Thanatos
Upon waking Hermione asked a question that had become quite familiar recently.
Where is Harry?
It was the third month of the Horcrux hunt. So far they had found the true locket Horcrux and destroyed it. The enchantment protecting it had knocked Harry out for a solid week. That was when Hermione has noticed a change within her friend. He began sleeping less, eating less, murmuring in his sleep…dreaming more. He hadn't talked about what he saw in the darkness, but Hermione knew it had to be bad.
Harry was always the last to join her and Ron in whatever hidden place they found to sleep. During the night, he woke her more than once when he forgot to cast a silencing charm around himself, or a muffliato to turn his sporadic yells into faint noise in the night, under the stars.
He was the first to wake. Every morning he would already be making breakfast with whatever supplies they had left. He would be gone, only to return an hour or so later with a few supplies, less supplies, and even fewer ideas of where to go next.
The pit of Hermione's stomach twisted in on itself. Something about this morning was different…something was wrong. She didn't know how or why, but she knew something had happened, something bad, something wrong, and something to do with Harry.
She went to Ron and shook his shoulder.
"Ron, wake up!"
Ron's eyes barely opened to slits, his voice groggy and ready to protest his abrupt awakening when he noticed Hermione's worried gaze. Immediately he sat up straight.
"What's wrong?"
"Harry's gone."
Ron gave a small smile and replied, "Harry's always gone when we wake up."
"I don't know," Hermione wrung her hands dreading what she would say next and how it would sound, "I just feel like something is wrong."
"I thought you didn't believe in Divination."
"I'm not trying to pretend I'm seeing the future, Ron, I just feel like something is wrong."
Ron gazed into her eyes discerning her genuine fear and slight aggravation with him at the moment. With a sigh he rose from his uncomfortable mess of sheets sprawled on the ground. He walked to where Harry's pallet had been neatly folded and bent low over the pillow was resting on top. He stayed there crouched for a minute, Hermione's stomach filled with dread with each passing moment as she watched the clearing that served as their path to their hideaway within the woods. A bird sang loudly above her, its song unsettling her more rather than calming her.
"There's a note," Ron's voice filled the air. Toneless, without feeling or care, Ron's voice was not the one Hermione knew so well.
Softly, she padded towards him. Gently, she touched his shoulder. Quietly, she took the note he offered.
Ginny's in trouble. I have to help. I should be back in a couple of days….
I'm sorry. This has to be done.
Harry
Ron cursed quietly under his breath, and even Hermione couldn't disagree this time.
The wind rustled the limbs if the nearby trees, the leaves brushing against one another. But it sounded too loud for the wind. When Hermione turned her head expecting a green sway, all she saw was red.
hr
Blinking away the last dregs of sleep, Hermione noticed the treetops were dark, black, silhouetted against the blue night sky. Black faded to orange, flickering orange casting shadows of limbs across the other trees. Twisted black on black mixing with the blue and orange, and yellow, and blonde.
Blonde?
Hermione's eyes focused on the man knelt beside the fire. Even in the fire's warm glow, Malfoy's face still looked pale.
She tried to stand, but her arms wouldn't budge. Her back wouldn't bend. All she could do was move her eyes. She had been put under a body-bind. She cut her eyes as far as she could to see what Malfoy was doing, crouched by the fire. To try to see where Ron was.
Malfoy's hand went inside his robes and withdrew something. The fire behind him, all she could see was an outline. Until his hand moved slightly down and the full moon was reflected to her within the metal. The metal of a blade…a knife.
Ron, it appeared was awake already as he tried to yell something, but his voice seemed distant and muffled. As if he was trying to yell through cloth. He also seemed to be tied down rather than held by a spell, as he squirmed and struggled on the ground like a worm wiggling away from a hook.
And like a fisherman, Malfoy gave no heed to its victim's struggle. Hermione's eyes bulged as the knife slid into Ron's stomach after Malfoy leaned his weight into the resistance. His yells suppressed by the gag in his mouth.
She closed them tight. Hoping and praying silently that this should all be a dream.
May it all be a dream.
"What's that?" Malfoy asked, "Couldn't quite hear you."
