My name is Hermione Jane Granger. I have been called many things, from Mudblood to 'dear'. But none of those names ever mattered. What mattered was Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. And the task we three found ourselves given. People have fallen around us. Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore, and countless others. I am 19 years old, and there is only one thing in my mind now, and that is the death of Lord Voldemort. Or so I had thought.
Once last year, Harry, Ron, and I were in an old house, looking for a man we thought could help us. He wasn't home, but someone else was. Voldemort was there. He seemed to want to toy with us before he tried to kill us. That has always been his mistake. His weakness has never been monologuing or jibes. He wants to toy with people before he kills them. And that is what kept us alive that night.
He had cornered us. He had laughed, saying that we should have been more careful. He had sent the three of us flying into the walls. He'd sent spells at all of us. Mine got to me first, but I dodged it. But Harry and Ron hadn't moved. I only had seconds. I dived at Ron, to make him duck. The only way to insure Harry's ducking was to send a spell at him that knocked him over, but did not knock him out in any way.
Voldemort had been furious. But he was too late. We had already Apparated away. The man who might have been able to help us was reported dead later. No matter. We are past it, and we battle on. But that encounter taught me something. I would protect Harry, one of my two best friends in the world, with my life, but it is Ron who I protect with my heart.