Within the Smoke

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. Their J.K. Rowling's.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Completely entranced, Hermione realized that the light reflected their emotions. She stood unmoving as the scene before her suddenly came to life. Voldemort attacked first with the killing curse.

===Note====

I Like this chapter. It's action packed and full of angst! =) Angst is always easier to write for me than romance. Prepare yourself for a tearjerker.

Oh, and to answer a few of my reviewers' questions:

VoldemortsVeela- I'm not sure why I didn't just have Draco accio her wand. I guess cause then he wouldn't be able to protect her. And I needed him to do some noble deed to make her fall in love.

libyanauthor- Yeah, Draco is pretty cold. I guess it's cause on some level he's attracted to Hermione but is jealous cause he thinks Granger's really into Harry and just using him. Hey, I'd be ticked off too.

Within the Smoke

Chapter 7: She Watched Hope Die

Standing within the Minister's tent, Draco listened patiently as a plan of action was dictated. Their current strategy was fruitless. To take further action however, brought risk to their safety. Determined yet to end this war, Draco encouraged the plan. He had built his life on risks and fully believed that the risk was half the fun.

Emerging from the tent a half hour later, Draco glanced around to see if he could spot Granger. After her abrupt departure, he wondered what had caused such a reaction. With contemplation he realized bitterly that concern for Potter had prompted that response. Personally, he didn't understand the wide fascination the boy wonder attracted. Potter had left the camp voluntarily, so why should they risk more wizards to retrieve him?

When unable to locate Granger, Draco decided she must have simply retreated to another tent. Considering his goal accomplished, he brushed her from his thoughts. The witch was troublesome. And, seeing all that's happened, it would be better for both their sakes if further contact was terminated.

Walking towards the frontlines, Draco gathered along the way all the scattered officers. Notifying them of the new plan, the announcement was made to the entire army. They crowded at the edge of the camp and prepared themselves for the charge. Wands were drawn at ready and robes were adjusted. Draco made his way to the front. The Minister had suggested he stay behind due to his recent ordeal but he flatly refused. He was drawn to battle and would receive the glory due to him.

The army spread out to cover more ground. Moving forward at a similar pace, they cautiously guarded themselves against oncoming curses. Draco watched as those around him ducked and dodged and sent out a few spells themselves. He could tell by their faces that most were frightened. Disregarding them, he increased his pace and set out in front of the crowd. His position exposed him to more spells, he knew, but it also gave him the advantage of seeing what was ahead with more clarity.

Dropping to the ground, Draco avoided another deathly curse. Deatheaters didn't send warning spells. They didn't intend to simply disarm you. They would settle for nothing less than death. Knowing this, Draco wasn't agitated. Picking himself up, he continued on with the wand pointed forward. When another curse flew by inches from him, he sent out a spell of his own. Whoever was on the receiving end would be wretched instantly from consciousness and don the appearance of death. The Ministry preferred their enemies taken alive. Though Draco was doubtful of this decision at first, he became satisfied when remembering they would rot for eternity in Azkaban instead.

When the enemy multiplied their effort and the amount of spells increased, Draco became frustrated at how their pace slowed. Their fear was mounting, and their hesitation was reducing their speed. Abandoning the group altogether now, Draco began jogging ahead himself. His youth made him agile, and his experience made him sharp. He avoided spells almost effortlessly and with a dead calm expression. Impatiently, he increased his speed. The spells were flying with more accuracy now and Draco realized that they must be close enough to be seen by the enemy. Squinting, he began to make out their shapes in the smoke. Without pausing, he lifted his wand and aimed at the nearest figure. The Deatheater dropped instantly and opened the way for him to continue.

Draco began to see them with more clarity now. They were cloaked and hooded to conceal their identities. Their numbers weren't large so they had dispersed themselves making it easier to remain unnoticed. With deadly accuracy, he pointed his wand and sent his enemies to their knees. Never looking back to check their status, Draco pushed forward, his face composed and determined. Hearing the rest of the army and reinforcements arrive, he felt pleased. They were going to win this war, he thought, or there would be hell to pay if they didn't.

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Hermione spun in a slow circle to observe her surroundings. When seeing not another soul, she sighed and continued her search. In the distance, she heard the sounds of battle and realized that they must have charged the enemy. Feeling slightly guilty for not being a participant, Hermione turned away from the echoes and walked on with resolution. She knew that her actions were unreasonable and the odds of finding him small. The fact of the matter was that when she heard Harry was missing, she had acted on the first irrational idea which came to mind. Finding it too late to turn back now, Hermione figured she was at least doing something, if not a lot, to contribute to this war.

Finding nothing around her, she allowed her thoughts to wander. Aggravatingly, they wandered to Malfoy. It was odd how she could be infatuated with a man who utterly infuriated her. No, she convinced herself, it could not even be considered an infatuation. It was nothing but an attraction. Lust and emotional ties to the man who saved her dominated her feelings, Hermione decided. It would all be forgotten once this war was finished.