Suddenly, Ron's voice broke through to the night. The anguish laced with his initial groans of pain was enough to shatter Hermione's heart. Was enough…to make her open her eyes.
The sight of the blade sticking out of Ron's belly transfixed her gaze. Malfoy tried to push the knife up, trying to split Ron up his middle, but the knife wouldn't move. Even when he started the slow sawing motion…in out…in out, each thrust causing Ron to moan in pain…the knife didn't move the way he wanted.
The noise from Ron now sounded as if coming strangled through gritted teeth. With a loud curse of submission Malfoy stood quickly to his feet. He was panting at the effort of trying to saw through Ron, Ron panted from the effort of trying to stay alive.
His chest heaved as he tried to talk.
"What was that blood-traitor?"
In between gasps of breath Ron tried to repeat what he said, "Don – don't hurt her – Hermione."
"What will you do if I do? Bleed on me?"
"I'll – I'll fu – I'll kill you."
"You'll have to live first."
Tears pooled in Hermione's left eye, the salt burning her pupil. From the right, the tears fell to the dirt below her.
Ron's head turned slightly to look at her. The left of his face dug into the dirt.
He tried talking, the handle of the knife shaking with each word, "I shou – I should have --"
Hermione wanted to shake her head, tell him that no, words weren't needed right now, but she couldn't do anything but look into his eyes.
"I should have told you. How – how much – Hermione…I love you."
Hermione wanted to tell him, how much she loved him, how much he meant to her, wanted to say so much that she couldn't.
Ron's voice trailed off and then convoluted into a scream. Malfoy had jerked the knife from his belly. Hermione watched as the knife's blade came down as hard as Malfoy could thrust it. The blade plunged down into Ron's right eye.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, but too late. The death of her friend since she was eleven, the boy she used to bicker with, the man she thought she could have a future with…would now forever be etched into her mind.
"Thestrals will never be the same," Malfoy said with a hint of laughter in his voice. Hermione wanted to throw up.
Arms hugged around her dead weight and Malfoy's sickening voice whispered in her ear, "Let's get you somewhere we can have a bit more fun, yeah?"
Her body felt like it was being sucked through a tube, as he side-along Apparated her away.
hr
The room, whether it was dark or light, Hermione didn't know. Her mind had locked onto Ron's last look to her. The room, whether it was noisy or quiet, Hermione didn't know. Her mind could only hear Ron's last words. The room, whether its air was fresh or stale, Hermione didn't know. Her mind only reminded her of the scent she had smelled this morning. The room, whether it was hot or cold, Hermione didn't know. Her mind could only focus on touching Ron only hours ago. Ron…the only thing she wanted to taste right now.
She didn't know if the body-bind had been lifted. Right now, she didn't have the will to move.
The squeal of metal on unused metal pierced the air.
Someone must be coming.
Hermione may have not known who it was, but she knew who it wasn't.
She opened her eyes. Malfoy was leaned against the door, looking her up and down.
"Come on Granger, the least you can do in your situation is have a little fun."
He walked to her and moved her dead weight up from a laying position. He pushed and pulled until she finally didn't sag back to the ground and stayed on her knees.
"You're going to have to learn to accept what's happened Granger. I'll teach you your proper place," Malfoy sneered down to Hermione as he undid his robes. Hermione still numb from watching the butchering of Ron didn't even bother to raise her glassy eyes. A hole had been ripped open inside of her. The love she desperately wanted to have had been taken from her. She didn't know if she could ever be whole again.
She was barely aware of a hand cupping her chin. Her brain could not register why the joints in her jaw hurt. Hermione had no comparison to relate flesh sliding past her lips and onto her tongue. The feeling was alien.
"Good little mudblood," Malfoy gasped out as his fingers intertwined in her bushy hair.
The hole within her was immediately filled. Loss was consumed by fire as the gravity of what was happening to her fully sank in.
Wandless, she cared not. Death may await her for her actions, but she was Ron's. She may have known it too late, but she knew it now. She was Ron's and not even death stopped that simple fact.
Hermione's wrath consumed her every thought, every muscle. Filling her until her teeth clenched.
Malfoy howled.
