A/N – I just wanted to thank my readers for keeping up with this story! I know it can be difficult to commit to a work in progress, even if there are pretty regular updates. Extra love goes out to xoRetributionox, who has been seriously awesome at commenting. Thank you so much for your encouragement and feedback! I really try not to beg for comments, because I know that's tacky, but they do really inspire me and make me feel all fluffy-bunny happy.

It was three minutes to five o'clock, and the majority of the Order was already seated at the kitchen table. Looking around, Hermione noticed Bill and Fleur were absent, and she could hear Neville using the floo on the first floor to speak to who could only be his grandmother. She had heard the words "Nevy," "so proud," and "give 'em hell," as she made her way down the stairs.

'I can do this. I'm cool, calm, and collected. I am not preparing to kill people tonight, I am simply sitting down for a meeting with the Order. Totally normal.' Try as she might, it was incredibly difficult to clear her mind of the night's fore-casted ruinations. On top of that, it was hard to clear her mind of the previous night's destructiveness. This wouldn't go down as Hermione's best week ever.

Catching Ron's eye, she moved to sit down next to him at the long table. 'Look, I'm sitting by Ron like nothing's wrong. Just an Order meeting with my pseudo-boyfriend who I love and occasionally have sex with but can't commit to; totally normal. He doesn't suspect that I'm going to get all Avada-happy. Nope' She giggled inappropriately and caught Ron frowning in confusion. 'Stop randomly laughing, Hermione. Need to keep it together. Need coffee. Or a nap.' Her red-headed beau wrapped an arm around her waist and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Do you have any plans tomorrow, love?"

She blushed at his affectionate gesture as well as his words. If he knew what she and Harry had been discussing in the attic, there was no way he'd want to even share a room with her. "I'm planning on there actually BEING a tomorrow, but other than that, no, no plans to speak of."

"Well, I happen to KNOW there's going to be a tomorrow, and if you're not busy, I would like to cordially invite you to this very kitchen for dinner. I will be preparing my gourmet specialty, grilled cheese. If you play your cards right, there may even be a chocolate frog with your name on it for dessert. Would the lady care to join me?"

"What sort of lady would I be to refuse such a tempting offer as that, good sir?" She knew she shouldn't be playing along with him, but he was being too damn cute. And as she told Harry, she really, really liked the way he looked at her. She was going to soak up all the affection he'd give her; it wouldn't last long. Maybe that made her a bad person, but…

His hand sneaked beneath the table and on to her thigh, squeezing it twice. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. Did she truly have to give this up? They fit together so lovely, so easily. In fact, it would be the easiest thing in the world to be with this man, to marry him, and to raise children with him. 'Just because it's easy doesn't mean it's right,' she reminded herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the emergence of Bill and Fleur, both looking very disheveled. Bill appeared quite flustered; his long hair was thoroughly tousled, and his shirt was one button off. If one were unable to suss out their recent carnal activity from the transparent physical clues, than Bill's apparent newfound interest in the carpet, kitchen table, and his own fingers made it obvious. Fleur's face was one of unabashed satisfaction as she made eye contact with everyone in the room, daring someone to question where they had been or what they had been doing.

'Stop it. You're not jealous of Bill and Fleur. Just because they obviously had amazing 'we're-about-to-die-so-let's-shag-each-other's-brains-out sex' doesn't mean that you get to be jealous.' No matter how many times Hermione told herself this, she couldn't help feeling more than a little bitter every time she caught a glimpse of Fleur's flushed post-coital glow. What if she did die tonight? That morning's intimacies with Ron had been amazing, but now she was desperately wishing for a repeat.

"'Mione."

No, a repeat would be a terrible idea. No matter how good Ron smelled right now. Or how tingly she felt, especially in her nether regions.

"'Mione!"

But then again... if this was the last day of their lives, did it really matter? They'd already indulged once today…

"'Mione!"

"Huh?" How long had Ron been trying to get her attention?

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I don't mean to embarrass you, love, but it's becoming increasingly obvious what's on your mind."

