The first thing that Hermione felt when they arrived in the already decimated town was a crushing sense of regret. Regret that she couldn't get there earlier, regret over the crying children huddled underneath crumbling rubble, dirt and tears staining their faces. And then, an icy calm began to fill her. This was what she fought against in the Battle of Hogwarts, so no one would ever have to go through this again. So no one would ever have to know the terror and tyranny of war. And yet, here they were, sitting on the precipice of a secret war. Hermione wasn't stupid. She knew what the beginnings of war looked like.

And this was it.

No wonder Harry and Ron were busy, they were fighting this bunch, keeping it out of the papers, keeping people calm and letting them live their lives while they fought to keep people safe. All the little gripes she had voiced and thought about them over the past month shriveled up, burning and turning into ash. All she wished was that they had told her what was going on, so she could help.

Next to her, Loki was gazing at the devastation in front of them, eyes reflecting the constant explosions. Hermione didn't know what to think about his expression. She didn't know if he was excited or angry. There was no time for that, not now. Not here.

"We need to get to the centre of the town," yelled Hermione. "That's where the main fight is. The Aurors will arrive soon. We just need to keep the dark wizards busy until they arrive, so they don't think to attack the children."

Loki nodded, for once agreeing with what Hermione was saying without any silly little quips. "How far away is this town centre?"

"I don't know, I've only been to this street. I know it's somewhere in―"

Hermione was cut off by a loud, "Bombarda!" behind her. She whipped around and only just erected a shield in time to stop half a building from falling on them and crushing them. The rubble crashed down onto the small, domed shield around them. Dust clouds flew through the air. They were completely surrounded by rubble. If Hermione let the shield go, they would be crushed. She could already feel the strain on her magic as she struggled to hold the shield up. It was beginning to crack and splinter. She could hear the muffled jeering and laughter of the enemy through the shield. If someone didn't do something soon, they would be crushed.

"Loki! Move the rubble." Hermione bit the words out, gritting her teeth with the strain of keeping the shield up. "DO IT!" She screamed out, trying to keep it up. Loki swished his hands to the right. A green light enveloped the rubble and it shot to the rights, colliding with the building with a great boom.

The difference was immediate. Hermione felt like a great weight had been taken off her shoulders. She took the shield down and stood, slightly unstable on her feet. There was no time for that, though. The person who had cast the spell was still standing behind them. No, there wasn't just the caster. There were three of them, two wizards and one witch. They were swathed in dark robes, robes made especially for combat. Their faces were dark, though from what she could make out, there were glimpses of silver coming through. It didn't cover their entire faces, though. The group was so similar to the Death Eaters that Hermione repressed a shiver.

"What do you want?" cried Hermione, wand outstretched. She was ready for a duel. Loki was as well, hands up in a defensive stance. She would have to thank him for moving the rubble later.

The man, who was obviously in charge of the small group, sauntered forward. "And if it isn't the great Hermione Granger?" he mocked. "So honoured that our fight garnered such attention. We have all of the Golden Trio here. Isn't that wonderful?" The other two lackeys sniggered.

"No, it isn't," hissed Hermione. "Go back to where you came from."

"No can do, I'm afraid." It was then that Hermione realised something. The man in front of her, he was young. Impossibly young. He sounded like he was just out of Hogwarts. He couldn't be older than nineteen. What could have happened over the thirteen years since the Battle of Hogwarts to motivate people to join the Dark Side?

A solitary tear slid down her cheek.

Hermione heard another group of people approaching from behind her. Loki straightened, heading towards them with a slow, predatory walk, hands outstretched a glowing green. Hermione turned back to the three in front of her. She would have to deal with them on her own. She steeled herself and glared at them.

Raising her wand, Hermione yelled, "Lumos Maxima!" A bright ball of light left her wand and collided with the face of the woman on the left. She fell to the ground as the light left her unable to see, clawing at her eyes. There was no time to focus on her, though. There were still two people left to take down, and she would be back up in a minute. Just to be sure, Hermione shot a, "Stupefy!" at the woman. These people had no experience duelling. None whatsoever.

"Avada Kedavra!" The green curse flew towards her. Hermione deftly dodged it and started getting back into the swing of duelling for her life. For every offensive spell they sent her way, she erected a shield to bounce their spells back at them, like a mirror. She used a large repertoire of spells, while they kept to a maximum of five.

And with her hair flying, eyes gleaming and wand blazing, Hermione didn't hear the curse coming from behind her until it was too late.

"CRUCIO!"

