"No!" the exclamation ripped itself from her mouth painfully. Hermione reached forwards but otherwise did not move. Everyone froze from mid-battle, to witness Harry Potter fall. Again. "Ron!" she cried. "Get Harry!"

Ron was quick, but Ginny was quicker. She literally sprang from her crouching position and caught Harry before he hit the ground. Ron was there a minute later, supporting Harry's other side. Both glared at Voldemort, determined to get their friend away alive. Not one of their expressions showed fear.

Five years fighting Voldemort could do that to some people. Ginny and Ron's faces never showed fear anymore.

Lucius Malfoy's curse smashed into her. Thankfully, it was not the killing one. They'd been fighting for some time now and it would take him some more time to recharge before he could kill her that easily. However, she was temporally paralyzed and, therefore, temporally helpless.

"Miss Granger," he crouched down to look at her, smirking. "We meet again."

Sometimes Hermione's life seemed like a dance routine; she always seemed to be nearly dead or someone close to her nearly dead. Nothing was ever without hardship, and she was only twenty-three years old. Lucius Malfoy always seemed to come to her for battle, or her him. She realized that it was both their way to deal with the guilt they both shared. They blamed each other for their own part in Draco's imprisonment. She hated Lucius Malfoy with a passion and five years of nightly training had prepared her to kill him.

Lucius Malfoy wanted to kill her too. They'd both just never achieved the chance. Until now, of course.

She watched him, not wanting to die but uncertain that, even if she hadn't been paralyzed, she would have fought anyway. This personal war between them, and herself, had just gone on too long. Images flashed through her head - of her and her boys, her and Ginny, her and her Muggle family - and she realized that this death would be too easy. She wouldn't go out like this. She wouldn't let Malfoy win. She couldn't let Malfoy win.

She burst from her paralysis quicker than ever before and threw herself at Lucius. He was startled, and promptly fell to the ground, with her on top of him. His smirk didn't drop. He looked so much like his son at times. Hermione's hands were around his neck and she was strangling him. Where was her wand? She didn't care.

"Hermione!" Luna was near. Good, Hermione's was afraid of what she might do to Lucius if she'd been left to her own devices.

"Luna!" Hermione called out. "Stun him!"

Luna did as she was told. Lucius Malfoy was stunned and promptly kicked into the head by Hermione.

Once her immediate danger was out of the way, she turned back to her other friends and saw that they were in a life threatening predicament. Voldemort was advancing and neither Ron nor Ginny could raise their wands without dropping Harry's dead weight, which could prove lethal in the state that he was in. Dumbledore's words were in her mind, "Harry's life is the most important. He is more important than me or you. He is essential; he can not be killed. We can not let that happen."

Hermione threw herself forward. Luna didn't hesitate in following her lead. They needed to stall Voldemort. Hermione had her own reasons for wanting to save Harry; she loved him. As a friend or something more she wasn't sure... things were so confusing.

Voldemort seemed happy to see her. She was a well known Auror. Although she didn't kill many of his men or put them in jail, she was one of the most prominent healers and she often testified in court. She also was the best friend of Harry Potter and a Muggle-Born. They wanted her dead, and Voldemort seemed to be even more powerful than usual tonight.

She didn't care. "Get Harry out of here!" she yelled at the two Weasleys. Ginny hesitated slightly, Ron did not. Ron understood how things were, the sacrifices that had to be made, and Ginny was only learning. Hermione's eyes were fixed on Voldemort's. She couldn't look away. What her biggest fault was, as an Auror, was the fact that she still held fear. Fear that she couldn't get rid of, no matter how hard she tried. Most, Ron included, had hardened and their emotions were limited. She found she was quite as emotional as ever.

She was scared. Scared of Voldemort. Scared of death. Scared of never seeing her loved ones again. Scared that Harry was too hurt this time, that this time he would not wake up with messy hair and a small smile, reassuring them that he was fine, a little disappointed, a little tired, but quite alright.

Voldemort did not waste time. "Crucio," he hissed and the curse hit her accordingly. She should have been ready, of course, but she never was. It was much too painful for her to think. All she could feel was the curse echoing through her bones. This curse was created to cause the most pain it possibly could, and that it did. It was too intense and she was crying aloud. She had done training on how to deal with pain before but no pain was like this... it just wasn't worth it... she wished she were dead, rather than keep living in this dimension of anguish.

Then it was gone. She lay on the ground, weak. She was weak. She wasn't like Harry. Even at fourteen, he'd been stronger than her. Now she was going to die, and she just hoped that it wasn't in vain, just hoped that Harry was okay. She would have liked to see him again, though, one last time.

"You're just a little girl really, aren't you, Hermione?" Her name was mocking on his tongue. "You are only a Mudblood, no better, no worse. You have tried and tried and tried to act like a real Witch, but you can't. You haven't the power. And now you must die." Following this, was that high cold laughter that she despised so much.

