Title: An Inevitable Fate
Chapter Forty: The End of All Things
Author: KissThis
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Malfoy x Granger
Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.
Disclaimer: I did not create Harry Potter or any of the characters from the Harry Potter series. I also have a mortal fear of lawyers. Harry Potter and all its rights ©JK Rowling.
A/N: Sorry about the delay – had to recreate. Hope you enjoy this chapter, as I liked it very much when I was writing it.
Dedication: This one is dedicated to my muse, Meg, who, for some reason, has stuck by me through all my faults and complaints – making sure I know when I'm being stupid, and keeping me from throwing myself in front of a moving bus every time my laptop broke. She has shaped me into a better person, and I know for a fact that this story would never have been finished without her. I am eternally grateful to you, Meg, and I am lucky to have known you.
There was no air.
She gasped, trying to fill long-deprived lungs with oxygen, but there was no sound. Trapped within its crystal coffin, Hermione's body bucked, demanding the air that wasn't there. Palms, pressed against the lid, she shoved. Nothing. Her body spasmed wildly and her lips kissed the hard glass.
She was going to die again without ever facing Voldemort.
She screamed – wordless and literally breathless.
CRACK!
Thin, spidery lines branched out over the glass, showering her with fine glass dust. Amber light burst outward and the glass shattered.
Massaging her throbbing throat as she gulped in air, Hermione looked around. The room was different than when she had seen Draco in it. How much time had passed? There were still flowers everywhere, but now every inch of wall space was covered in parchment. Pictures, letters, poems...
She slid off the glass-littered dais and her wobbly legs nearly slipped on the uneven ground. She looked down, fighting off the sudden spell of dizziness to see that she was standing atop a mound of books. Shifting her bare feet she read the title of the topmost book.
Gone With The Wind.
It had been one of her favorites. And beneath that...Sherlock Holmes.
She was vaguely aware of the sirens going off in the background. Apparently, the Order had been afraid that Voldemort would try and take her body – for what purpose Hermione could only imagine in her most terrifying nightmares.
And then, over the scream of the alarm, Hermione heard the distant sounds of a battle.
It had begun.
She spun around, searching for something – anything to use as a weapon. Hovering on its tip, encased in a glass canister, was her wand. Darting around her ruined tomb to the matching pedestal she didn't even pause to think before her fist crashed through the box.
The sirens became louder.
Hermione grabbed her wand and ran.
Up, up, up.
She forced her legs to go faster as she raced up the flight of stairs just outside her room. They'd placed her in the tallest tower and that meant she'd be able to reach the front of the school if she could find a way onto the roof.
A window!
She balanced her weight against it and heaved. It groaned in protest, agreeing with the long decades that had kept it sealed shut. Hinges were blasted off in desperation by Hermione's drawn wand, allowing her to scurry out onto the dangerously sloped turret. The square window – frame, glass, and all – skidded down the roof in front of her and disappeared over the edge. Several shingles knocked loose by the disturbance followed after, clattering to the courtyard beneath.
Running around to the tower's north side, she leapt across a wide gape in the roof line – adrenaline overcoming her better judgment – and landed on the next tower's roof. Her knees screamed from the taking the brunt of the impact. Vibrations of pain shook her legs and when she got up too quickly they nearly buckled.
Her legs finally did give out as she forced herself to run around the spire. She fell hard on her backside leaving a trail of uprooted shingles as she slid down the side of the roof. Her feet hit the rampart first, then the rest of her body as she pitched forward from the unbalanced landing.
Bruised fingers gripped the stone battlements, and pulling herself upright, Hermione looked out over the battle for Earth.
Bodies littered the ground, good and evil alike. Those that weren't dead would be soon, trapped beneath the trampling feet of friend and foe. It was a scene of carnage; both sides surging back and forth, retreating with fewer numbers than the time before – men and women lost beneath the mass grave that encompassed the once peaceful grounds of Hogwarts castle.
But amidst the cooling bodies and the mauled flesh, bursts of green fought their way out of a scorched and blood soaked earth. A bright piece of life trying to survive in this moment of evil and death.
Spring had come to Hogwarts. And with it the most terrible war the wizarding world had ever faced.
Blue and red robed bodies fanned out across the castle entrance, guarding the keep from invasion and protecting the youngest children still inside. Making up the front line were the teachers and black-cloaked students of Hogwarts itself, holding back Voldemort's raging forces. They were being pushed back, unable to keep up with the jump in the Death Eater's attacks.
There were cries from the front and the line retreated. The unfortunate front line of Death Eaters, sensing victory, rushed forward. Blood red sparks exploded into the sky from Durmstrang wands and with ferocious roars they surged past the Hogwarts students, crashing into the Death Eaters and cursing a bloody path through them. But they were not alone.
