Chapter Ten

December that year-

Wand at hand, I stood in the front of the crowd, facing them.

Them, the ones who killed off numerous loved ones; the ones who attacked so often that the students had to stay at Hogwarts over the summer; the ones who took away our old innocence and frivolous behaviors and the remains of our childhood. Them, the deatheaters… and Voldemort himself.

The snow was white right now, on the battle field next to Hogwarts Lake. I knew it would soon be stained with red and pink blood stains. The cold was biting at our bodies, but we barely noticed for our fear and determination.

As I carefully viewed the faces of the light side, I saw that much was made up of students that just graduated or still in school. They proudly let their faces show in the frosty December wind. The deatheaters were masked.

I took a deep breath and lifted my chin a little bit higher. The anxiousness paused for a millisecond and came back to me once more.

I had thought and dreamed about this moment for a long time now. But nothing I felt before could compare with the real thing. It was really happening. No more hiding and no more playing safe. No more pretend and no more fantasizing. It was now.

The Final Battle.

It was just beginning. The first shot had not even been fired yet. It was as if we were waiting for someone to, but we weren't sure how to start it ourselves. As of the moment, we stood on our side, the light side, facing each other; the tension was so thick, you could cut it with a butter knife.

Somehow, it began. I ran forward and shot spells of my own. Draco was by my side; and yes, we were still together. Our orders were to kill. Kill them all, and win at any cost.

The only curses used were for torturing but mainly killing. That was to be expected. No more second- year curses to be used in duels.

"Avada Kedavra!" I shouted at a deatheater about to attack a seventh year I didn't know. (Remember, I had already graduated.) His body fell to the floor, stiff as a board. The seventh year thanked me quietly and white- faced, he ran off.

I just brought down my first kill. I didn't like it. No matter that it was a deatheater- I had just killed another person.

Pull yourself together, Hermione! I chided myself. If I wanted to do my part, I would just have to get used to it.

All of a sudden, I found myself in a headlock and a wand pointed at my throat.

"Hello," the owner of a cold, familiar voice hissed next to my ear. "mudblood."

Lucius. That man just wouldn't leave me the hell alone!

I struggled against him, but my air supply was getting short. But thank God, someone came to my rescue.

"Put her down, Lucius."

The bastard turned toward him. "Ah, Draco. Stooping to the point of helping mudbloods now? Just when I thought you could sink no lower."

Draco pursed his lips. "We'll settle our differences here and now, Lucius. Put her down."

By now, he had loosened his grip. Ha! The fool. I yelled, "Stupefy!"

He let go and was slammed into the tall oak behind us. Draco took my hand and whispered, "Run!"

I shook my head. "Draco, no! Come on with me! Let someone else deal with-"

He put his hand to my mouth, shushing me. "I have to do this, Hermione. For me. I'll join you later."

I nodded in defeat and he kissed me soundly on my forehead, and then my mouth.

I knew that Draco was powerful. He had smarts, agility, and quick- thinking. But I don't know how that all would be affected if he was dealing with his father, the one person who made his life miserable from day one.

I looked around for my friends. I saw Ginny, and ran up to her.

"Ginny!" She nodded back at me, her eyes terrified. We fought two deatheaters coming on to us. We killed them.

She turned to me, eyes full of tears. "Hermione, I don't know if I can handle much more of this." Her tears fell.

"Ginny, are you alright?" Something happened. I knew that she wouldn't be so scared, so… something… if she just killed some deatheater. She had been waiting for this ever since Bill's death.

"Back there…" her eyes went to another part of the field. "I think someone got a hold of Ron, but I'm not sure…"

"Shit," I whispered to myself. I turned back to Ginny. "Tell me where."

She pointed timidly to the lake's side. I ran over there. I wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to him.

I was scared. I ran and ran, trying to avoid the numerous dead bodies on the floor next to me. I just hoped that Ron wouldn't become one of them.

I reached that part. I looked and looked and looked.

Where was he?

Then, I saw him down by the lake, one place that was deserted, isolated from all the fighting. Half his body was in the water, getting soaked. I saw that the water touching him became red.

I ran down there, tears already streaking down my face.

I kneeled beside him and brought his upper body up to lean against me. His shirt was soaked with blood, and it covered his face.

"Oh my God," I squeaked. "Ron."

He opened his eyes weakly. "Hermione," he attempted at a smile. "You cry too easily."

I tried to smile for him but to no avail. I couldn't really speak.

"Hey," he wiped a tear from my cheek. "It's okay. It's my time, I guess."

His time? "Ron, you're gonna be okay. I just need to get you to a Healer; just hold on…"

I tried to get him up, but he resisted. "Hermione, no." I stopped at his command.

"Ron?" I laid him back down. I was on the verge of hysteria. "You need to see a Healer! You need to live! You need to help us fight this battle! Why aren't you getting up!"

