PROLOGUE

The rain was falling harder now.

She pulled her hood over her head, over the mass of wet hair protectively. She knew that she should leave, sit somewhere else, but she couldn't move. She had been sitting on this bench in the middle of the square for over an hour. When she came, with the bag of grains in her hand, it had been sunny. She had scattered the grain over the floor, and watched the small white and gray birds come and peck at it. She had watched them take off, spreading they're grateful wings, and then come back, as her hand once more swept open, and the hard grain clattered onto the cobbled floor. Now, it was raining, and the birds were huddled in the trees. But still her hand moved. Still she threw wet, soggy grain on the ground, which she knew no bird would eat.

A couple of people past by, snuggled in mackintoshes and under umbrellas. They cast curious glances at the soaking girl, draped in a large black shawl, her eyes glassy and unfocused, as she threw grain onto the ground. There were no birds; just her sadness.

Hermione hadn't come to this old Muggle square for a long time. She remembered when she was little, and her father used to bring her here to feed the birds. How she had loved seeing their little heads, cocked with interest, and the little white wings flapping.

Now, however, she couldn't find the childish solace she used to get here. Now all she felt were the same doubts that had been torturing her mind. The very same thing.

There was the issue of Harry and Ron. They had left more than five months back, and other than the one letter she had got, right at the beginning, there was no sign of them. She hasn't heard from them in ages. She had no idea where her best friends were, whether they were dead, or alive…anything…

Then there was Mrs. Weasley. She had been growing upset, restless. She missed her son and his best friend. Hermione had heard her sobs at night. She knew the old lady was as wrenched as she was.

And then there was Draco; he had left more than four months back, saying he wanted some time alone. He was as good as orphaned now, and he used to have a hollow look in his eyes. He had left, and Hermione had never got a letter. She didn't know where he was.

Another tear slid down her face.

She was alone.

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Hey guys! This is the sequel to Pawn on the Chessboard, called Whose King Shall Win? It revolves around the Final Battle with Voldemort, the Resistance, formed by the order members, and Hermione and Draco's relationship, which is teetering right on the edge. It's gonna be a long story, and I hope you guys enjoy it!

Please review, you know I love you guys! And Lilly, hope the critic in you enjoys this…