From the concealing shadows of the castle's sides – amid a cacophony of shrill cries, growls, and shrieks – the second wave joined the battle. A dozen centaurs led the charge, but they were quickly over passed by a pair of rampant chimaeras. The first leapt into the fray, cutting a horrific path deeper into the Death Eaters' ranks, clawing, biting, and tearing limbs from their sockets. The second followed the path of carnage left by its mate – entrails, appendages, and blood exciting its already raised fervor – and together the pair fought deeper, snapping at the heels of fleeing Death Eaters.
Beneath Hermione's feet, the great entrance doors were pulled open by four students, and a rush of Cornish pixies, doxies, and fairies whizzed out followed on the ground by a vast assortment of creatures – all making a straight beeline for the masked figures in the distance.
Flying straight over the front line being held back by the centaurs, the pixies dove down on the second nipping, biting, tugging, pulling, scratching, and turning the Death Eaters in annoyed circles, without enough strength to be any more than a diversion. But that was enough, and as Hermione looked expectantly downwards she saw her peers, amidst the flood of ashwinders underfoot, firing spells into the distracted second line
A tremendous roar thundered through the shouts of battle, and Hermione threw her head back as a scaled underbelly passed over her. A great plume of bright orange fire added to Norbert's entrance as the magnificent dragon winged around the valley and set his sights on the Death Eaters below.
This was Hermione's plan! The one she'd spent days and countless hours in the library preparing, revising, and mapping out – and it was working!
With mounting excitement, Hermione's breath caught as she heard the echoing hawk-like cries arise from the grounds. Half a dozen anxious Beauxbaton students shot off crackling blue sparks, and they and their hippogriff mounts took to the sky to join their dragon ally.
She watched the battle continue onwards, but to her dismay, Voldemort's forces were pushing them back despite help. Setting her jaw, Hermione knew that it was time to join the battle – that they wouldn't win this war without her.
Taking a deep breath she lifted her hand into the air and summoned her power. Light shone in five identical streaks from her finger tips, curving as they shot up into the air and falling back down upon her. Ribbon-like energy exploded from her chest to meet them and the bright white tendrils wrapped themselves around her in complicated twists and knots, burying her sundress beneath their glare. The light faded back into her hand and she was left in the all too familiar black gown and the weight of gossamer wings between her shoulder blades.
Brown-haired and amber-eyed, she was still Hermione Granger. The power that was now mixing with the blood that coursed through her veins was not Hope's. It was her own.
Pressing her wand to her skin, she watched the smoothly polished wood sink beneath the flesh of her right forearm and disappear. Clenching her other hand, there was a jolt of lightening and her blade appeared, pristine and honed to a deadly sheen.
The flashes of light had been too short to draw attention, and for the moment the masses below remained unaware of her presence. Hermione had one foot lifted onto the guardrail – preparing to leap off – when some trick of fate caused the Death Eaters to part in such a way that for the smallest second she could see straight into their center. She glimpsed a scaled hand and glowing crimson eyes before the bodies converged again obscuring Voldemort from sight.
He was hiding within his followers, their bodies providing a far more effective shield than any wall or spell. Voldemort's death was the only thing that would end this brutal war, but that would never happen if he remained concealed. Voldemort had no sense of honor – he felt nothing but the unquenchable desire to preserve himself – and despite how cowardly it might appear, he would not reveal himself.
Hermione had no choice. She had to call him out.
Bringing her sword downward in a fierce, two-handed swing to slam against the stone in a burst of sparks, she screamed at the top of her lungs; "VOLDEMORT!"
The Death Eaters stumbled back in disbelieving shock and fear, leaving the startled forces of light to search for the cause of their retreat. As the entire battlefield's attention was turned to her, she flung out her right hand and a giant white wall of energy slammed into place dividing the two forces for a short time. She didn't want the Death Eaters taking advantage of the shock her appearance was about to bring.
Cries filled the air, and she could pick out her name being screamed into the beginning chaos. Some of them were falling to their knees, others had lifted their arms to her, raised faces visibly tear-streaked. Hermione's gaze darted over them quickly, but she forced her eyes back to where she'd seen Voldemort. She didn't want to find her friends' faces absent from the few left standing.
Reptilian hands shoved their way through black robes, as an angry Dark Lord shoved his minions roughly aside, until they finally relented and backed away until the furious wizard was left standing in an open circle, lined with the Dementors who'd deserted Azkaban prison.
Some of the students took this opportunity to cast their curses at the exposed wizard, but the swirls of magic died away before ever reaching him. Voldemort hadn't stayed alive this long without hundreds of both ancient and modern shields alike protecting him.