Distracted by her own musings, Hermione blinked in surprise when she realized she was seeing a light in the distance. The battle was in the other direction. Confused, she drifted cautiously toward the blinding radiance. Arriving in a clearing where the smoke was sparse, Hermione emitted a small gasp at the sight before her. She had found Harry. Standing before her and facing each other was Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. Both stood dead silent and unmoving, glaring at each other with intensity. Removing themselves from the battle, they had chosen to wage their own war.

Hermione had emerged quietly behind Voldemort. He didn't even notice her there. Harry however, did. His eyes flicked briefly to her before returning to the face of his opponent. He couldn't acknowledge her without notifying the Dark Lord of her presence.

They had their wands pointed at each other. The brilliant light which had attracted Hermione originated from their wand tips. Harry's glare hardened as he tensed. The light flashed blindingly for a moment. Voldemort's grip on his wand strengthened until his knuckles turned white, and his lighted tip flared temporarily also.

Completely entranced, Hermione realized that the light reflected their emotions. She stood unmoving as the scene before her suddenly came to life. Voldemort attacked first with the killing curse. Harry responded with incredible speed and blocked the spell with a simple shield charm. Without pausing, Harry launched his own assault. The two weren't playing with basic disarming spells, Hermione realized. Harry was completely disregarding the order not to kill if a live prisoner could be taken.

All through Hogwarts Hermione had believed her friend to be a fair, compassionate boy. However, with all he had encountered and overcome, Harry had always seemed haunted by his memories. At some point, she knew the ghosts of the past would cause him to break. Even with this in mind, Hermione had never chosen to believe him capable of murdering another human being. She had considered him above it all; revenge, hatred, cruelty. Seeing him now, she realized painfully that her delusions simply weren't true. Hatred was certainly expressed on his face now as he sent curse after curse toward the Dark Lord. Some missed by inches while others were diverted by small charms.

Both men paused for a moment to regain their breathe. They were drained by the swiftness of the fight. While still panting, Harry abruptly raised his wand to send another volley of spells. Voldemort defeated each one. Letting out a frustrated yell, Harry charged his tormentor, firing a shaky hex as he ran. With surprising rapidity, the Dark Lord moved from the path of the curse. It hit Hermione instead.

She was instantly blinded by torturous pain in her right shoulder. The wound throbbed with such agony that she sunk to her knees without her knowledge. Panting heavily, she heard Harry's voice as if it was an echo. Forget me, she prayed, end this war now, Harry.

"No!" Harry screamed. He was running toward her, he looked terrified. Distracted, he had removed his gaze from Voldemort. He had made his first fatal mistake. Barely making it a few steps, Harry was hit by a curse. Hermione heard his agonized scream, and tears began to flow. Watching from the ground, she saw him fall to his hands and knees.

Voldemort was laughing now, quietly at first, but his voice began to vibrate as he realized Potter was as good as gone. Satisfied with his triumph, he turned to execute the witch next. Hermione watched as the Dark lord loomed over her. His familiar skeletal grin was in place and his wand was raised. Surprisingly, she wasn't frightened. It hardly mattered anymore. Ron was dead, Harry close to it, and Malfoy...No, nothing could bring her to care now. The tears stopped as all emotion died. Keeping her eyes lowered, Hermione openly accepted her fate.

It didn't come. A grunt was emitted from the figure standing above her. Looking up, she saw Voldemort momentarily frozen in place. His menacing gaze was not resting on her but straight ahead. Shocked and unmoving, she watched as he slowly fell to the ground. Lying sprawled, the Dark lord was defeated. Staring into his lifeless eyes, Hermione didn't understand what had just happened.

She looked up and spotted Harry still hunched over on the ground. His arm was extended however and his wand was raised. Gasping for breathe; Hermione lifted herself to her feet with difficulty. She found her legs shaky and unstable. Reaching Harry's side was a struggle, but Hermione was determined to do it.

"Harry," she began weakly as she neared. He fell fully to the ground now with a thud. His breathes were shaky as if it hurt him to breath. "You did it Harry. You ended it." Knelling beside him and taking his hand, she found it cold. The tears began again to her dismay. "Harry? You're going to be alright aren't you?" He gave her a small smile but didn't answer. He turned his gaze from her and looked ahead distracted. His breathing became laborious. Her tears erupted into heavy sobs. "Harry?"

She watched sorrowfully as his eyes slowly closed, knowing there wasn't a thing she could do. She had never felt so useless, so much a failure. The rise and fall of his chest grew less noticeable until it ceased altogether. Hermione gave a shuddering breathe and lay her head on his chest defeated. She had failed. It hardly mattered to her what happened next. She didn't even notice the pain in her shoulder anymore, it was irrelevant. Everyone she loved was gone, everyone who might bring her comfort. She might as well follow suit. Closing her eyes, Hermione ignored her injury and feel asleep beside her friend's body.

===Note===

Tragic, but it had to be done. Harry was in the way of my favorite lovers. I had another scenerio planned where Hermione killed Voldemort with Harry's wand but then the prophecy said that only one of them could kill the other. I thought it would be a nice twist though if they killed each other. Anyways, review please!