"Hermione has more power than you ever will," Luna said. Luna had changed so much over these last few years. She was still odd, she probably always would be, but she had grown up. She knew the extent at which the war was important and she knew what was reality from fantasy. Her natural lack of fear and human emotion had molded her into one hell of a fighter, and a brilliant Auror. Although it never showed in those wide, innocent silver eyes, She had killed many.

"Another little girl... one who does have the pureblood, yet does not know how to use it." Voldemort deflected the curse Luna had thrown at him lazily and pointed his wand at her. "You are the worst kind of filth. You are a waste, a waste of the pure blood that many crave."

"That you crave, you mean," Luna said dreamily. "Since you are, after all, only a Half Blood."

Now Voldemort's red pitless eyes were narrowed into harsh slits. Hermione's breathing was only now returning to normal. She could feel her body again. She pushed herself up from the ground, and Voldemort's dark eyes turned to her. "Watch, Mudblood," he deflected another of Luna's curses, without even looking at her. "Watch what happens to those who insult the Dark Lord. Watch," he turned back to Luna, "and learn."

Only fifteen minutes later, did Luna's screams finally stop. Hermione knew that Luna was dead. That red heap of tatters could be nothing alive. Voldemort stepped over Hermione, leaving her crying in a pitiful heap on the ground.

Later, when Hermione could pick herself up, she realized that the Battle was over. Lucius Malfoy was gone. Nothing alive was left. The battle scene was a painting of red.

"He's okay, Hermione," Ron told her as soon as she returned to Hogwarts. "Like usual, he miraculously clings on to life. He knows his duty. He'll do it... when he's ready." It hurt her when Ron left then. A few years ago, Ron would have stayed at Harry's bed and waited until he woke up, just to make sure. Now, however, things were different between the two boys. Hermione always thought it was because Ron thought it too painful to watch the agony Harry had to go through every single day of his life. Hermione wasn't sure. All she knew was that Ron had distanced himself from Harry and herself, concentrating much more on his own training and his own duty.

Hermione tried to be there for Harry. Harry, although he was so complex and difficult sometimes, needed her. It was a shame that things weren't as simple as they had been when they were just friends though. Perhaps it was because of the lack of Ron, or because they both needed someone desperately to cling on to, but sometimes Hermione and Harry got together for not-purely-platonic activities. Hermione wasn't sure whether she liked this or not. All she knew was that sometimes she needed to be close to him, close to somebody.

Hogwarts was the only safe place now. Voldemort had taken over everywhere. The world was so dark and dreary now. A lot stayed at Hogwarts. Harry did, whenever he was in Britain. Ginny didn't have the money to buy her own place and the Weasley house held too many memories, painful now after all the deaths. Ron trained at Hogwarts a lot too. Hermione only stayed there rarely. She stayed with her parents mostly, but she was always conscious at the danger she was putting them in and knew she would have to find a better arrangement soon. Her parents desperately wanted her to stay with them. They were always so worried about her. She could do little to ease their worry.

She stayed in Hogwarts that night. She wanted to be there for Harry. Dumbledore stayed by the bed most the night too, but he and Hermione talked little. There had been conflict between them, for a very long time.

When Harry woke up, he was quieter than normal and refused silently to convince them that he was alright, the words Dumbledore and her craved even when they knew the words weren't true. Harry looked very tired and depressed. Without his reassurances, Hermione was less than satisfied. She felt empty somehow. If Harry wasn't as strong as always, what were they all going to do?

She left Harry's side, when it was clear he did not wish to talk to her.

She dragged herself up to her room. It was in the Hufflepuff tower. Funny that, but nobody cared about houses anymore. Many slept wherever they could get a room, yet nobody shared. Everyone was too tired these days to stay up and have a slumber party.

She dressed for bed. There was a balcony in her room - they had offered her one with the best view - and she stared out at the sky. It was so dark now, there was little sign of the stars. She couldn't help but relieve the painful memories of the night. Luna's death was just another scar now. She had tried to defend Hermione, and had been too successful. Hermione was still alive, and Luna was dead. Another friend dead. Hermione missed her old life, she really did. She had had loads of friends before, but now she had nobody but corpses or people that were mere living shadows of their former selves. No body laughed anymore. Nobody discussed Quidditch. Nobody gossiped. Nobody celebrated birthdays. There was nothing. Hermione didn't even realize she was crying, until her face felt so wet she had to wipe it.

She tried not to cry, she really did. But Hermione was not naturally strong, regarding her emotions, and she rarely succeeded. Crying had become a nightly ritual for her.

When would it all end?

She sniffed loudly, and pulled herself together. Re-entering her room, she looked around. Something felt odd. The air felt disturbed somehow. The room was darker than normal, and almost too still.

"Hello?" she offered. On any other occasion, she would have felt foolish. Now, however, she was certain. There was somebody in her room. On her bed lay her Daily Prophet. She hadn't gotten to read it yet but now the headline stood out clearly. "Another Death Eater Breaks Free" and a large picture of Draco Malfoy, seventeen years old, smirking out at her.

Hands reached out and caught her by the sides.

She didn't even have time to scream.

Please review! I honestly write better if I know people are reading and bothering to review! Please, please, please?