Disclaimer: I own nothing in this world except my name, my soul and my ideas. I would certainly bring them to the afterlife.

Author's Note: I was very much inspired by the works of my favorite author that I took up the pen and started to write again. This was the result of that inspiration. I hope you enjoy this first chapter for I most certainly have enjoyed writing it. Please read and review...

A Week in Your Arms

Chapter 1: The End is just the Beginning

My story begins when I thought I had lost everything. It seemed that in those last few days of the war, I thought that I was going to die... And maybe I did. Or at least a part of me did.

It's strange that I do not miss that lost part of me. That I do not long for that missing part of my life. Before my capture, I thought I could never live without it. But all of that changed. It's funny how a single second could change your perspective, how a touch could make you forget yourself, how a kiss could shatter your resolve.

I'm getting ahead of myself...

But how do I begin? Where would I begin? My past is riddled with so many events and places and people that I can scarcely begin to describe it all. It all seems like a blur now; a beautiful but ill-fated blur. I miss the laughter I used to hear within the halls. I miss the games we used to have almost every Saturday as long as the weather held. I miss the times when my friends and I would sneak out and do random acts of foolishness or bravery whichever you look at it. I miss the times when I thought nothing could penetrate the sturdy walls of my beloved schoo that protected me from the dark forces that lurked beyond into the unknown.

But I was wrong. The dark forces had demolished all my courage and all my hopes. It took my youth away and made me into this... cold, suspicious thing. All those times seem so far away, when in reality they couldn't have been but a couple of years past.

The betrayal... It was the goddamn betrayal!

And I have never felt so drained and weak in my entire life. My world crumbled. Everything I believed in, the people I trusted... they seemed to be insignificant to me. All that mattered was that I was betrayed.

My Headmaster died. At the hands of whom he thought was his ally.

And then the war began, slowly at first, as if the two sides had whispered their battle cries instead of shouted them. But then, it grew worse, like a silent disease that left everyone dead whether they were innocent or guilty of such a crusade. The war took my parents in its abhorrent grasp.

I felt that I had to do something to avenge their deaths. Therefore I studied Defense religiously. I learned every curse and knew every countercurse by heart. I had bruises and cuts from training. I came up with strategies. I forgot who I was and where I came from. All that mattered to me was that I was at the front lines of the army. That I had the power to change the direction of the war. That I could win over that madman who started all of this because of his hatred for himself.

Oh, how I looked up to my former headmaster. He was goodness and justice. He was kind and wise. He was everything I wished that I could be and more. He was my earth and my world. I wanted so much to do him good after all he did for me. He trusted in me and in my skills despite my heritage. He taught me how to stand strong with my head high and my integrity never faltering, even in the midst of damning corruption.

He gave second chances. Oh, how he did...

And this was how he was repaid, with the killing curse directed at him as if he were not the greatest wizard that ever lived.

I can hardly think of it without breaking into tears.

It hurt me more than my parents' deaths... After all, if Albus Dumbledore were alive, my parents would have never been killed.

His death served as my drive, my fuel. I would fear nothing and I would plunge headfirst into my death if it meant vengeance for his. I would acknowledge no other ally except for his memory. He was the reason for all this courage.

This foolish courage...!

This blasted Gryffindor spirit! It was because of him that I found myself in this mess...

But, oh, how will I ever repay him for doing such?

-

Night had fallen. Eerie shadows were cast by the dim illumination of a quarter moon on the surroundings. The trees became more menacing. The cold wind blew past, as if it were something solid, and collided with her with such force that she almost lost her footing.

But the night sounds and the trees were the least of Hermione's worries. For the most part, she was in enemy territory. It was too frightening to consider the consequences of being caught so she didn't. Instead, she tried as hard as possible to wish herself out of this place. Of course, she could simply apparate. But then that could be traced and then she and her comrades would be forced out of the hideout. Who knew what the Death Eaters had up their sleeves.

How ironic it was that the Order was forced to go into hiding while the Death Eaters roamed about as you please, seemingly without a care in the world. It was a definite indication that life was unfair.

Hermione looked around warily, trying hard not to realize the fact that she, for all intents and purposes, had been fooled. Duped. Conned. Deceived. Call it whatever synonym it had, it still wouldn't change the fact that she, Hermione Granger – the should have, could have and would have been class valedictorian of Hogwarts – was most profoundly tricked into thinking that anonymous sources were trustworthy.