"YOU!" He hissed. He crooked inhuman claws at her, and Hermione shivered. She'd forgotten he was more animal than man. No matter how strong she thought she was the thought of what Voldemort could do to her terrified her. "YOU DIED!"
Hermione took the last step up onto the parapet, her bare feet gripping the slick stone as the wind whipped violently around her. "The next time you kill someone you'd better make sure they stay dead!" she called back.
Now she turned to the men and women standing just below her, all staring up at her in awe and wonder. "Listen," she cried. "I know you're tired, and I know that there's grief. But this is not the time! The time to mourn will come – the time for faith is now! You must let go of everything – every fear, every doubt, leave nothing but the faith behind. It's stronger than you know, stronger than anything you've ever believed, stronger even than hope."
She looked down at their trusting faces, and lost her breath. They had faith in her. They were willing to follow her to whatever end – even if it cost them their lives. Her hands clenched. She could not fail them. "Every human being possesses a great slumbering power until awakened by a keen desire and by a definite resolution to do. This battle will be won on our faith, and the trust we place in the love of our friends. Trust, faith, and love..." she said earnestly. "...evil can know no greater enemy."
"I ask you now to stand – stand, and fight back! There may be a day when our strength fails, our courage wanes, and we break all sense of loyalty. But we are strong, and today is not that day. This day – WE END IT!"
Thrusting her sword into the air, she cried out; "FAITH!"
"FAITH!" They echoed her – taking up the call! The passionate battle cry rose in waves, falling away only to be shouted all the louder again.
"FAAAAAAAAITH!" Hermione screamed and leapt off the parapet. At the same time, her quickly constructed wall disappeared, and her warriors surged forward with renewed zeal, their wands glowing and their mouths opened in fanatical cries.
Soaring over the mass of Death Eaters, Hermione sliced her sword downward and an arc of energy echoed the motion, cutting into a half dozen men with sizzling energy. In response, the men's' surrounding comrades shot their killing spells up at her. She dodged two and absorbed another three into her sword, changing the energy and storing it away inside of her.
She shot upwards, higher into the clouds, and out of their sight. A ball of white light flared to life in her right hand and she blasted it downwards from where she'd come. Disappointed, her attack was too long in coming and most of the Death Eaters managed to dodge it, causing less damage than she'd hoped for.
Ducking back below the cloud cover she surveyed the battlefield. A shriek from a creature that had never been human drew her notice and she watched as a Dementor from Voldemort's guard, engulfed in flames, was buried beneath a swarm of crawling ashwinders.
Fire hurts them...I can work with that, she thought. Adjusting her hold on her sword, she brought her fingers to her lips and whistled shrilly. A great roar echoed her. Folding her wings against her back, Hermione allowed herself to free-fall straight down to earth. At the last second, her wings unfurled with a SNAP! and she landed softly upon the juncture between Norbert's neck and shoulders.
Guiding the dragon around, she urged him in Voldemort's direction. Arcing right over them, Norbert turned on a wingtip and let out a great burst of flame in a burning half-circle. Some of the Dementors resolutely maintained their duty of protection, but most took to the air shrieking as their comrades were turned to ash. Voldemort's furious face followed her as she soared past.
Vengeful demons, the Dementors surrounded her, and Hermione screamed as Norbert's wings faltered and they fell. She sent a blast back at them and the burst did not harm them, but it scared them into falling back. Norbert steadied himself again and they rose back upwards.
Greedy for another taste of the dragon's happiness, the Dementors took up pursuit. Hermione managed to hold them off with a few well aimed balls of energy, but one would sometimes get too close and Norbert's scaled body would shudder beneath her. She led Norbert in complicated aerial maneuvers, but the Dementors would not be deterred.
Slashing out at one with her sword she forced it to the side, and turned Norbert in a sickeningly tight turn to face her aggressor. "NOW!" She yelled over the wind, and two bold jets of fire burst from the dragon's nostrils. Shrieking and flailing pitifully the creature fell burning from the sky and disappeared into the battle below.
Silver flashed across her vision and another Dementor flew over her head. Urging Norbert forward, she chased the fleeing creature. "NOW!" She shouted once they were close enough, and a second Dementor joined the first as an ashy pile amongst the bodies.
Circling back to the remaining demons, her eyes caught silver again and her heart soared as a great, glowing stag barreled into one of the Dementors sending it spiraling her way. Norbert eagerly incinerated it, without waiting for her signal.
"Harry," she whispered.
The Patronus fell into step beside the flying dragon, its galloping hooves grazing the clouds. The last two Dementors appeared screeching in front of them, and the silvery stag leapt ahead of her. Drawn to the feeling of happiness, they converged on it – they're slitted mouths wide, trying to suck the creature inside of them. The stag never halted its pace, and the Dementors never even moved as it trampled them, knocking them out of the sky.
