good to have someone to write too during these horrible days… weeks… months really. Everybody needs something to look forward I guess, other then the same things each day.

Yes, my friends do care for me. Sometimes a bit too much for my liking. Mainly one of them. But that is another thing altogether. However, I do have my reasons for wanting to fight. Again, that is another thing altogether.

It sounds like you haven't seen your father for sometime. You must be longing to see him? Or is it that you are dreading too? Everyone has sorrows as well and your mother is bound to have them with her son going to war everyday. Not too stick my nose in, but maybe she needs someone to listen to her. Maybe she is waiting for you to go to her and ask her if everything is okay.

Things about me. Well I turn eighteen later this month. Like you, I would be entering my final year of Hogwarts. Surprise, surprise, we must know each other already, but I don't want to reveal my name either. It isn't safe to be doing so by letter.

Well, I hope to get my reply tomorrow. If not, I hope it is some time soon.

Your friend by letter,

A Confidante.

The owl flew over and Hermione tied the letter to its leg and walked to the tent door and watched the owl take off. Hermione smiled as it soared smoothly in the air flapping every few seconds.

"Who are you writing too?" asked Ginny walking over to her.

"A person in despair," replied Hermione looking at her, "I thought you were mad with me."

"I'm not. I just don't like seeing my brothers being hurt."

Hermione sighed, "You know I would never do such a thing intentionally, Ginny."

"I do. Just took me a while to realise that."

Hermione nodded and looked over at George exiting the healer's tent with a slight limp, "How is he?"

"They healed it all pretty much, but the muscle is still healing from the injury. He can't fight for two days or so."

"Least he didn't die."

"I know."

The pair listened to the low rumble of a storm coming in mingling in with the sounds of the battlefield. Tonight would be a long night.

--

Hermione laid on her bed in the darkness listening to the wind and rain. She had zipped her tent shut. The flap resembled a door on the inside. She rolled to her side, resting one hand on Crookshanks warm, soft fur. He purred with affection but slept on. Hermione felt her eyelids grow heavier with sleepiness and before she knew it she had joined the land of sleep.

Day Seventy-eight

Hermione watched in horror as he threw her wand away from her. She teared her eyes back up and screamed as one grabbed her and pulled her up against him. She pounded her fists on his hard chest but his friend grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her. Hermione took deep shuddering breaths and closed her eyes in disgust as he leaned forward and forced his lips onto hers, licking the blood he had made her spill. He pulled away and tutted.

"This will not do," he hissed at her before ripping her robes open revealing her white singlet top and jeans, "My, my, what fun I will have in playing undress the witch."

Hermione's eyes flashed open. Every time she slept her nightmares would pick up from where left off. Could memories pause them selves and continue play once the mind became vulnerable?

Hermione showered and dressed before exiting her tent. No one was awake. Silence was all that Hermione could hear. She looked over at the berry bushes, where the forest began. She could easily get to the battlefield and do what she most desperately wanted.

She started walking slowly, before breaking into a run. She dashed past the berry bushes and into the forest. She weaved her way through the trees, glancing over her shoulder for anyone following to stop her. The rumbles of spells being fired came closer and the explosions were louder. She stopped at the edge and took in the gruesome scene. Bodies laid collapsed everywhere, people simply fighting over top of them. It had gotten worse since Hermione last fought. The battles were twice as furious; the Death Eaters were definitely beginning to over power them.

"Seamus," whispered Hermione watching one of her classmates collapse.

She ran out towards him, ducking spells and people duelling. She fired her own spells when aimed for. She knelt down beside him and saw him gasping for air. Hermione quickly performed a spell to clear his lungs and airway. He took a deep shuddering breath and moved his hand to show a deep cut below his ribcage.

"Come on," said Hermione helping him up and stunning a Death Eater charging towards them, "Let's get you to safety."

She helped him run across the battlefield, both defending themselves aggressively. Once in the forest they were relatively safe.

"You shouldn't have been out there," said Seamus weakly.

"If I didn't you would be dead," replied Hermione hotly, "Be grateful I left the camp unnoticed."

Seamus winced in pain and gave a weak cry. Hermione looked at him in panic and saw the bleeding was worse then she first realised. Seamus leant against a tree breathing deeply, his skin going paler by the second. Hermione knew what was happened and shook her head.

"No you don't," she snapped putting an arm over her shoulder's and literally dragging him through the forest, "Stay awake. Keep talking, come on."

"We should've started school four days ago."

"Yep and we will go back soon. You know that The Ministry said they would help keep the school open until we have completed the proper year. It will be good, won't it?"

"Y-yeah," nodded Seamus briefly closing his eyes.

"Stay awake Seamus! Come on… what do you want to do after school?"

"Travel the world with Dean and Neville. We plan on seeing the Great Wall of China."

"Wow. That sounds exciting," panted Hermione seeing the berry bushes, "Look, we are almost there. Madam Pomfrey will have you healed in no time."

"Yeah… heal me," mumbled Seamus his eyes drooping more and his head starting to drop.

"Seamus Finnigan! Do not go to sleep!"