She shot straight up in her seat, blushing furiously. "And how exactly would you know what's on my mind, Ronald?"

"Well, you can't stop sharing at Bill and Fleur. But that wasn't what gave it away. Look down, love."

Gasping, she saw that she had subconsciously moved his hand from her thigh allll the way up to her...

"Merlin! I am so sorry, Ron, I don't know what's come over me. After this morning in your room, and the lack of sleep, and then Mr. and Mrs. Shagtastic walked in... Gods, I am SO embarrassed!"

His laughter rumbled deep within his chest as he brazenly grazed his fingers over her core before slowly moving his hand down to her knee. "There will be plenty of time for that, believe me."

"You're evil," she hissed, clenching her teeth. Her face may as well stay red now, because there was no way she was ever going to live this down. She looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed her dirty dalliance. No one seemed to be looking their way. She breathed a sigh of relief.

A voice way too close to her laughed. "Oh yeah, I definitely saw that. Never knew you were such a naughty bird, Granger. Now I know exactly what my brothers saw in your all that time."

"George Weasley, if you tell a soul I swear I will give you a matching set of ears." She hadn't even noticed the man seated on the other side of her! This couldn't get worse, unless Mrs. or Mr. Weasley had somehow noticed her forcing Ron to stroke her through her jeans.

"Stand down, little one. I won't tell a soul about your very wily, wanton ways. We'll keep this between the three of us: ickle Ronniekins, you, and me." He paused. "Gods, that sounded wrong; did NOT mean it to come out like that. Consider it forgotten. And forget what I just said." He shuddered.

No, she would never stop blushing. She hid her face in her hands. How long had she been awake? Thirty-two, thirty-three hours? Yes, she was tired, but that was no excuse to completely lose her filter. When was this bloody meeting going to start?

"I think we're all here now, so how about we get down to business." Yes! Saved by the Chosen One. Ten points to Gryffindor.

Harry cleared his throat. "We've spent the better part of the day going over battle tactics and dueling and formations, so unless you've lost your appetites, which is understandable, you're all probably starving. Not to mention anxious, apprehensive, and scared. Or is it just me?" He smiled.

"Scared, yes, lost my appetite, no," Ron's voice tickled her ear. Of course Ron was hungry. It really would have to be the end of the world for him to miss a meal.

"I propose that we go over the plans and then eat up, unless there are any objections? No? Okay."

With a flick of his wand, Harry created a smoky model of the Nott Manor and grounds once more on the table.

"Right. So the Manor backs up onto a small wood; we plan on using that to our advantage. We've got the two ground assault teams; Hermione, your team will be coming in through the front door, as it were. The air team will be flanking your position, seeing as you'll be walking straight into the dragon's pit. Kingsley, your team will approach from the east, through the wood. As I said before, Luna, you're the medic for Hermione's team, and Fleur, you'll be working with Kingsley's team." Fleur locked eyes with Bill; she wouldn't be the medic for his group. That was probably a good thing, of course, because her attention would sharper if she wasn't on the lookout for her husband. However, the idea of being separated from him was still painful. "First and foremost, ladies, I want you to be on your guard. You will see your fair share of fighting, I'm sure, but I want you to be available to help the injured. If I didn't mention it earlier… did I mention it earlier? Anyway. We're not going to be able to Apparate the injured off the battlefield; there aren't enough of us, and Apparating back in the middle of combat is simply too dangerous. If someone is injured, cast a Disillusionment Charm on them and levitate them to a safe area." Luna and Fleur nodded their understanding.

"So. We'll be Apparating about a half kilometer north of the grounds, just outside of the wards."

"Um, Harry? How exactly are we going to get through the wards?" Neville had a point.

"Well, I have a few ideas. Theo Nott should have been able to cross the wards, unless they've been changed. Hopefully, the Death Eaters haven't thought that far ahead. If we have a bit of his blood, I think we'll be able to force the wards down long enough for us to get through." Hermione shuddered at the thought of Theo. So. Apparently Harry had thought ahead and collected his blood. The idea made her want to vomit. "If that doesn't work, we have Hermione. She's brilliant at wards, and I think she'll be able to take care of them. Of course, there's always the real possibility that Mr. Dark and Evil himself will be expecting us, and has simply removed the wards entirely."