"NOW!"
Norbert's flames caught them as they fell and their still roasting bodies hit the ground with a wet, splattering sound. Hermione turned at the waist to look back at the conjured Patronus.
"Thank you, Harry." She whispered – the wind catching the words.
Then the stag bowed its magnificent head – as if it had heard her – and disappeared. Hermione didn't try to repress the joy that now filled her heart. Harry was alive. And he knew she was alive as well.
Wishing for more sport, Norbert turned towards the diminishing forces of the Dark Lord, and Hermione unfurled her wings, catching the wind and allowing it to push her back, and off of the dragon. She swooped down over the fighting students, and the cheers of 'faith' began again in earnest.
Alighting atop the rampart once more, Hermione looked out over the battle from her vantage point. "COME OUT!" She shouted. "FACE ME, VOLDEMORT!"
Her heart in her throat, and her hand painfully gripping the handle of her sword, she watched the Dark Lord rise into the air. No wings, or spells, but the pure strength of his will held him in the air. "Are you going to kill me?" he sneered, and she heard every word as if the distance between them were naught but a few inches.
"Yes," she replied evenly.
"You can't kill me..." he hissed, tongue slipping between fanged teeth.
Hermione lifted her sword in front of her face, and mustered her courage. "May God have mercy on you, for you'll receive none from me."
Voldemort laughed, and it was a painful, grating sound that churned the insides and raised the gooseflesh on her arms. The slit of a mouth cracked – looking as if his face was splitting – baring broken, jagged teeth in a mutilated smile.
"A Christian witch," he hissed, revealing what he'd found so amusing. "How ironic..."
He twirled his wand between spindly, brittle fingers – it hadn't been there a moment before. The beating of her heart sped up its thump-thumping against her rib cage. Still harboring the maniacal expression that passed for amusement on his snake-like face, he looked at her with the eerie eyes that haunted many a dreams. "Let us test your faith..."
Hermione didn't even realize he'd cast a spell before it washed over her and she felt something solid and unyielding slam into her back. Her head snapped backwards from the force of the blow and stars burst painfully across her vision. Another object crashed into the backs of her arms and her teeth rattled in her jaws. The smell of pine assailed her nose and ropes twisted around her wrists and ankles, binding her to the wood. She struggled automatically, but her fervent flailing only tightened her bonds.
Only seconds after it had been cast, Voldemort's spell was ended, and Hermione was left reeling. He was so powerful, that for all her supernatural abilities, she hadn't even seen it coming. Still in shock, she missed the second spell until blue light filled her vision. But even if she had, she wouldn't have been able to act fast enough.
There was itching in her palms, and she had one thought about its oddity, before pain exploded in her hands, shooting straight up her arms. Something slammed into her legs and blood sprayed outwards as the bones shattered. The same driving pain exploded in her crossed ankles, and only then did she scream. In the span of a mere second, her body had been mutilated and broken – too fast for her to scream until it was all over.
The ropes fell away and without their support her body sagged downwards and she screamed again, the objects impaling her tearing upwards through muscle and flesh. Voldemort's maniacal laughter echoed dully in her mind and she gritted her teeth against the pain to force her head to lift. People were screaming below her, and the realization of what Voldemort had done hit her.
He'd nailed her to a cross.
"What do you think of your God now?" He sneered. "Do you feel honored to share in his Son's humiliation?"
Hermione blinked her eyes rapidly to clear the tears and her head. But it was difficult. She couldn't breath. Why? Why couldn't she breathe? She forced herself to remember.
Asphyxiation
That's right. In this position her lungs were terribly compressed and her trouble exhaling was due to their hyperextension. Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself upwards by her arms, using the nail through her ankles as something to press against. The pent up carbon dioxide exploded outwards and she sucked in another breath of air. The pain was excruciating, but she was able to breath. Quite apart from the pain however, the position was tiring to maintain for long periods of time.
She could have lasted hours, her body slowly suffocating as her legs lost the strength to support her, but Voldemort wasn't known for his patience. With shattered legs she'd be dead in minutes.
"Is this the mighty champion of God and the Light?" His hissing laughter, cut at her heart. "I've broken you with a single spell."
Her arms were shaking from the effort of support her and her precious breaths were gasps of pain. "You cannot break me."
"If you could only see yourself," Voldemort laughed. "You are a pitiful and ruined little girl."
Hermione's arms failed her and she fell downwards to the sound of tearing flesh. She cried out, but unable to exhale, her scream was a gurgling and piteous sound. The warm blood that trickled down her wrists sped up as her panicked heart sped up the flow of blood. A soundless cough and dark black blood trickled from the corners of her mouth.