"Tell Harry I said good luck, okay? And goodbye." He might as well just break my heart, by saying that.

"Why don't you tell him yourself?" I whispered. He shook his head and smiled weakly.

"Hold on to Draco. I know I-" he took a gasping breath. "- I never really gave him a real chance… but he's a great guy- and he loves you. Me and Harry and Ginny… we love you too."

His hand went limp. He was gone.

And he took a little bit of my heart with him.

Crying profusely, I laid him back down. But how could I just leave his body here, like he was just another death? Another war casualty?

He wasn't. He was important to me. He was important to me, his family, Harry, and all his friends. The whole world! Well, my whole world. My heart was aching as I watched his face slowly go paler. My stomach and head was beginning to hurt from my sobbing.

I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Bye," I whispered.

I closed my eyes for a few moments, trying to pull myself together. But I would open my eyes again and see. See what happened. What will happen more.

From behind me, a horribly familiar female voice drawled, "How very touching. The mudblood crying over her little boyfriend."

I turned around and saw through my tears Bellatrix Black.

"You like what I did with him? He screamed like a girl." She laughed.

My blood boiled. So much hatred filled me that I thought I would burst wide open if I didn't do something. I wanted her to suffer as much as all the people she hurt did. I got up and immediately shouted out the only curse I knew that could even possibly satisfy me.

"Crucio!"

I knew it wasn't in my orders. But I wanted this satisfaction. I hated her. I hated her and all her kind so much that it was blinding. It was draining.

When I began running out of steam, the curse stopped. But I took another brief look at my dead friend, remembered her ruthless words, and shouted it again, giving her another dose of her own medicine.

Her screams filled my ears, and I relished in it. I yelled over it, "YOU LIKE THAT? THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE! THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE, BITCH!"

Finally, I finished it off. As much as I wanted to torture her to St. Mungo's, I just gave her the killing curse.

By now, my tears were gone, and I walked over to her dead body. And I spat on it.

I walked back to the battle, but not before making a mental note of where Ron's body was to give him a proper ceremony later on.

How was I going to tell everyone?

Four Hours Later

Death after death after death. That was what today was. That was what the battle was all about.

I could not, for the life of me, find Draco. And my mind was wasting with worry.

It was now midnight. Everyone was lurking about, quietly and carefully. Behind a patch of trees, I heard something.

I crept to the place I heard it, and hid behind an especially large tree.

"I can't live without you," said a voice I recognized to be Ginny's.

Shit. I walked in on her and Blaise again.

"You can. You will move on, and find someone who isn't a dumb ass."

I peeked over the side and saw Ginny shake her dead. "I like dumb asses."

They were holding each other closely, as if they were afraid that if they pulled apart, the war would take them from the other forever. She was dressed in her maroon robes, while he was in his black deatheater robes, mask off.

I sensed their love. It was as great as mine with Draco. But in a way, I think that theirs was purer. Again, for the millionth time, I tried to imagine what I would do if Draco was a deatheater, and was about to die. I think I would die myself.

Blaise breathed into her hair. "Gin…I'm just glad it isn't you."

She stifled a sob, as did I.

I left quietly. I couldn't take much more of that. It was a heartbreaking scene, and I had had enough heartbreak for one day.

I was still wiping some stray tears away when I saw Draco, crawling on the ground; he looked like his legs were hurt and he was spewing blood.

I rushed over to him. "Draco! What happened?"

He looked up at me, and I saw that his eyes were unfocused and scared. And that scared me as well.

He tried to stand up and fell down again.

I got him up and hurriedly led him to the nursing tents. He was definitely in no condition to fight. But I wasn't losing him, too.

He was really starting to scare me. He wasn't using his body strength at all, leaving me to support all of him.

At the tent, I finally started to cry. "Draco…please be okay."

He looked in my direction but not really at me. In a scratchy voice, he whispered back, "I will be."

This gave me some relief, albeit not much. I squeezed his hand, kissed his cheek, and left the tent.

As soon as I did, I heard voices from somewhere in front of me. God, somehow, I am always hearing people's private conversations. Curious, I followed it and found…

"Narcissa, I have already tried to stop the curse, but it was no use. The Dark Lord had cast it years ago. I am sorry."

My eyes- or ears- bulged. Was that sadness and…tears in Lucius Malfoy's voice? The same Lucius Malfoy that reduced his own son to what I brought back to the tent?

"My only consolation is that if the Dark Lord does die, you and I will die together." That must have been his wife.

I did a double take. Something there didn't fit right.

She was going to die? They were both going to die? As far as I knew, Narcissa Malfoy was not a deatheater.

Well, I found out in the next few sentences.

"The Dark Lord didn't read the fine print, I suppose," he said in a bitter tone. "He didn't count on his deatheaters falling in love. And we didn't count on our loved ones dying if he does."