Across the table, Hermione saw Luna shiver. They weren't counting on the element of surprise, but it would be excellent if it happened to fall into their laps. Still, the thought of Voldemort waiting for them to make their move was nothing less than positively chilling.

"Once we're past the wards, we'll fly to the appropriate spot. Hermione, you'll ride with Dean, and Molly, you'll ride with Bill. Luna, you can either ride with Neville or by yourself; I know you're not a huge fan of broomsticks, but whatever you'd prefer."

Luna looked across the table at Neville. "I think I'll ride with you, if that would be okay?" There was a faint blush about Neville's cheek as he nodded his consent.

Harry smiled; Hermione had mentioned that Neville may have a bit of a crush on dear Luna. Maybe she was right.

"Ron, would you like to take over now, mate?"

Hermione watched the youngest Weasley boy stand and walk to the head of the table. She was still surprised by how much Ron had changed since Hogwarts. That day he left them during the Horcrux hunt had deeply wounded her; she had asked herself over and over again how could she feel such affection for a boy who couldn't even stand by his friends. Those nights that she cried, so many, many nights, she cried not only because he was gone, but because she still cared for him, even after his betrayal. It was a frightening, dependent sort of love. When he had found them once again, it was months before she could fully forgive him. He had done his best to earn it, though. His loyalty was stronger than ever, and she was so proud to see him as the man he was today.

Ron Weasley stood in front of the Order looked nothing short of a leader. His entire demeanor spoke of confidence and preparation. The Order was lucky to have member with such a strategic mind.

Guess that predilection towards wizard's chess paid off.

"As we all know, the main goal tonight is to take down the evil Snake-Bastard. This means we not only need to capture as many Death Eaters as possible, but that we need to clear the way for Harry and Hermione to get to said evil Snake-Bastard and take that son of a bitch down. Here's now we do it…."

It was a quarter to seven, and almost everything was in place. Hermione's team and Kingsley's team were both squared away on their offensive strategy, and Oliver's air assault team had worked out their flying maneuvers hours ago. The world they knew had fifteen minutes left until its inevitable demise, for surely nothing would be the same the minute they Apparated outside the wards of Nott Manor.

Hermione had swallowed three cups of coffee and sipped some of the Wit-Sharpening Potion Professor McGonagall passed around. How was she supposed to prepare herself for this? One thing was for sure – she needed a moment along with Ron before things got too crazy.

Where was he? She wandered from room to room, but he wasn't with his family members or friends. She checked his room and found it empty. Taking the stairs two at a time, she searched the floors of number 12 Grimmauld Place, but he was nowhere to be found. She opened the door to the attic and called his name. She heard him respond, so she went to investigate. The attic was empty. She called for him again, and heard his voice coming from outside. "Ahh, he's on the roof!"

Harry hadn't known of the rooftop access at 12 Grimmauld Place until well after Sirius had passed. When he did find it, it was by mistake, really. They had been bringing storage up to the attic to clear out the bedrooms, and he was merely looking for a place to throw some junk. While rearranging some things, he happened upon a door. It was then that he really noticed the roof! It wasn't visible from the front of the house (the peaked roof off the front hid it from street view), but it was quite a large expanse.

It was here she found Ron, standing and looking out upon the neighborhood, hands buried deep in the pockets of his denims.

"Hey." She nudged him with her shoulder. He turned and gave her a slight smile, but she couldn't figure out exactly what it meant.

"Hey, 'Mione."

"So this is it, I guess." What do you say at a time like this? All she wanted was to tell him that she loved him, that she would always love him, and that she was sorry. She was sorry for the things she had to do tonight, and she was sorry that she would have to leave him. It was now that she realized that she wouldn't simply have to break things off with Ron; she would truly have to leave him alone, or they'd never get over one another.

