Just one gravestone shows me all my pain. Grey and dull – lifeless – bearing the name of the two people that were responsible for my life, and who knew me better than anyone. Sure, they were Muggles but they did everything in their power to get involved in my Magical Life. Always inquiring about me and I can't remember a day they didn't send me an Owl at Hogwarts, just to make sure I was okay.

Sure, they might have pushed a little. They wanted their little girl to do well. And I did. I know that, at least out of everything, my parents were so, so proud of me.

That thought comforts me slightly, as I stand here heaving heavily, staring at their ordinary names, waiting for something to happen.

The thought that I'm after killing someone is overpowering though, and I can't quite believe I would do something so wicked. I don't know who I am anymore. I have no family, I have no friends and I am a murderer. Everything has changed in such a short amount of time.

I killed Draco Malfoy. I close my eyes and my breath hitches. I killed a seventeen-year-old boy. It had seemed so simple at the time – painful, but logical. Completely justified. I was little more than an animal at the time, acting on instinct and some primal darkness that's always been inside me.

Now I can see the truth. It's so agonisingly clear to me. Dumbledore said Malfoy had been a spy for them. He was there, but I have no evidence that he was in any way involved. There was little he could do. Why should he risk his life for people he barely knew? He is obviously more valuable to the Order alive than dead. If the roles were reversed, why would I go out of my way to save Malfoy's parents, if I could possibly die in the process?

My parents were good people! They didn't deserve to die! No, but did Draco? He saved himself only to have me kill him – the worst way possible. I had no right. Nobody has the right to take lives as they please. Not me. Not Harry. Not even Dumbledore.

"I'm so sorry, Mum and Dad," I whisper. "Please forgive me."

The gravestone stares back at me unwaveringly, and I find no peace there. I blink away any loose tears. The truth is, I don't deserve forgiveness.

What about Draco's mum? What about all his other family, cousins and grandparents and uncles? People that loved him? Merlin, did Malfoy have any siblings? Not in Hogwarts…could there be younger?

My head spins. I close my eyes. The gravestone still stares.

I don't know how long I stand there in the cold and bright, before my parents' resting place, eyes shut tightly, face scrunched up in a futile attempt against the inevitable tears.

In one second, I was standing there in my half-trance, thoughts racing through my mind. The next, rough arms were grabbing me, a sweaty hand over my mouth and a wand pointed at my neck and "Don't move an inch, Mudblood, unless we tell you to" was hissed harshly into my ear.

I don't know why I don't just run. Sure, they would kill me, but did I have anything left to live for? Surely death would be a peace now. But I don't. Not out of fear, but a strange determination to keep living. A strange determination to not give up just yet.

I'm Apparated. Taking in my surroundings, I see only darkness, and black figures against the darkness. A woods, maybe? It has an outside feel to it and its dreadfully cold, but I can't be one hundred percent sure. I look around, and the fear still hasn't kicked in.

"Knock her out before the Dark Lord comes," a voice orders from the darkness, "and I'll send the letter to Dumbledore."

The kick to the face doesn't knock me out so they have to go again. I wait patiently, face stinging – unconsciousness can't be too bad at this stage.

At last, momentary peace takes me.

Oh great, now I am going mad.

Draco Malfoy just walked into my dungeon, and is smirking at me silently. Same azure eyes, same impossibly blonde hair, same tedious smirk…was he a ghost?

"In all fairness, Granger, don't you think it'd take more than you to finish off a Malfoy? I'm a spy against Voldemort, for Heaven's sake…"

"But…Ginny…"

"Was a fumbling mess. My heart beat was weak is all, Granger – an unfortunate effect of being tortured, I'll admit."

"Malfoy…"

"Yes?"

I look at him, and hope he can feel my sincerity. "I…I am so…sorry…"

His face is sombre as he looks at me back. "I know, Granger."

Silence.

And then he does the impossible. "I am sorry too. If there was anything…"

"I know." I do know, that's the weird thing. I know that he is sorry. That he didn't enjoy watching my parents die. I know that we're okay, that we will be okay. I won't try kill him again, nor him me. We're even in both our pain. I know that he's changed, and I know I've changed. It's like I can see him properly for the first time and can se myself in his grey eyes.

"Aren't they wondering where you are?" I ask him now.

"I'm supposed to be "minding" you. Torturing you, I suppose. But I figure we can skip that. There's been enough of that already today." An easy grin – smirk, more like - at me. Such a Slytherin trait – laughing at pain and death. Admirable, really.

"They'll be here soon, you know," he tells me now. "You just have to be strong."

"Okay. I think I can do that." Because through all the pain and misery and insanity, I do have strength. Sometimes invisible, sometimes weak, sometimes fragile but still always there. That's how I know my parents were proud of me. That's how I know they're still proud of me now. I won't give up, I won't just die. I will fight, just like my parents did. Someday I'll get the details off of Draco, but not yet. Someday I will and I'll cry but I'll be proud of them too…

I stand in front of the man they call Voldemort. Not really a man anymore, I suppose. A snake. A monster. A murderer…I hate him. Draco stands behind me, eyes set and emotionless. I try to copy his pose, but the fear is hitting in now. How much more pain can I endure, before I forget my parents' faces?

The thought of forgetting them scares me more than anything else.

Voldemort likes to talk. I wait…I know they'll come. My friends, the Order, Dumbledore. I have full faith in them. They won't let me die. They'll save me, as always. Good always prevails over evil.