Loki easily disabled the three wizards that rushed towards him with a flick of his finger. They went spiralling through the air, landing heavily on the pile of debris he shifted earlier. He would have turned around to air Hermione, except hordes of people in dark robes kept rushing towards him, wands out, deadly curses lacing their lips. Soon, there were so many that even he was struggling. He was going to have to step up the game.

Loki erected a giant shield, tinged green. A second before he did, a woman slipped past, with a yell of 'crucio,' whatever that was. He easily dodged the curse and kept his giant shield up. Hermione could take care of the witch, she was more than capable. He had this giant crowd to deal with.

Then, from behind him, he heard a blood curdling scream. Loki whipped around and found Hermione writhing on the debris covered ground, screaming in excruciating pain. The witch from before was holding the curse, a look of sadistic glee plastered over her face. Loki rushed forward and full on tackled her to the ground, before picking her up by her throat. He was relieved to hear that Hermione wasn't screaming anymore. He knew that the other two she had been fighting were approaching her trembling form. So, while holding the woman up by her throat, he sent a shockwave of energy that vaporized them.

They were nothing more than dust.

He turned his head back to the woman, who was now pitifully clawing at his hands. "Tell me," he growled. "TELL ME!"

"Gibbons," she rasped, legs flailing. "Let me go!" Loki sneered at her, before ramming her against a wall. She spat at him.

"You think that after hurting my best friend like you just did, I will just let you go?" Loki snarled. "You think that after torturing her like that, I will let you run on your merry way? Give me one good reason why I should." Her face was turning blue now. She was gasping for air that wasn't there, taking deep, desperate gulps.

"You're no better than I am," she said, satisfaction colouring her failing voice. "If you're on her side, you won't kill me. You never do―ACK!" Loki was now gripping her neck impossibly tight.

"Wrong," he hissed. "I am far better than you will ever be. And I'm not afraid to kill you." He put his face right up in hers, making sure that the last thing she would ever see was his infuriated face, his eyes that were almost glowing with power. "So let go."

A hideous snap echoed through the alley as Gibbons fell to the ground, utterly lifeless. She was nothing more than a twisted ragdoll now. He turned to the wizards still attacking the shield, though the numbers were thinning now, after watching his ruthless display. Loki knew now that they were all operating under the assumption that the Light side was too kind to kill them. They thought they would just be thrown into Azkaban without a second thought, where they could just break out again.

Now they knew that wasn't the truth.

"You're children, all of you!" Loki yelled, pointing at them. "Cowards who hide behind masks, thinking that the other side is too good to sink to your level." They all took a step back as his hands began glowing. He shook his sleeves and his trusty fighting knives descended into his hands. "Well, I'm already below your level." His voice was quiet now, barely a whisper. Yet there was silence, a heavy pressing silence, smothering everyone except him like a blanket. "So, unless you want to die today, I recommend you leave." He took a threatening step towards them. "NOW!"

Immediately, they all fled. All traces of false bravado were gone when they realised that there was actual danger of death to be found on this particular street. Loki sneered at their retreating backs. He knew their type. Confident until someone showed them the truth of battle, that they could very easily die. Then they scurried away like the ants they were. They were nothing more than insects under Loki's boot.

He turned around and rushed to Hermione's side. She was still whimpering on the ground, muttering nonsensical things about wanting it to be over. Loki felt anger swirl deep in his gut. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. They were supposed to win, not be brutally tortured.

Hermione knew she needed to open her eyes. She couldn't just lay down in the middle of a battlefield and recover from the aftereffects to the Cruciatus Curse. She hadn't been under it since Bellatrix LeStrange tortured her at Malfoy Manor. Never had she expected to be subjected to the evil curse age.

The pain from it was indescribable, worse than a thousand burning blisters popping simultaneously, worse than a hundred white-hot brands being dug into her skin. At least now it was over, though tremors still rippled through her body. She could hear muffled voices and a very familiar one screaming at someone to tell him something. There was a ringing in her ears, though, a tinny, piercing sound. And she could see the little bit of light from the tragic evening through her eyelids. It was already painful, so she couldn't imagine what it would be like when she opened them.

Crunching footsteps neared her and Hermione curled away, until she heard the comforting voice of Loki near her ears. He was only mumbling about how this wasn't supposed to happen, about how he was going to go and join the battle for real and not hold back. Gritting her teeth, Hermione opened her eyes. The brightness made her moan in pain as spots danced before her vision. A dark blob above her head slowly came into focus. Squinting, Hermione realised that it was Loki.

"Well, that's certainly one way to start a battle," she groaned, trying to get up. Her limbs were aching like mad. Loki gently held her shoulders and guided her to her feet. He chuckled bitterly at her quip.

"And it shouldn't be, you know that." Hermione grimaced, gripping her wand tight. She looked around.

