A/N: just so you know, this is Hermione/Draco oneshot. i may use this in an upcoming fic (or a similar version of it), that i hope will continue further than my others :P plz tell me what you think of it! btw, if you know of any fics similar to the extraordinary one 'Harry's Madness', do tell, i've been craving something else like that ever since i read it, don't hesitate to e-mail! thx
Hermione stood, and pulled her magicked long sword out of the chest of a Death Eater. He was blond, like her lover, but Draco was noble, and beautiful: not like this shell of a ruthless, dying man. Hermione gazed about herself, and saw a plain of bodies, and rivers dyed red with flowing blood, and trees spattered with gore. She heard the moans of those in pain, the final breaths of the dying, the rustle of souls leaving bodies. All around her lay friend and foe, fallen in the places they had been struck down. Her eyes spotted a hill with a single tree, and a body, covered in a black cowl, pinned to the bare trunk, by arrows and spears. As she continued to gaze, a strong wind blew past, shifting the cowl so the head was visible; the meager sunlight that filtered through the gray clouds shining off the platinum blond hair of the man pinioned to the tree. Her lover's body was slumped over the spears that held him up, and he looked like he had fallen asleep standing. Shakily, Hermione made her way over to the large mound, and climbed up to the tree, eyes continuing to survey the destruction.
She passed bodies.
Oh so many!
She saw a splash of bright red, that couldn't have been blood. It was the only living color in the sepia of the battlefield. Looking closer, she recognized the body. Ron. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back. Not yet. Her love first. Draco, she loved as her other half. She could mourn for her friends later. Turning back, she walked up to the body on the tree, swaying slightly in the chill wind that blew.
Upon approaching the tree, she paused, and didn't hear the crackle of feet against dry grass, nor the 'tschingg' of metal against metal. What she did feel, though, was cold steel embedding itself into her back, piercing her left lung, and withdrawing. Turning, she saw the figure of Ron, standing triumphant.
"Long live the Dark Lord!" he cried.
Hermione calmly drew the long sword, and just as calmly, plunged it deep into the chest of her friend. A single tear trickled down her grimy cheek, as the shock registered on his face. With a quiet gurgling sound, he collapsed to the ground, and Ronald Weasley died, a traitor.
Hermione felt no pain from her wound and sat at the base of the barren tree, her back against the trunk, and her head tilting to rest on her dead lover's knee. Then red carnations bloomed on her chest, growing and expanding, as her life-blood overflowed her lungs. Her shocked and frayed nerves came to, and bubbles of pain traveled up them, arriving at her brain and bursting into her consciousness. The world was cold, and it was getting colder.
"Or maybe it's just me." Hermione mused
More bubbles of pain rose up, chasing each other up her nerves, and she saw white.
"So this is what it feels like to die."
She exhaled one last time, putting the remainder of her life-force into that breath, and with that, Hermione Granger died.