His flesh was spongy, and Hermione's teeth were not meant to cut straight through. Though she could taste something slightly metallic, she wanted Malfoy to truly suffer. Her eyes cut upwards to see his tear streaked cheeks and she did what first came to mind. She jerked her head violently back and to the side.
Flesh ripped in a thread like pattern. Hermione's mouth was doubled with the metallic taste of blood. Malfoy's scream increased tenfold as his back hit the wall. He slid slowly down both his hands gripping his would in some hope of stopping the blood, stopping the pain.
Hermione spit.
She rose from the ground, adrenaline fueling her rage to further extents. Every beat of her heart throbbed through her body. She leaned down to look Malfoy in the eyes, a slow drip, drip of blood continued to drop from her chin.
Malfoy's face was pale to begin with, but already he was loosing pigment and fading into what looked like a ghost.
"My-my father will have yo-your head fo-for this…" Malfoy said, his voice barely a whisper.
"Maybe so," Hermione replied, her voice a dead calm, "but he will be too late to save you."
And she was right. Rather, she knew she would make herself right. Her hand went to his forehead pushing it back flush against the wall.
Hermione leaned in close to Malfoy's ear and whispered softly, "I hope you burn for the life you've lived."
Draco almost had the chance to laugh before Hermione's other hand made contact full force with his throat. His Adam's apple…muscle…crushed underneath her palm. For the second time, she felt Malfoy's flesh flatten under her.
His breathing became shallow. Each breath whistled and gargled, air trying to pass an obstruction, but not fully making it through. Hermione stayed crouched, her eyes locked onto his. She wanted to watch him fade. Watch his soul leave him. Watch and know his soul would never meet Ron's.
She rose to her feet and walked to the door, for the first time, realizing she was barefoot from this morning. Realizing she still wore pajama bottoms. Realizing…the t-shirt she was wearing…Ron let her borrow it to sleep in. The Chuddley Cannons. The night before, he turned his back to her as she slipped the shirt on. Harry had been out late again, as they had gotten used to. When she told Ron 'OK' he turned around and smiled a smile she only saw in moments like these. He had hugged her and whispered goodnight.
She had been filled with warmth that the sun never provided her.
She flung the metal door open letting it bang noisily off the stone wall of the hallway she now faced. The stones cold under her feet, she walked through the dark corridor. Another door with blue light shone though a small glass opening, she twisted the knob. On the other side of the frame was a different world.
Antique lined shelves. Every wall embellished with perfect emerald paisley print wall paper. Everything in order, everything in place. Under a platinum chandelier Narcissa Malfoy sipped from a silver goblet. She looked up and smiled.
"Did Draco send you to clean?"
Hermione ran. She covered the distance in seconds, leaping through the air and colliding with Narcissa's delicate frame. The chair over turned, Hermione still on top of Draco's mother. Hermione's hand came to her throat and squeezed as hard as she could. Her fingernails pierced her skin, blood pooled at her nails.
"You created him…" Hermione said through gritted teeth, her voice strangled with pure and unrefined hate for the first time in her short life.
Narcissa's hands clutched at her wrist, but she just pressed harder. Narcissa's eyes bulged, but Hermione just tried to push her fingers in more. Finally, the woman's hand fell limp.
Hermione pulled hard. A slippery piece of flesh came free from Malfoy's neck. Hermione dropped it, happy that the woman would never breathe again.
Exhausted, she stood once more. The clatter of metal on floor made Hermione turn to face the noise.
"CISSY!" Bellatrix Lestrange screamed and pulled out her wand pointing it at Hermione.
Hermione, blood caking on her chin, dripping from her fingers, she spread her arms open wide.
"Do it," she said in barely a whisper.
Bellatrix looked at the girl.
"Do it," Hermione said, with more command in her voice.
Bellatrix glanced at her sister, then back to Hermione.
"DO IT!" Hermione yelled at the top of her voice.
"Avada Kedavra!"
She watched the green light fly towards her. She hoped Harry found Ginny. She hoped he'd go on to kill Voldemort. She hoped that every Death Eater would pay for their crimes. As the light hit her, she hoped her soul could see Ron's, on the next great adventure.