"Where did they all go?" she asked. "You were fighting far more than me. How could they all just disappear?"

"I...got rid of them."

"How?" The question was simple but deadly. Loki knew that Hermione didn't like killing people, but he wasn't going to lie to her and say that they ran away. Most of them did, but the four he killed, she was going to know about it. He hesitated for a second, wondering what her reaction would be. Would she treat him with absolute disgust and revulsion, like some of the citizens of Asgard did, even when he tried to prove himself to them? Would she develop a quiet hatred that festered in her and the exploded outwards one day? Or would she be impartial, not really minding, not really approving? He was definitely hoping for the last one.

"Most of them ran away. The three you were fighting and the one that cursed you, I killed them." Hermione lowered her head, gazing at the ground, before raising it to look into Loki's eyes.

"I understand why you did it." Loki's face didn't betray his complete and utter astonishment.

"Good. No one can hurt you and get away with it." Hermione's eyes widened fractionally. That was certainly not what she was expecting to hear. She accepted Loki's decision. She wouldn't have done it herself, but in situations like this, sometimes things like that needed to be done. But to hear Loki say that with such conviction in his voice was a shock to the system. She knew they were close as friends, but that close? She never would have known if it weren't for Loki's words.

"Thank you," she whispered. Loki nodded, offering his arm.

"I know you're hurt, but we need to continue. We can't just stay here. They will be back and we need to take this opportunity to get to the centre of town."

"You're right." Hermione staggered forward, walking past the offer of leaning on Loki's arm. She didn't need it. She knew that if she really needed it, she would take it. The major aftereffects of the Cruciatus would set in later, hours later. They should be away from the battle by then, so she would worry about that then.

She broke into a jog, grimacing as another tremor ran through her body, tap-dancing on her bones. No, she couldn't think about that now.

"I think the main fight is up there," Loki said, gesturing to a large square where beams of light were being thrown around left and right. "I need to tell you, before we get in there. These people think that you're going to do nothing more than put them in Azkaban; they're operating under the assumption that no matter what they do, the worst place they can go to is a prison guarded by goblins. As well as that, they think that you won't hurt them. They're cowards, Hermione. Please, don't let their cowardice hurt you worse than it already has."

She stopped and turned to Loki. "I won't, you know that. These people are young, barely out of Hogwarts." She furiously wiped at the tears once again pooling in the corners of her eyes. "Don't let their stupidity cloud your judgement, either, Loki. Remember that these people are barely more than children."

"They tortured you!"

"I've been through worse," said Hermione. There was a finality in her voice. "I don't forgive them for what they've done, I never can. But remember their age, Loki. Please."

"You're so strange, you know that?" said Loki fondly. "You with your endless supply of mercy. I don't know where it comes from. How do you do it?" An explosion sounded from behind them, reducing a building to nothing more than dust.

"Now is not the time, Loki," Hermione said. "We'll discuss this later. For now, we need to find Harry and Ron. The Aurors will be here soon, I know it."

"They better be," Loki growled.

Together, they jogged towards the town centre. She immediately saw Harry and Ron, working tandem. Two parts of an impossible team, a symbiotic relationship where they almost knew what the other was thinking. Though their faces were stained with grime, blood ran in rivulets down their arms and faces from multitudes of cuts and gashes, their eyes still blazed with determination. There was no stopping them, none at all.

A wave of green magic rushed over the ground. It swept under the enemy's feet and in an instant they were all groaning on their backs. The second they saw him coming, they scrambled to their feet and took a wary step back, though they still kept their wands firmly trained on his lithe form. Words must have spread. Rather than engaging them, Loki erected another humongous shield, a giant dome encapsulating the four of them. It would keep the enemy at bay for the time being, hopefully until the Aurors arrived. He wanted to get to them, oh how he did. Loki could feel himself decimating them.

But Hermione's words echoed through his head.

So, he took an approach he'd never used before; the merciful one. If he could win without hurting them, he would. He realised that mundane, everyday spells would come in handy here, such as Hermione using a light spell to temporarily blind them. He made a mental note of using that in future battles. It was a good strategy. Surprise was a good strategy. Hitting the enemy with spells that weren't expected would force them to react in unorthodox ways. From what Loki had seen of their fighting, they were limited to a select few spells. This would give them a slight upper hand if they ever needed it. As skilled as Loki was, there were so many wizards on the other side of the shield that he wouldn't be able to hold them off for long.

He returned to where Hermione was catching up with Harry and Ron, who were gazing in awe at the green dome around them.

"It's good to see you too, Hermione, but why are you here?" asked Harry. "I thought you were working." Hermione scowled at him.