Narcissa sighed. "I suppose the only way is for us to win."

I stumbled backwards, my mind reeling from the information I had just received. Why is it that every time I accidentally walk in on a conversation, I hear something I don't like?

If what I just heard was true, then it wasn't only Blaise that would die if Voldemort did.

Ginny would, too.

I couldn't compute it. All of a sudden, the tables have all turned. At first, Ginny didn't know how she could want to win the war knowing what she did. Now, I had joined her in that feeling.

I wanted to cry, but for some reason, the tears didn't come. Instead, I walked back to the battlefield numbly.

I found that everyone had gathered together, watching. Watching what?

I pushed my way to the front and gasped.

Harry and Voldemort were facing each other and no one else, both breathing hard, but Harry was bloodied up and bruised, whereas Voldemort- that fucker- didn't seem to have a scratch on him.

This was it. The showdown between Harry and Voldemort.

My mind raced to the research I did on Voldemort and his obsession with becoming immortal. I had stumbled upon a spell, a very ancient kind of dark magic, which could actually protect you from the killing curse.

So we formulated a plan that might destroy him. It was a narrow shot; but it was all we had to go on.

Voldemort shot out a spell at Harry, one that I didn't recognize; that panicked me. I had tried to look up as many dark magic spells as I possibly could, and I prepared Harry on what I could. But this one was unfamiliar to me. So we all know how familiar it would be to Harry.

All of a sudden, Harry cried out and began shaking on the ground. Neville's cue was coming up.

He had bravely volunteered to do this part of the final bring- down of Voldemort. A lot of people tried to dissuade him, but he was determined.

He stepped up and jumped in the way of the curse. It broke off of Harry and began working its toll on him.

As suspected, Voldemort was insulted that a boy just went up and disrupted his torturing, so he took extra time to finish him off.

"Avada Kedavra!" I felt more of my heart break as I saw Neville's dead body fall to the snowy ground at Voldemort's feet.

And that was Harry's cue. While Voldemort was distracted, he ran around him, took his sword out of his sheath, and went in for the kill.

Voldemort turned around just as his head got sliced off his neck.

It was gruesome, really. Blood splattered onto the snow, and his body began to disintegrate into nothing. He was finally dead.

All the deatheaters fell to their knees, wailing in despair. They knew that it was only moments before they were met with the same fate. And their lover.

Seconds later, the wailing was replaced by sounds of burning up and dust sweeping into the wind.

From behind me somewhere, I heard someone cry out, "Ginny!"

My heart ached for her. I couldn't turn around to face the sight.

Although this was what we were all waiting for, it was a terrible sight. I wanted to look away, but it was captivating and searing, making it impossible to avert my eyes.

Harry was on his knees, using the sword to support his weight. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and he was covered in blood, slightly melted snow, and dust.

I ran over to him and enveloped him in my arms as the crowd erupted into cheers and deliriously happy sobs.

"It's over," I whispered to him as he cried into my shoulder. "We won."

Next Morning- Eight am

I had been dying to go see how Draco was doing, but Harry would not speak to anyone but myself and Dumbledore. Who could blame him? Sirius, Ron, Ginny…so many people he and I both loved had died.

And for Merlin's sake, he had just chopped off someone's head.

So when I saw his blonde hair- still unwashed, mind you- I was ecstatic. He was on crutches, so I didn't hug him too hard. But I did kiss him numerous times on the lips and all over his face. Basically, I was smothering him.

"We won! We did it!" I could barely contain my joy.

"I know! I heard!" He seemed happy, but there was something a little strange about his expression. "I'm so glad you're okay. When I heard you were out there, and I wasn't…"

He wasn't even looking at me…

"I was scared. I'm just relieved, above all, that you're okay."

I kissed him again, but it was as if he wasn't expecting it. He looked sort of startled when I pulled away.

Something was very, very wrong.

"Draco?" I asked tentatively. "What is up with you?"

He widened his eyes, but they still weren't really looking at me. "What? Oh…um…I…"

He looked sad all of a sudden and looked at the ground. I waved my hand in his face. He didn't move. His pupils didn't even respond.

A horrible, horrible thought came to me. "Draco," my voice said shakily. "Can you…can you even…see me?"

Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes…

He closed his eyes and woefully opened them, his eyes full of tears as well. He shook his head.

"Then you're…" I couldn't finish my sentence. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it.

"Blind," he finished for me.

I clapped my hand to my mouth and shook my head. I stepped into the embrace he offered to me and cried into his chest as his tears fell gracefully into my hair.

And though he couldn't see it, Harry was watching us from the tent, shaking his head.

"Do you still…" he gulped, "…still love me? Want me?"

I looked up sharply and nodded vigorously. It occurred to me that he couldn't see it. So I said aloud, "Yes. More then anything, just like I always will."