It all happens in a blur. They burst in. Dumbledore looks terrifying, glowing with power, eyes cold and twinkling with something dark and threatening. Ron looks so determined, with his wand raised and ready, so grown up. Ginny, beside her brother, smaller and prettier, but in no way less determined or strong. Old classmates, people I don't even give a second thought, all ready to fight and rescue me. Lavender Brown. Neville Longbottom. Luna Lovegood. Michael Corner. McLaggan. Dean Thomas. Seamus Finnegan. That Vane girl. Cho Chang, and her friends with the spots I inflicted on her.

Loads of people, and that's not even including all of the teachers and all of the members of the Order. Hagrid and Grawp, his half brother, charge through the Death Eaters, tossing them away easily and enjoying the sound of the Death Eater's shouts of alarm and fear they are causing just by the mere, massive sight of them. McGonagall's face is bright alive with animation and exhilaration, as if she hasn't ever had so much excitement. She looks like she's been born to fight like this. Lupin is out to avenge Sirius' death, and seems to be doing a good job of it by the look of Bellatrix. Everyone is racing with adrenaline, fighting their hardest…this is it…we're winning…

"Hermione, are you alright?" he roars now. My heart soars…Harry! Harry, looking perfectly healthy and sane. Harry…

"Are you?" I cry back.

"I will be," Harry lifts himself out of the crouch, and then pulls me up, ripping off my binding ropes. "Just give me a few minutes."

"Voldemort went that way," I point. Because we both know what Harry has to do.

Harry slides through the battle, not fighting, conserving himself for the end.

I inhale deeply, and begin my fight. It's with Pansy Parkinson and I fight easily, matching her with little effort. I paralyse her and throw her into Dumbledore's Anti-Aparation field. I don't really care what happens to her, Askaban, probably, but I will not kill her. I'm not a Murderer…thank Merlin!

Draco and Snape have joined our side now, and the Death Eaters are both outnumbered and weak. It's only a matter of time. I watch all us students fight and am so immensely proud. Sixteen, and we are fighting powerful wizards twice our age and winning. We've all grown up before our time.

I needn't have bothered worry about Draco's mother. Draco, himself, pushes her into Dumbledore's trap, and there is no sadness or pity or mercy on his face. She's scratched him across the face and blood is pumping out. Pure Blood, and it looks the exact same as mine. Our eyes meet, he nods, and I nod back. We continue to fight. As always.

Our Battlefield becomes quieter. And then it happens…Harry and Voldemort are duelling. It's brief…Voldemort casts the killing spell and Harry rebound sit, then casts his own. One fluid movement, so quick after the rebounding that many don't hear the words and nobody has time to react…not even the Dark Lord.

He falls as any normal man would fall, and is gone.

Harry looks up at us all. The last couple of Death Eaters are rounded up. I can't quite believe it. Numb. I watch him stumble towards him, and I catch him in my arms as he falls to the ground in exhaustion.

"Are you alright?" I whisper, worried.

"Not only alright, Hermione. I feel happy again."

Ron and Ginny are running towards us, but I want Harry and I to be left alone, just for a minute. It's as if Draco can read my mind, he stands in their way, blocking them effectively, and shaking his head knowingly.

"It'll be okay now, Hermione. From now on. There's so much I have to explain to you, so much we have to get through. But we will. We'll do it together."

We are both too tired to kiss, but somehow know that we will when things were better again. As it is, my head is under his chin, against his chest, and his face was in my hair. So close, I can feel his warmth. I finally feel safe and grounded again. I don't know why but I start crying suddenly. Not from complete sadness, although the pain is far from gone. Some of these tears are from exhaustion and relief and happiness.

He holds me in his arms all the while. Draco still holds off the two eager redheads.

"I don't understand, though. How come you could do it? How come it was so easy in the end?"

He looks over my head at the Battlefield, thinking hard. Finally, biting his lip, his brilliant green eyes look back into mine. "I think it's because…well, I've killed before, haven't I?"

I think about that for a long time. Everything that Harry's done, everything that he's suffered through, all the good and bad things, they've made him the person he is today. They've made him strong enough to kill Voldemort. Everything has made him who he is – Harry Potter.

I had been uncertain about who I was, but now I know. I'm just me, Hermione Granger. There's no way to stereotype me, categorise me. I'm not all together good and not altogether bad. I have skills and characteristics but they don't tell me who I am. It's the things that I've done and all that I'm going to do that tell me who I am. It's the things that have happened to me, simple ordinary things like loving my parents so much and being able to live through my grief, that give me the strength to fulfil my destiny, whatever that may turn out to be.

Harry's face is old and grey and full of tiredness and lines…but he's smiling down at me and, after a moment, I smile back.

Just a little epilogue left and then that's it!

I know it wasn't my best story by far but I still enjoyed it, and I'm glad to finally have it finished. The tense and first perspective was all-new to me, and I had to rely more on feelings than actual writing with words.

Thanks to: kougasgirl05, The Cardboard Moon, ..Aurorablu, rani singala, Hermione-Potter-52036, Dynobunny (Really? I wouldn't agree with you now, but thanks!), Alenor, illyria-light.

Just a note: Draco was supposed to be dead, but I kind of wanted a happy ending for it anyway and so many people presumed he was still alive…if I was going to delve into this story a little more, I would have added a little more on this.

Thanks to everyone who might still be reading, and for the constant support in a story that I have struggled with. Some stories just come naturally, and some are just harder. Support helps so much. I honestly believe I would be miserable if not for this site, it's such a upbringer!