Author's Note: Alright this one was the hardest to write. I mean, what does Hermione want most in the world? Argh.

Oh, and by the way, I got out of school for the summer yesterday, so expect many postings.

Chapter 2

Blue Eyes

"So...er...who's going next?" Harry asked, feeling a bit more cautious after Ron's turn.

"I will," Hermione said bravely. Figuring it'd be better than sitting next to her defeated-looking friend, she glanced at Ron, then went to the box. The Rose had recovered and was now squirming around like before. Hermione reached in, with one finger out and closed her eyes, inching closer. The Rose froze and then the vines caught and wrapped around her hand. They swallowed her arm and engulfed her shoulder, before settling the core on her chest. By then, she had sat down on the stool that Ron had moved off of.

The needle pierced her. She gasped, and then her head bobbed forward and her eyes rolled. Her hair fell in front of her face.

Ron felt sorry for her. He leaned her head against the wall, and brushed her hair from her face gently. Harry watched as Ron's hand lingered a moment too long on her cheek. He thought he knew something of what Ron's dream must have included.


Hermione shuffled through some papers on her desk in the Headmaster's office of Hogwarts. A portrait of wizened old Dumbledore looked happily down at her and she smiled at her old mentor. She then set her quill to answering a letter from the Ministry about the fourth Tri-Wizard Tournament that was scheduled for next year, as she stroked Fawkes, whom she had inherited as a gift form Dumbledore himself.

The door swung open and was followed by the Minster of Magic: Neville Longbottom. Neville was dressed in fine green and blue robes. A pocket watch chain hung from one of his embroidered pockets. His face was troubled and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Good afternoon, Neville," Hermione said carefully, hoping that for him this was indeed a good afternoon. She took her hand from Fawkes and interlocked her fingers on the desk, lifting an eyebrow at the apparent emotional state of her friend.

"Afternoon, Hermione," he said hurriedly, barely stepping through the door. "You must hurry. We'll be late the trial."

Hermione gasped. "I thought it was at four," she said, starting up and gathering a few of her papers.

"They moved it again. Trying that old trick they used with Harry in fifth year. Trying to make us miss it." Neville stood near the door, fidgeting and shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot.

"Alright, I'm coming." Hermione weaved around tall stacks of books and towards the door. Right before she walked out, she swung around. "Professor Dumbledore, could you alert Harry and the Council that we are on our way and should be there shortly? Thank you." The old Headmaster nodded and disappeared silently from his painting.

Hermione and Neville descended a flight of stairs towards the teacher's lounge, where the best fireplace in the school was. No one was in the lounge, it was during class hours. They each grabbed a small handful of Floo Powder and entered the intricate stone fireplace one at a time.

Using Floo Powder, they were at the Ministry in moments. A quick brushing off of soot and they were ready for Draco Malfoy's murder trial. They rushed down to the last floor the lifts reached and hurried down the corridor, ignoring waving armor statues and paintings giggling at the frazzled looking officials.

Harry was waiting for them at the entrance to the long corridor leading to Courtroom Number Six, where Draco and the Ministry were waiting. He leaned against the wall, messing with the sprout of hair on his chin.

"H'lo, Hermione," he said, lowering his hand and merging to their lessened pace.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said, smiling at him. He smiled and the scar on his forehead was concealed by his fringe. It had faded considerably since they had defeated Voldemort at Godric's Hollow years ago. Harry had become considerably more comfortable and contented, personality wise, since then as well. "Sorry we're late."

"It's fine. Not like he's going anywhere," Harry said with obvious indirect disdain, as his smile quickly vanished.

They entered the chamber. It was cold as Draco's heart and none brighter.

Malfoy was being charged with countless murders of Muggles and Muggle-borns during and after the war. Now he was being brought to justice. Nothing, absolutely nothing could have made Hermione happier than this.

Ron, sitting in his chair in the rows of the court, leaned forward and winked at her.

Well, almost nothing.

Hermione sat on Neville's right hand, and on Ron's left, and Harry, the top Auror in the magical world, sat at the Minister's left. Ron slid his hand over and grabbed hers, discreetly squeezing it for courage.

