Ch 9

"Off with their heads!"

-Lewis Carroll

Hermione's POV

Hermione was not okay. Not by a long shot.

The end had started.

Everything happened so fast. After weeks of planning her, Harry and Ron broke into Gringotts and then the next thing Hermione knew, they were on their way to Hogwarts; Harry was convinced he knew where the diadem of Ravenclaw was.

Hermione could feel her ears ringing. The sound of yelling and crashes penetrated the air. But nothing compared to the piercing screams of death. The sound vibrates underneath her skin. Every little sound drew Hermione's attention and wand. The hair on her arms was raised. Her heart was strumming in a fast beat. Her adrenaline was swimming in her veins.

She, Harry and Ron was amongst the crowds of students in the Great Hall as McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt announced that the students old enough to fight could stay if they wanted, while younger students would be evacuated by Madam Pomfrey and Filch by way of the passage through the Hog's Head Inn. But they soon separated from the masses. Harry ran off, saying something about Ravenclaw. And though she continued to follow, Ron stopped her. He reminded her that they had one Horcrux in their possession they still needed to destroy. In her haste, she completely forgot that they had Hufflepuff's Cup. Robbing Gringott's seemed like a lifetime ago instead of several hours.

As she ran down the corridor and up the Grand staircase, she could barely make out the faces of the students running past her. Or the yells of the portraits that were still hanging on the walls.

For a moment, she stopped to catch her breath and looked out one of the windows. Ron was right beside her, huffing and puffing. She had a view of the Viaduct courtyard. She could see as various suits of armour struggled to fight against two very large giants. Dust was partially obscuring her view as bricks and stone shattered like broken glass. The Death Eaters were holding out on the edge of the Forbidden Forest before Hogwarts protections fell. Then they came in great numbers and infiltrated the grounds. Curses, hexes and jinxes flew in every direction, lighting up the sky in various colours of greens, blues, purples and reds.

The three of them reunited outside of the Room of Requirement. She and Ron each carried a basilisk fang while Harry was panting and covered in soot and sweat. Though Hermione knew that Fiendfyre could destroy a Horcrux, she didn't know how to cast that kind of spell and didn't want to risk destroying everything around her. Goyle didn't have the same reservations, apparently.

It was then that their numbers dwindled as more Death Eaters stormed the castle and with numerous students still trying to evacuate. The Order and the D.A needed more help. Ron went off with Ginny, Fred and Percy to go help.

While she and Harry tried to figure out how to find Nagini, Harry used his connection to look inside Voldemort's mind. He could see that he was in the Shrieking Shack and had ordered Lucius Malfoy to find Severus Snape and bring him to the shack.

Hermione didn't allow herself to worry about the man. She couldn't afford to. But hearing his name sent off alarms in her mind, and as Harry started to move again, her hand reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. He gave her a confused look that quickly turned into protests as she dragged him and pulled him into an empty classroom.

"Harry," she said seriously, trying to draw his attention, but he was not having it. He was too fueled by the adrenaline and knowledge that everything would be over soon.

"Hermione. We don't have time. I will see you later, okay." He turned to leave and was ready to bolt.

"No! Stay here," she shouted, startling him. This was not how she wanted to do this, but there was little time, and he was testing her patience.

.

"Hermione, what are you doing? We have to-"

"I need you to drink this potion." She hastily pulled out the vial of clear liquid from her beat-up rupsack and thrust it into his hand.

His brows rose, and yet the end of his scar was still visible underneath strands of his hair. "What?"

"Drink this!" She exclaimed, pronouncing each syllable.

"Is this some kind of potion that will help us? Like Liquid Luck? If so, you and Ron should take it." If it wasn't for the importance of the situation at hand, she would have laughed at his stubbornness. Instead, she gave him a small smile and marvelled at his selflessness. Even in the middle of a huge battle, he was thinking of his friend's safety over his own.