If she didn't suffocate first she'd succumb to cardiac failure, blood loss, shock or dehydration. None of which would be painless.
Lights swimming across her vision, she tried to curl her fingers around the wooden crossbeam and was rewarded with another surge of crimson. She heaved herself upwards, and then nearly fell again as stabbing pains burst up her shattered legs.
Panting at the effort, she traded for oxygen to fill her lungs – prolonging her death by suffocation for another few minutes. "Does it please you to watch me die?" she wheezed.
Through the curtain of her hair she saw that mangled excuse of a smile and felt nothing but regret that she hadn't killed him sooner. "I enjoy seeing your faith crumble."
Hermione laughed so suddenly that he jumped back. Blood sprayed from her lips, staining her teeth cherry and splattering scarlet specks across her chin and cheeks. "You know nothing of faith," she gasped, lips twisting in a tired and bloody half-smile. "You cannot touch me..."
Voldemort snapped reptilian jaws and his red eyes flashed. "You shall die soon..."
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," she whispered. "I will fear no evil..." Hermione felt her soul pulling at its host of flesh, and she smiled despite the flaming pain, closing her eyes as she slipped away.
Hermione rose up above her body and watched the empty shell sag forward as the muscles in her arms spasmed and gave out. Floating around to the front of her body, she glanced at Voldemort, but his eyes went straight through her, fixated on the broken flesh she'd left behind; unable to see her. Lungs compressed, the breath died on rose red lips and her body shut down.
With Voldemort's triumphant cackles echoing behind her, Hermione slipped down into the battling ranks of students. She glided through the masses, touching some – just a hand on their shoulder – and they fell away, allowing her to pass. Their awe-filled faces were engrained in her memory and she would never forget the sound of their crying as she left them behind; realizing in her wake the awful truth.
There was a bright haze of green up ahead of her, and as the students parted she saw him waiting for her.
"Hermione?" his voice cracked. "Is it really you?"
She nodded, "Yes. Thank you for your help."
He hugged her so suddenly that she stumbled back a step, her body tensing up and her arms stuck stiffly out to the sides. His grip around her torso was so tight that for a moment she flashed back to the suffocation she'd felt upon the cross, but when she returned the embrace it was her supporting him as his legs gave out.
"Everything's alright now, Harry," she whispered, running her hand through his raven hair, clumped together with dried blood.
"How?"
She comforted him, as a mother would a tiny child; rocking him in her arms and holding him close. "Faith," she murmured into his hair. "Have faith, Harry."
"You were dead..." Harry whispered. "I-I didn't think..."
"Shh," she hushed him softly. "I'm here now. I'll protect you."
The muscles in his back tightened beneath her hand and she frowned. She thought of pulling away, but Harry's fists were twisted in the black silk of her dress. "What's going to happen?"
"I'm going to destroy Voldemort once and for all."
"But what about you?"
Hermione shook her head, her curls bouncing against Harry's cheek. "There's not the time. I have to go, or it will be too late."
"Too late for what?" his voice held a tinge of distress.
Placing her hands over his, she pulled them from their vise-like grip and took a step back. Harry's face was smudged with dirt and his eyes were dark, but he'd fought back the tears. She smiled.
"You're so strong, Harry," she sighed. "Watch over the others and tell them goodbye for me..."
"We're here."
Red and silver flashed behind Harry's green light and she stepped aside to see them more clearly.
"Hermione...you're alive!"
Hermione's lips spread themselves in a thin line and she looked at the speaker with sorrowful eyes. "My death was no one's fault but my own, Ron." She said quietly, but the red-head flinched as if her words had struck him. "Severus was not to blame..."
"You...you could see me from...up there?" He whispered.
Hermione nodded, "I saw enough."
Harry looked sideways at Ron, but the red-head was staring at the ground.
"Please...tell me you did not kill him," she said. "The truth."
Ron was silent for a long time. Then he looked up and his eyes were awash with tears. "I did not..." he whispered.
Hermione met his eyes and there was no lie inside them. She smiled, relief uncoiling the fear she'd held inside. "I'm glad," she replied throatily. "I would not have you become a murderer on my behalf."
He hugged himself, looking suddenly cold; his body was shaking. "I knew you were watching...wherever you were."
"I will always watch over you," she told him with conviction. And he smiled.
Then when she could no longer bear to ignore his presence, she turned to face Draco standing off to the side. Blood staining blonde locks, tattered cloak and robes, and a pale face peering out through the dirt and grim, to Hermione he looked like the handsomest man in the world.
"Draco..."