Damn them to hell.

She groaned silently at her mistake as she searched for an end to the forest. Even she would have to admit it to herself that she couldn't get out of this forest alive. But not now, she thought. She would just have to be more productive in her thinking. For God's sake, she got her and her friends out of their various messes without so much as a headache, surely she could get herself out of this damned forest!

But that was then, she somewhat conceded to herself, when all she would worry about was how she could fit her essay into the required length of parchment without removing all the parts she thought were important. She smiled wistfully. If only things had been different... If only she had the power to change everything, right from the beginning. But she couldn't, even if a Time Turner was to be used. Somehow, the thought of controlling the lives of people did not bode well with her philosophies about life.

A sudden noise alerted her that she was not alone. Thinking quickly, she ran toward the nearest bush and hid behind it, staying still and trying to listen to whatever (or whoever) had made that noise. Her heart was racing and she couldn't help but allow the thoughts of capture and torture to enter her mind. Her stream of consciousness had been broken when she heard a deep male voice somewhere in her periphery. She hoped that the bush would provide her with enough coverage.

"Here, little girl, where have you gone off to?" A man said. His voice was deep, almost melodic in a way. It scared the life out of her. She wasn't aware of how close he was but she didn't dare move an inch. Maybe if she stayed in that position, he would look elsewhere.

Then she remembered that she had her wand. She reached inside her coat and felt the smooth wooden surface of it. Hermione grasped her wand tightly, almost breaking it in half. She had never been more scared in her life. She knew that she must be patient. But the anxiousness and terror were warring with her good sense and patience.

She hated being terrified. She could recall the time when she was no more than five years of age. It was Halloween and her relatives were over at her house for a party. Her older cousin had been teasing her, calling her names and making her cry. In retaliation, she took all of his trick-or-treat candy and stashed them under her bed. She didn't have the time to get out of her room however, because he had come after her. So, she shut off the lights and hid in her closet, trying hard not move. He had called out to her, trying to lure her out in pretty much the same way that she was being lured out right now in the forest. She was so terrified of the consequences that she gave herself up before her cousin could even look inside the closet.

It was highly tempting to do so right now... Especially when his footsteps sounded so close, when she could almost smell his scent, when she could almost see him grabbing her and scaring the hell out of her. In her mind, the past and the present were juxtaposed. In her terrified state, she thought that if she gave up willingly, they would kill her immediately and then she would feel no more.

I'm going to die... She thought, smiling wanly.

And so, with a deep breath, she cried out and faced her assailant. Tears were streaming down her face, she screamed at him to kill her and put an end to the terror she'd been suffering from. Her assailant was quick to silence her with an immobilizing spell and she dropped to the ground, unmoving but conscious. Her wand was then Accio'd by the man and then broken in half.

Hermione could almost see her life breaking into splinters just like her wand.

Then she remembered what happened after she came out from her hiding place. Her cousin had switched on the lights, saw her terrified face and gathered her in his arms, apologizing for giving her such a fright. Afterwards, they had a good laugh and shared the candy until it was time for bed.

As Hermione looked into her attacker's eyes, she knew she would get no apologies. She wouldn't have someone hug her until she could almost feel her bones break. She wouldn't have a good laugh and eat Halloween candy then retire to bed, feeling happy and secure. Tears leaked out from her eyes as she observed the man's features half-hidden by a Death Eater mask. He looked almost as if he were surprised to see her, as if he wasn't expecting to make a capture. But the surprise was gone after a moment and was replaced by malicious glee.

"Miss Granger, I thought I would never get the chance to capture your pretty self." He said, grinning as he glanced at her body. Hermione could only stare as he carried her as if she were a log headed off to be chopped into little pieces to feed to the fire.

It was then that Hermione Granger – who was always thought of as a know-it-all, who was always regarded as a logical thinker, who was always referred to as brave and intelligent – gave up what small fight she had been hiding within her and resigned herself to her fate. She was tired of thinking of ways to escape the enemy, tired of thinking of consequences, tired of being terrified to go to sleep without putting up wards and alarms. But most of all, she was tired of fighting for the Light.

And so, she gave up her courage, her will to live. Surely, she thought, death would be better than trying to fight for your life.