This was Malfoy's last trial. Never again would he be brought before the court. The verdict was to be announced in moments.

"Draco Malfoy," Neville, beginning Malfoy's trial summarization, stood up. Draco swung his head to stare at the Minister. It had to be unnerving for Neville, with those frighteningly senseless eyes fixed on him. Malfoy's prematurely greying hair was unruly and matted. He looked insane. "You are brought here under numerous charges of kidnapping, torture and murder. How do you plead?"

"Innocent. I kidnapped, tortured and murdered," he said, mocking Neville, "nothing but animals." He began laughing. He sat in the chair in the center of the room, chains wrapped around his limbs. His eyes rolled and wandered, he breathed loudly through his mouth in between insane cackles. It was believed by many that Voldemort had driven him mad. Hermione believed it too, and held Ron's hand tightly.

The trial went on, the condensed evidence undisputable. He was guilty. No one could say otherwise except himself. But everyone knew he was crazy. Harry had captured Draco not without a struggle after one of his murderous sprees, and Harry had a another scar on his arm from his former classmate.

He was found guilty of all charges and sentenced to the Dementors' Kiss. Most Dementors had been destroyed after the war. But a few had been saved, and magically imprisoned themselves, for the closest followers of Voldemort, who had never blinked at murder and torture.

All of them had been rounded up and imprisoned. They got what they deserved. Draco was getting the last Kiss.

"Hermione, it's over. Malfoy was the last," Ron whispered. "After eleven years, the war is completely over," he said, more to himself than her.


"She looks happy, doesn't she?" Ron said quietly. The leaf had made him feel better, but he was still a bit shaky.

"Yeah. Wonder what she's thinking." Harry fidgeted and watched some of the other students in the room. But he just couldn't take it anymore. "Erm...Ron...What happened?"

Ron diverted his saddened blue eyes and shrugged. "Nothing really," he sighed. "Just a nightmare."

The Rose bloomed spectacularly just then. Harry sprinkled the powder among the petals.


Draco was being hauled away by two Aurors at wand point, laughing and mumbling to himself (Hermione was reminded of Sirius' old house-elf, Kreacher). They were taking him to Azkaban to receive his Kiss.

Suddenly, he twisted sharply and grabbed one of the Auror's wands. Two Killing Curses. That's all he needed. He was deadly fast and infamous for the fact that he never hesitated. He was a born killer. Two corpses collapsed to the floor. Hermione's heart filled with a rage she hadn't felt in years, not since the day Voldemort was killed.

He Apparated up to where Hermione, Harry, Neville and Ron now stood. They dared not move. No one else did either. The four of them held secrets no one else knew. If any one of them were killed, so much could be lost. No one in the room moved. The blond rat used the Imperius Curse to control four wizards near them to hold Neville, Ron and Hermione. No matter what anyone said of him, they couldn't deny that Draco was powerful.

"Potter," Draco spat. "You've ruined my life." He cast a short blast of the Crutacius Curse. "But more importantly you ruined my father's." Tears seeped from Draco's endlessly cold eyes. Another quick spell. By now Harry was on his knees, panting in pain, but it was his infectious resolve to never scream for a Death Eater that kept him silent. "And above all," he said with a malicious grin, as Harry slowly raised his hateful eyes, "you devastated the Dark Lord's noble plans for a pure race of wizards. But I digress" -yet another Curse here- "I take great honor in being the one who finally takes your fluke of a life." Draco's eyes seemed to portray a deeper hatred than Hermione had ever seen as he flicked his wand one last time and screamed, "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry collapsed to the stone floor, murdered the same way as the parents he had never known.

Draco turned his heartless eyes on Neville, who was held by one large wizard. Neville spat on the floor in front of him. Draco laughed and spat in Neville's face.

"Longbottom," he said. He laughed at just Neville's name. "You are a disgrace to purebloods. I'm ashamed to even look at you and Weasley. Our race was, is, being infected. Muggle-borns and half-bloods, leaking wizardly information to their Muggle," he practically spat the word, "species. Soon there will be Muggles begging us to fulfill their deepest wishes. And for what! Their benefit. They will burn us and murder us until we are no more. Don't you understand!" He grabbed Neville's face under his chin and shook his head. "I didn't think so." A green burst of light that no one expected and the large wizard dropped Neville's body on the ground.