All the resolve and will that she'd maintained through the reunions with her friends, crumbled as she stared into those gray-blue eyes that she'd never forget in countless millennia. The choked back sobs came first and then the first trickling tears as she fell against him. He caught her in his strong arms and guided them both to the ground.
"I missed you so much," she sobbed. Her nails dug into his shoulders, giving her purchase as she pressed as much of herself to him as she could. She felt as though she'd die if they were parted.
"You're cold..." he whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear and his rich baritone soothing her quaking shoulders.
"I'm dying," she hiccupped. His body shifted beneath her and she knew he was looking up at her crucified body, twitching in unconsciousness and bleeding out her life force to a thick, congealing, crimson pool along the rampart.
"I was so lost, Hermione, but..." Her face was pressed against his neck, fat tears rolling down into his robes, when he whispered to her. "I never gave up on you."
This only made her cry harder. Harry and Ron looked on helplessly as their best friend broke down, and the battle raged on around them. Time was slipping away. A gentle hand brushed the curls from her eyes, caressing her damp cheek. With trembling lips, Hermione pulled herself upwards and pressed her mouth to Draco's trying to convey everything into that single kiss.
When she finally broke it, their foreheads were pressed together and their eyes only inches apart. "I love you," he said.
"I love you too," Hermione choked and buried her head in his chest.
"Then stay..."
"I-I can't," she sobbed. With each passing moment more tears fell and her distress rose. "I want to so badly..."
"Why can't you?"
His questions were so simple, but their answers were anything but. "God, Draco. I want to stay with you so much it hurts. I'd give anything for a white picket fence and a dog, to be married to you with children and then grandchildren. I'd give anything to be with you till we've grown old, and 'until death do us part'." She managed to get every word out before sobbing again. "But this is what I have to do."
"No..." he murmured. He took her face in his hands, thumbs unconsciously wiping away the tears. "Someone else can fight Voldemort – it doesn't have to be you."
She met his pleading gaze with sorrowful eyes. "There is no one else," she whispered.
This time, Draco buried his head against her shoulder, and it was him whose body shook with silent tears.
"You cannot face Voldemort alone," Harry said, from beside her.
Hermione shook her head, "I am not alone at all. I was never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. I have you all with me. And I have my faith."
"Are you going to die?"
Hermione looked up at Ron and sighed, "I do not wish to, but I will do whatever it takes to kill him."
"But without you, there is no hope for us," Harry pleaded.
Hermione looked around at the men of life and she smiled through the tears. "But there is always love," she replied, echoing the words she'd spoken to Hope.
"You once told me 'love conquers all'," Draco finally said, pulling back. "Was that a lie?"
She shook her head. "No, but love cannot stop death – it just continues on after it. Just as you three will continue on without me, until eternity calls you home."
"And then we'll all be together again," Harry finished.
Hermione's head snapped up and when she saw the hopeful look in her friend's eyes she broke down into tears. No, Harry...I'll watch over you...but never again can we be together. Knowing that she'd never see her friends ago...never again be with Draco killed her more effectively than any spell or sword. But still, she could not bring herself to tell them the truth. They did not deserve that weight upon their souls.
"R-Right," she stammered, unable to meet his eyes. Crying bitter and piteous tears for herself, she buried her head in her hands and cried heart-wrenching sobs. And none of the boys could figure out why.
Draco pulled the bawling girl into his arms, desperately trying to comfort her. "Hermione?"
"I wanted to tell you no," Hermione confessed suddenly as they huddled together. "That I didn't love you. I could have spared you so much pain if I had left you hating me when I died. But I was selfish."
"No, you're not," Draco swore firmly. "You're the least selfish person I know."
Hermione gave a watery smile and reached up tentatively to brush back the blonde bangs, as she had longed to do for so long. "I just wanted to hear you say it…" she whispered. "one last time..."
Looking over his shoulder, Hermione's eyes met sapphire. There was an insistent tugging just behind her navel, and the last thing she heard was Draco shouting her name.
She slammed back into her dying body with a force that rocked the entire contraption. Her head snapped up and she gasped – filling empty lungs with air – meeting Voldemort's crimson stare. Her left eye was glowing amber.
"What?!" Voldemort screeched.
She smirked; a gruesome expression with the blood splattered across her face, and with a sigh eased her body forward. The thick nails passed straight through her body as she pulled away from them, and she showed no indication of pain, or even discomfort.
"THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!" Voldemort bellowed.
Hermione held up her hands, palm outwards, for observation and stunned onlookers watched as bone regrew, muscles reknit, and new skin was stretched from the old, until both hands and feet were as they were before. Flawless.