Wow. That was a bloody horrible realization.

He cleared his throat and grabbed for her hand. "We're going to be okay, 'Mione."

What did he mean by that? That they were going to survive? That they would be together, after everything? Or that he'd accept whatever happened between them?

"I hope so, Ron."

Turning to face him, she lifted her hands to cup his scruffy cheeks. Slowly she kissed him, trying to put all of her thoughts and wishes and hopes for him into the pressing of her lips against his. He kissed her back just as tenderly, running his fingers through her curls. The cool May air whipped around them, and she could smell Spring in the air. It smelled like honeysuckle, rain, and new beginnings. Their world, their childhood, was ending.

A new world would take its place.

Wordlessly she again took his hand and and held it as she walked him back into the house, and down the stairs. It was time. When they reached the kitchen where the rest of the Weasleys, not to mention Luna and Neville, had congregated, they broke the connection.

"Where's Harry?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light and neutral.

"I think he went outside," Ginny replied, her eyes wistfully tracking to the door.

Hermione excused herself. She found her friend sitting outside on the front steps.

"Well, Harry. Everything sounds like goodbye right now, and that's just not right. Are you ready?"

His green eyes fixed onto hers and she was taken aback at the fire found therein. "I'm ready, Hermione. Gods, am I ready. You remember our plan, yeah? It's you and me, Bookworm. Let's get those bastards; let's take them down for my parents, and Sirius, and Lupin, and Tonks, and Dumbledore, and Fred, and Moody, and for every other bloody good person who was massacred at their hands."

Hermione felt her earlier light spirit dropping; it was just her and Harry now, and she was thankful that she didn't need to pretend at all around him, now. He knew what she had done, and what she would do in just a few short minutes.

"I said goodbye to Ron. Not in so many words, but still. I'm not coming back to Grimmauld Place, Harry."

"I know."

"And I'm not going to the Burrow."

"I know."

"Okay."

He reached over to squeeze her hand, then released it to stand. Wordlessly he walked back into the house, and she was alone. She felt the sudden emptiness fill her again, that blankness she had drawn on when she was questioning Nott. She put aside the sadness of leaving Ron, Harry, and the rest of her friends. She put away thoughts of the future, what would happen when all of this ugliness was over and done, left on the lawn of Nott Manor. Instead she thought of George and Fred, laughing together. George and Fred, teasing her at Hogwarts with their silly pranks. George and Fred, finishing one another's sentences.

And then George, alone, crying over Freddie's grave. George, unable to walk into his old room. Molly, in her kitchen, unable to cook, just watching the clock with her family's names and statuses displayed proudly. How Fred's clock hand was now permanently set on "Lost," the eyes in his photograph forever closed. She thought of Ginny, so fiery with rage, volunteering for dangerous mission after dangerous mission, wanting to avenge her brother's death.

And Hermione thought of Ron, oscillating between despairing grief, uncontrollable vengeance, and an insatiable appetite for her very personal method of comfort. She thought of the mornings she'd find find his side of the bed empty but still warm, the pillow wet with his tears.

She allowed herself to be filled with anger and an uncontrollable need for justice. She didn't fight the darkness, when it came. Instead, she wrapped it around herself like a warm blanket. This was what she needed, this is what would get her through the next few hours. It was like the incantation said: Imperare sibi maximum imperium est. To rule oneself is the ultimate power.

The magic crackled and buzzed through her limbs. Tonight, she would embrace her darker instincts, the shadow in her soul.

She was ready.

A/N - My husband hasn't been reading this fic. He read the first two chapters, and said something along the lines of, "I haven't finished Prisoner of Azkaban. Harry and his friends are still happy, young kids in my mind. I'm not ready for tortured Hermione or killer Harry." He also told me I would definitely be in Slytherin.

Is it a bad thing I take both of those comments as compliments?

p.s.-

I'm asking a favor of you, my readers. Please take 1 minute and write a review. As we all know, stories that have a higher number of reviews get read more. If you think this story is worth a read, please review so other people will give it a chance as well. Thank you.