"Now," Draco grinned maliciously. He pulled out a round black stone and forced Ron and Hermione to touch it. The Port Key took them to a dark dungeon. Draco chained them to the wall. Their wands were taken. The chains were covered with dried blood, but Hermione couldn't care less.

He tortured them until Ron bled from struggling in his chains and Hermione bit her lip so deep that it, too, bled. They would not give him their screams.

"Mudblood. Muggle-lover. Disgusting girl. Pathetic child." Draco yelled and swung his wand back and forth between them, giving them their turn in short bursts. Ron passed out finally, and Draco spoke.

"Granger." He turned his deathlike eyes on her once again. "You should never have come into our world."

She expected him to kill her. She almost wanted him to, to escape the pain, her own and the indirect ache caused by seeing Ron in so much pain that she couldn't stop.

She was almost accepting of her death when she found a terribl, wonderful feeling flooding her senses. She knew it, and as soon as her foggy mind registered what it was, she tried to scream. She tried, but she couldn't.

It was the Imperius Curse. Only Draco could be this cruel. The Curse took over completely then.

"Stand up, Granger," he said, a smile in his voice. She felt so compelled to obey, why not? Standing, she hit the limit of her restraints. Draco magically unlocked them.

"Come here, Mudblood." She took a step.

No! Stop! her mind screamed. Harry can beat this, so can you! Don't do it! Try as she might, another step, and another were the only things to follow her internal conflict.

As she approached him, Draco slid a wand out of his sleeve. It was hers. He held it out to her handle first grinning wickedly. "Take it," he said. His voice was so persuasive now. She took it, stiffly, as thought she were a puppet, and not nearly as alive as she felt, struggling against her body.

Draco turned to Ron, who groaned and looked up, to find Hermione not where she had been, chained against the opposite wall, but standing sedately next to the lunatic who had murdered his best friend and Neville, and so many others. What had happened?

Draco leaned in to Hermione and whispered in her ear. "Kill him."

NO! Never! Her mind reeled. She had to fight it, to stop this. She couldn't, wouldn't. She loved Ron, she could never hurt him, much less kill him!

"Kill him," Draco hissed impatiently. Ron didn't hear. Hermione struggled, and her body began to shake. "Imperio!" Draco said, pointing his wand at her. The spell was reinforced, and she levels her wand at Ron.

His eyes widened in horrible realization. "Hermione," he said quietly, standing up. "Hermione, do it. There's nothing left. We can't escape. This war will never stop. Harry is dead, Neville is dead. We don't have the power to stop him anymore." He looked up at her. "I love you."

Her mouth cast the spell, and a horrendous flare of green light lit the dungeon. A tall, dark mass of robes fell to the floor. Ron's beautiful, empty blue eyes stared up at Hermione, as the curse released her.


Hermione jerked awake. She squeaked and shoved the Rose off of her like it was white hot. Breathing as if she had just been chased by an angry hippogriff, she stared off at nothing. Harry handed her a leaf and she put it on her tongue. Getting the nerve to look at Ron, she met his eyes and held his lively stare.

A/N: Whew. That was a sucky chapter to write. Please please please review that. I hope you like it more than I do. I mean, I like it. But wow. Just...arrgh.

Review replies:

Dark Fire Chain: Thank you. I've got Harry's reality finished, and I'm just tweaking it and such.

Jeevesandwooster: Oh, thank you so much. I had to change this one a bunch, or I would've posted sooner, now I'm out of school, so I'll be posting a lot.

Hydraspit: Thanks. Yeah, I didn't bother with details at first, I just wanted to see if it was a decent idea. Now I hope I have more fulfilled the detail quota. Thanks for reviewing!

Mrs.MaryGrint479: Thank you, I'm doing all three of the trio's obviously. Harry's is finished for the most part, I just have to tweak it a bit.

Angal10: Thank you so much. Reviews in capital letters always make me feel awesome.

Twisted-fate05: Thanks! I'll probably post Harry's reality soon.