Golden light burst around her for the briefest of seconds and when Hermione's appearance was revealed it was if a line had been drawn directly down her center. On the right side, Hermione Granger still survived with curly brown hair, and ordinary amber eyes, but on the left it was Hope's straight blonde hair and glowing golden eyes that filled her face. Soft pink lips changed to ruby red just as Hermione's black gown turned to Hope's white in a perfect line that went straight through her navel. Hope's hand held the sword, and Hermione's fingers were crooked around a floating ball of energy.
"I am here to deliver judgment," Hope-Hermione spoke in an empty tone that held traces of each voice. "You've been found guilty for your crimes against mankind. The punishment is death."
"You cannot kill me..." Voldemort retorted. "I am the most powerful wizard alive."
Hermione lifted her sword, "But we are a god."
And to everyone below, she seemed to just disappear. Moving too fast for the human eye to follow, Voldemort and Hermione flickered in and out of sight – the final fight had begun.
Green energy blasted up from beneath her, but Hermione absorbed it, spinning around and bringing up her sword as Voldemort attacked again. Sparks exploded as their attacks collided, catching each other in a stalemate. Voldemort's dark magic pressed against her sword, but Hermione's face was still blank and she held her own. Gritting broken teeth, Voldemort disappeared and Hermione's attack sliced harmlessly through the empty space.
She dodged his next attack, spinning off to the side and trying to blast him as he rushed past, but he too disappeared before the magic hit. He charged her from the side and she met the spell with her sword and they become visible to the rest of the world again as they fought to push the one another back.
Outside spells ricocheted at her, but like with Voldemort they dissipated before reaching her, crackling away into nothing.
"Magic can't hurt her you fools!" He hissed.
Hermione rolled sideways, lashing out as he vanished. Blood tipped her sword, and when he reappeared there was a slender cut etched across his reptilian cheek. Her blade had caught the ties of his cloak and the cowl had fallen away bearing his snake-like face. Still keeping one eye on him, she whirled around to catch a small throwing knife that had been heading for her back. Lightening fast, she sent it back the way of its owner and a Death Eater went down, the blade buried up to its hilt in his neck.
"You can't fight me and my warriors at the same time," Voldemort told her as she absorbed another spell into her sword. She sent a ball of energy his way and his image flickered in and out of sight as he reappeared off to the right.
"I don't have to," She replied monotonously.
Their attacks crashed together once more, popping and cracking with excess energy as wills were bent upon each other. Voldemort's only warning was the brief flickering in Hermione's one human eye, before she flung herself to the side and the knife that had been intended for her headed straight for him. Throwing his hand up to catch it, the dark wizard gave a howl and disappeared.
Holding her sword in both hands, Hermione waited for him to reappear, slowly turning in a circle. An inhuman growl coming from her left alerted her to his presence and she was greeted by a ghastly sight. Clutching the dagger in his left hand, Voldemort's right was a bloody mess. He'd caught the knife point first.
He rushed her, face twisted in a furious snarl, and Hermione jumped back as he struck again and again with the small blade. Slicing and jabbing he forced Hermione onto the defensive, but she parried his attacks with fluid ease and finally knocking the dagger from his hand.
Her aura spiked and she thrust towards him while his disarmament still had him off balanced. Voldemort managed to counterattack in time, but this time was different. Hermione had set her sights on his heart, and she was bending her ever ounce of power upon it. She forced her blade through the haze of dark energy that protected him, inch by inch. In a rare abandonment of her empty expression, Hermione smiled as the tip of her blade pressed against his robes.
Voldemort looked up into her merciless eyes and for the first time in his life he knew fear. "KILL HER YOU FOOLS!" He screamed desperately. "BRING HER DOWN!"
Fiber by fiber broke as the steel was shoved deeper. Voldemort hissed as the cold tip touched skin. Held in both hands the sword was shaking from the strength of the magic being shoved through it by her right hand, but Hermione seemed to have no problem gripping it as she leaned forward.
"It pleases me to watch you die..." she whispered.
Voldemort's eyes widened, and he knew. He was staring into the face of death.
"The prophecy was broken," he grunted under the strain of holding her back, refusing to believe.
That sickening smile widened, sword moving another inch deeper. "That's the tricky thing about prophecies. If you hadn't killed me...I would never have had the power to destroy you."
Voldemort roared. He'd been tricked! The dark energy around him thickened, fueled by his rage, and ever so slowly Hermione's blade was forced back. She frowned slightly at the turn of events, and then cocked her head to the side as if she'd heard something.
Without warning she turned her body sideways, flinging her right hand outwards. A dozen yards away, held back by the invisible wall of Hermione's power, a barrage of weapons hung suspended in mid-air. Spears, swords, even rocks – the Death Eaters had thrown everything they could find at her. They quivered slightly, aching to break through the shield.