"Please, Harry, I need you to listen to me. I need you to trust me,' she implored. She stared at his green eyes. The colour is still visibly vibrant despite the dust and grime on his glasses. After looking at her for a moment of contemplating what was going on with her, she could see the moment his thoughts shifted to screw it. The only sound was the pop of the cork being removed, and then he guzzled the potion down. Not even a single drop remained.

"Okay, I will see you later. Be careful!"

She simply stood there and watched as Harry ran out of the door and turned down the corridor until he was nowhere in sight. The words Good Luck dying on her lips. She knew that this had to happen in the end. It had to be Harry, and despite how much she wished she could go with him to protect him. This was his fight, and hers was helping defend Hogwarts.

She closed her eyes and found a weight pressed up against her back. She had subconsciously moved to lean against one of the walls. She took comfort in the solid wall behind her. This was all wrong. He didn't even know if the potion would work. It was never tested. And Merlin, she had no comprehension of the extent of the possible side effects that could occur now that he had drunk it. But at least he didn't drop dead as soon as he consumed it. That should count for something, right?

She suddenly felt heat on her thigh. Radiating from her jean pocket. She shouldn't have been surprised that the galleon was there. She had taken a shine to carry it with her everywhere. But she didn't think she would hear from him until the fight was over. She rolled her thumb over the gold coin. Feeling the contrast between the smooth surface and the rough ridges. The words "Stay Safe" were barely visible in the low light. She thought about sending a message, but he didn't need any distractions wherever he was.

The crashes and screams drew her back to reality. She should be helping instead of having an internal crisis. This was not time to think. It was time to act. What if's could be internalized later. If she survives the night.

She felt her wand vibrating in her hand as her magic strummed it to life. It was time to fight.

Hermione ran down the corridor and made her way down the stairs but quickly realized that two Death Eaters had taken notice of her and began to follow.

Hermione pointed her wand to the stair and yelled "Gilesseo," causing the stairs to turn into a slide.

She didn't have time to think about the sickening crack or the odd angle one of the Death Eater's neck was in after they crashed into transfigured stone.

It was getting harder to make her way throughout the crowd undetected. She wanted to reconvene with someone from the order but was interrupted by more armed men and women. She was outnumbered—three to one.

But then, before she could cast a single spell. They were tackled to the ground by a bunch of desks. McGonagall was leading the charge.

She ran until she ended up meeting up with Dean and Pavarti. Together the three of them fought Avery and Travers.

She had to dodge a nasty-looking curse that barely missed her head. But it made contact with someone behind her though she didn't dare to look. Despite having the numerical advantage, the three of them were slowly being pushed back. But when one of them attempted to cast a slicing charm, Dean was able to get an attack in—knocking one of them out.

"Go Hermione," Parvati shouted, advancing on the lone Death Eater standing.

"We got this," Dean agreed. The two of them had a renewed sense of energy and were striking in fierceness. "Go help the others."

He had a point. And without looking back, she left them.

She finally made her way to the courtyard. And from the looks of things around her, she might have been better off staying inside the castle.

"Avada Kadabra," was shouted by various voices.

Arrows laid broken on the ground from the centars assault.

The ground would occasionally tremble beneath their feet as the giants fought.

Hermione could see several bodies lying carelessly on the ground. She almost tripped over a few.

She saw the sickening sight of Lavender lying broken on the ground. Greyback was on top of her, his mouth was dripping with blood, and he gave her a disturbing smile.

Hermione screamed, "Bombarda."

Casting Protego to protect herself from cast off from the explosion. It exploded as if from a bomb.

Crashes surrounded her as crystal balls fell from the sky, hitting Death Eaters on the head.

Hermione suddenly felt a wave of cold penetrate deep underneath her skin. She felt so tired. Her bones ached, and every move felt as though her blood was thickening. She felt so heavy. She was just so done. Why was she still fighting? What was the point? They couldn't win. It was pointless. They weren't strong enough. She wasn't strong enough.

It felt as if she had closed her eyes and was now consumed by darkness. She just wanted to lay down. Close her eyes and never wake up again.

The silence was deafening.

It wasn't until a bright light blinded her that a comforting warmth overcame her. Hope swelled in her chest as the darkness.