Seamus looked at Hermione with half opened eyes, "Trying not too."

"Come on… think of Hogwarts, of the Quidditch you will play. The food there… treacle tarts… umm… the marinated pork ribs."

"Sounds nice."

Hermione pulled Seamus past the bushes and sounded a bang in the air. Within seconds people dashed from tents. Hermione lowered Seamus to the ground as Healers came running over. Hermione stumbled backwards watching them work on Seamus. He was staring at Hermione and Hermione found it odd he never blinked.

"He's gone," said a woman leaning away, "He's dead."

"No… his eyes are open," said Hermione earnestly, "Ask him about Hogwarts."

The healers looked at Hermione, her clothes stained with his blood. One of them summoned a stretcher and blanket. His body was lifted onto it and a blanket was placed over him. Hermione watched in shock, her mouth opened in surprise as tears filled her eyes as Seamus Finnigan was carried away to a tent where dead bodies were kept.

"Hermione?" said Ginny softly.

"He's dead… I… I tried to get him here to be helped," said Hermione looking at Ginny tears trickling down her cheeks, "I was too late."

"You did what you could. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

--

An hour later Hermione was sitting in the centre tent numbly picking at her pancakes. No one spoke to her. They had all heard about Seamus' death. Dean Thomas was said to be in his tent refusing the leave. Neville was being sent a letter. He was one of the people guarding Hogwarts with Hagrid.

"Eat up, dear," said Molly sitting beside Hermione, "You need your strength."

"I'm not hungry," mumbled Hermione as she stood and walked out of the tent. She looked around the campsite in silence before seeing the dishevelled owl flying into her tent. Hermione ran over to her tent and walked in pleased to see the owl.

She fed it a treat and took the letter sitting on the edge of her bed to read it.

Dear Confidante,

I got your letter yesterday afternoon, but with the storm I wasn't about to send Walter into it. The poor owl looks as bad as it is. Soon he will resemble a duster. It was a wild storm last night, wasn't it?

Well, you sound you have issues bottled up in you. That is the worst thing you can possibly do. One day you will crack, than explode. That isn't exactly an attractive thing you know? It scares men away, no matter how attractive you may be physically and personality wise. So fess up, if I can confide in you, what is so wrong with you confiding in me?

I haven't seen my father in well over a year. Merlin knows how he will react when he arrives. He is my father. I can't really describe him in words, nice or nasty. I can simply sum him up as my father. What more can I say about him? Your advice about my mother helped somewhat. I went to her and asked her what was bothering her. She started talking and ended up sobbing so loudly that I couldn't understand a word she was saying. So overall, I have no idea what is wrong with her. I might try again after I send this.

I am amazed that we may very well know each other. As I write I am trying to see if I can work out who you are. What if we dislike each other? That would be awkward, wouldn't it? I must go. My annoying girlfriend is here. I must put up with her for at least an hour till I make some excuse to get her to leave me alone.

Reply soon and please fess up.

Your personal journal, that replies back,

Person No Longer In Despair.

Hermione smiled a little at the last two lines of the letter. She moved to her desk and found her parchment. She smoothed it out and dipped her quill in ink.

Dear No Longer In Despair,

It is nice to know you aren't in despair anymore. Perhaps we should work out names for ourselves. Yes, that storm was pretty wild. Thankfully no damage was done where I am.

Issues. I have been through enough traumatic things to last me a lifetime. Today I sneaked my way to the battlefield when I saw a friend fall from an attack. He could barely breathe so I performed a spell too clear his throat and lungs. As I was carrying him back to the camp due to a bad wound he started to grow weak. I knew what was happening but I didn't want it too. No one wants to witness a friend die. But he did. The Healers couldn't save him and he died. I know deep down that I am not to blame but I feel guilty. I should have been able to do something to save him. The other two issues I just don't want to discuss at the moment.

At least you tried to get your mother to open up. It shows you care deeply about her. What about your father? Do you think when he returns your mother will be less depressed?

It would be quite interesting if we did dislike each other. But I don't think it would be awful, yes awkward, but not awful. This would be seen as an opportunity to get to know each other without the views of what we think of the other person playing a major role. But what is curious too me, is you are dating a girl you find annoying? Tell me, why would you torture yourself like that? It seems a bit cruel for you and her in the long run. If you can't stand her, just end it.

I've fessed up some stuff now. Time for you to write back.

Your unseen friend,

Curls.

Hermione smiled at her chosen pen name. Curls. Simple and well, there were plenty of girls in her year that had curly hair. She folded it and sealed with wax stamp that had a design of an owl flying. Walter the owl flew over and allowed Hermione to tie the letter. She walked out with him perched on her shoulder. He nipped her ear affectionately and flew off. Hermione watched him silently before entering her tent to find another book to read.

A/N: As you can see I am slowly revealing what happened when Hermione was raped. And Seamus died… sorry. But will Hermione sneak off to fight again? Will the Australians take up the suggestion? When will Harry and the others return – well I can say that will be a few chapters away. Please review.

Until next time!

Love yas!

Love Coz!