Hope still held the sword against Voldemort's chest, but her face was contorted with the effort of maintaining her killing blow. Hermione was likewise facing the same difficulties. Together they were strong, but separated they crumbled.
"Now it is you who will die," Voldemort's tongue slipped between his slitted lips as he hissed at her.
"I will see your evil purged from this planet," Hope grunted, her strength waning. The blade was being pushed farther and farther back, and try as she might, she could not force it back.
Hermione's arm was shaking and the weapons jerked forward a half foot. "I'll fight you until my body shatters," she cried out. The metal weapons glinted in the sunlight, ready and waiting for her powers to give out. She gritted her teeth, preparing herself to do whatever it took to destroy Voldemort.
Unknowing what was about to happen next, the side of Light cheered "faith" again and again. Fists raised into the air, cheering on their straining warrior. Resigned and sorrowful amber eyes closed, and their voices joining together once more, Hope and Hermione cried out; "WE WILL DEFEAT YOU!"
The last thing she saw was Draco's face, and then Hermione shoved all her power into Hope. Amidst Voldemort's dying gasps, the sword buried itself up to the hilt in his chest, spraying blood everywhere as the major arteries were severed. At the same time, the weapons Hermione had held at bay found their mark.
A spear burst straight through her face as she turned to meet the attack; rupturing one amber eye and forcing the other from its socket. Torso skewered with swords, another blade divested her of her left arm and a curved knife got caught between muscle and flesh in her thigh. Rocks battered her and turned the exposed skin a sickly bruised hue, while three arrows buried themselves in her breast, their fellows tearing her gown to tatters and dotting her body with an array of feathered shafts. Blood was everywhere.
She was dead instantly.
All the magic that she'd changed and stored up inside her exploded in a brilliant burst of white light; the force so strong that it kept her body from falling. Hundreds of tiny sparkling lights rained down upon the battlefield, and as the first glitter landed upon Voldemort's mangled form, his body glowed white and vanished. Seeing this, the remaining Death Eaters panicked and tried to run. But each sparkle found its mark and all across the valley bodies burst into light and vanished.
When the supernova faded, the only people left standing were those of the Light. They were all looking around in confused shock, save for one.
"HERMIONE!" Draco was running towards her.
The magic long gone, Hermione fell to her knees, teetering for a second, before she dropped forward and the spear butt thudded into the dirt. She hung grossly suspended for a moment before her head slid slowly down the spear shaft with a revolting squelching sound, a nauseating trail of blood and brains glistening behind it. Sprawled limply out across the ground, her body did not move again.
A tiny spark of light, the very last glitter, winked in and out of sight as it floated down from the clouds towards Hermione's body. Flaring for the briefest of seconds it landed lightly within her upturned hand and melted away. Draco leapt desperately at her, but her body was already glowing milky white and within a second she'd disappeared. Draco slid through the blood stained dirt where Hermione had been just moments before and lay there shaking, unable to find the strength to stand.
There was no sound, and then a high keening sound began. It was matched by another cry and another, until the piercing song was echoing through the valley. The hippogriffs kneeled, throwing their heads back as they gave their wordless cries. Norbert's head bowed, joining in the magical creatures' lament. Every beast mourned the slain champion, unceasing in their haunting song.
The warriors of the Light wandered aimlessly, lost and forlorn, wondering how to continue on. They'd been left behind to pick up the pieces – and the bodies – with sorrow weighing heavily on their hearts and minds.
Voldemort was dead, his army defeated. The war was ended and the world had been saved from evil once and for all. This was what they'd all been fighting for and yet, as they avoided one another's gaze, as they caught a friend's face in the strewn bodies of the fallen, as they glimpsed Draco's shuddering form – they began to wonder if they had truly won after all...and if the price of their victory had been too great...
THE END
There may or may not be an epilogue. Depends on what you want. But if there isn't one by the end of the week, then it's unlikely there ever will be.
Note to the readers:
I just wanted to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart. It's been nearly a year and a half now, and for those of who have been with me since the beginning you'll never know how much each and every one of you means to me. Through good times and bad, through writer's blocks and broken laptops, you've all been there with a kind word and your wonderful encouragement. I doubt I'd ever have finished this story without all the amazing reviews written, and I'd like to thank you again for taking the time to write out your thoughts to me. They meant the world to me and served, on many occasion, as the last bit of encouragement needed to overcome my chronic procrastination.
May your lives be as bright as you've made mine, and never forget that you could make a wonderful difference in someone else's life. Please keep reading – whether its my story or someone else's – and keep reviewing, because there's nothing better than that to look forward to. It has been the highlight of my fanfiction career, and I hope I'm as lucky in my fans for future stories.
I love all of you,
Katzy