Now seeing the dementors in front of her, she tried to conjure her patronus. But it was useless. She couldn't think of a single happy memory in this war zone. Her thoughts turned to Harry and Ron, and memories of years of friendship flew into her mind. But they all slipped between her fingers. It wasn't until she thought of Severus that the image became clear and solid. But she still couldn't cast the charm. She was still so cold and could only stutter out the word. Only a flicker of white light was produced from her want and not even close to taking its corporal form.

But it didn't matter that she couldn't conjure her protective otter. There were others around her who were able to dive the creature away.

It was well into the night now. And if it weren't for the moon and the lights from the castle, the only way anything would be visible would be from the casting of spells.

Their forces ended up being pushed into the Great Hall. Their numbers had dwindled. But Hermione was hoping that there were others still in the castle. Either too injured to fight or helping the injured. Maybe some of them left during the fight. She wouldn't blame them. She wondered how even she was still going. Luckily there were only about thirty Death Eaters insight.

The hall was hardly recognizable; the tables had been removed, and the walls were in disarray. The windows were shattered, and glass lay on the floor. Some shards were stained red.

Hermione could feel the blood splattered across her face. However, she couldn't tell if it was hers or not. She was exhausted, and her muscles ached from fighting so long and hard. Her hair stuck to her face and neck.

It didn't take her long to be engaged in another fight.

A swarm of house-elfs with knives and kitchen pots began attacking the legs of the Death Eaters.

She could see out of the corner of her eye as Dolohov fell to the ground.

Her attention was suddenly pulled away from her duel. But luckily, so was her opponent. They both looked in the direction of a furious scream, and their eyes were directed towards the flash of glittering silver and red. Neville was standing, holding the sword of Gryffindor in his hands as a decapitated snake lay at his feet. She didn't have time to think about how it had come into his possession. They had lost the sword of Gryffindor. It was used as a trading bargain for a goblin's help.

Nagini, Hermione thought before attacking her opponent. This is it. All that's left is him.

The yells of shock, cheers, and screams broke out as Harry came crashing through what was left of the entrance.

But soon, the voices were stifled, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry stared at each other and began to circle each other. Everyone stopped fighting. Instead, turning to look as the pair circled each other, wrapped up in each other's gaze. The contrast was so prominent. Red eyes met green. Pale, white, decaying skin against the flush of life. Good versus evil. A human against a monster. The Boy Who Lived against He Who Shall Not Be Named.

The entire room held their breath as they waited for who to strike first.

Hermione could feel as beads of sweat rolled down her face. As blood stained her clothes. She was standing five feet away from a Death Eater. Both with their wands drawn and were previously duelling. But none of it mattered. Like everyone else, she was paralyzed. And forced to watch what was happening in the center of the hall.

Then finally, it happened. Voldemort screamed "Avada Kedavra" as Harry simultaneously yelled "Expelliarmus."

Lights of the power of the spells blinded everyone in the Great Hall. Gasps were heard throughout. People are shocked by the immense power happening in front of them. Hermione turned away from the sight partially because she couldn't see past the brightness which was starting to burn her eyes. And because she couldn't bring herself to watch. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Her ear's filling up with white noise. Nothing else matters except for this moment.

Everything she has ever fought for. The years of fear and terror. All of the pain and suffering she has experienced. The countless times her life has been in danger. The tears she shed. This moment would determine if it was worth it. This moment dictated whether or not she would ever smile again. If she would be able to walk outside and take a breath of fresh air, not be bound in chains. If she would be able to hear the laughter of her friends and family. If she would be able to ever be happy again.

All at once, the lights disappeared. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust- for the black spots to clear from her vision. And the sight that was in front of her took her breath away.

Voldemort laid on the ground, his body feeble and shrunken, his snakelike face vacant, and his red slit eyes were already starting to cloud over. Voldemort was dead.

It's over, Hermione thought impassively. Finally, allowing her tiredness to set in as cheers of joy and celebration surrounded her.

It was all over.