"I received your Patronus at the Burrow. The least I could do is help out." She crossed her arms, in an effort to look cross. It also doubled as a way to lock her arms, effectively stopping the trembling. The last thing she needed was Ron and Harry going all protective on her. They had a tendency to do that, what with the tragedy that happened when she was twenty-five. She blinked furiously. She didn't need to think of that, not now.

"Well," said Ron, running his hands through his shoulder length hair, "we need all the help we can get right now. Who's this bloke?" He roughly gestured at Loki, who was now examining the strength of his shield.

"Oh, that's Loki."

"Since when have you known a Loki?" asked an incredulous Harry.

"We met a few months ago, in a library. Then he moved in with me." Ron shot up.

"Are you two a thing?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows. Hermione turned to glance at Loki. No. They weren't. He was one of her three best friends. Just the thought of being in a relationship with him made her shrivel a little bit.

"No. We're just friends."

"Well, your just friend has helped us a lot, by putting up that shield thing," said Harry. "I don't know how he did it. I only care that he did. We were almost overwhelmed. Molly did pass on the information to the Ministry, right?"

"I left before she did, but I know that she will have. Trust me on that."

"I can't believe you'd doubt Mum, Harry," said Ron.

"Just checking," Harry mumbled.

"Now is not the time to talk about this," interjected Loki, sauntering over. "Right now, we need to focus on beating those cowards out there." He threw a venomous glare over his shoulder. Thankfully, he didn't mention the torture Hermione endured. For that, she would be forever grateful. "I have a large arsenal of spells on me, including my daggers," they slipped down into his hands, "but I won't be enough on my own."

"Of course you won't, mate. What made you think you would be enough on your own in the first place?"

"I've fought a lot of battles. More than you could ever know." Hermione sighed as Loki's arrogant side began to show again. For a few minutes, he was gentle and caring. Then, he returned back to his usual personality. It wasn't that she didn't like it; quite the contrary. She found his charming arrogance intriguing. It was just exhausting at times.

"Loki, stop," she said softly. He sent a withering glare at her, as if to say, 'How dare you tell me what to do?' Of course, that was most likely what he was saying.

"Why should I," he challenged. He smirked in that infuriating way.

"Because we're in the middle of a battle," growled Hermione. "Now it not the time to brag about your past achievements, whether they happened or not. Now, we need to focus on holding off those despicable people until the Aurors arrive and take them in. So don't you dare make this about yourself. Understand?"

"Of course," Loki replied coolly. There was that fighting spirit, finally reemerging. " Now, I need to go and see how long this shield is going to last."

"I'll come with you." She turned to Harry and Ron. "You two need to recuperate. Heal yourselves. I'm not going to let you run around with those cuts all over you. Take this time that Loki has given you." They nodded, mock saluting. Hermione shook her head. How they managed to be so positive in such a dire situation, she would never know. If she had to hazard a guess, the positivity and goofiness both of them gained after the war may have been the only way to get through the dark times all three of them faced. And they kept it. Hermione felt quite sorry for Ginny. She was married to a man who was, somehow, even goofier than Sirius Black.

It was strange. Inside the bubble, everything was silent. It was like ice. It muffled the sound of the screaming hordes until they were nothing more than a dull thrum. Hermione didn't know whether she preferred the silence or the screaming. She wasn't about to complain now.

They reached the edge of their safe area. The crowd on the other side snarled at them, almost feral. Hermione ignored them, as Loki cautiously ran his hand over the shield. "We have around twenty minutes before it falls. It's draining my magic quite significantly. When it falls, I will only be able to perform basic spells until my magic returns in full force. We will need to rely unpredictable mundane spells." He seemed appalled at the thought.

"Like the light spell I used earlier," murmured Hermione. "Can I?" She gestured to the shield. Loki shrugged, a foreign action for him, though he found himself doing it more often the more time he spent with Hermione.

"Feel free to. It will tingle a little, though. All normal side effects." Hermione tentatively reached forwards, hand still slightly shaking. She grimaced, then shook the thought out of her head. The second her hand touched the shield, a strange sensation rocketed through her. All of her hairs stood ramrod straight. It was like a slight charge of electricity was covering her body. She shivered as it swept over her body.

Then, a sense of exhaustion engulfed her. It didn't belong to her. She could feel her magic being steadily siphoned out of her body, while hers stayed inside her, swirling around. It was a sense of heightened awareness that was utterly foreign to her. And with it came a sense of desolation, of loneliness and bitterness and an unfathomably intense yearning for acceptance. She gasped as the feelings grew stronger.

Finally, she tore her fingers away from the shield. It sparked slightly, hissing and spitting. The foreign feelings were immediately washed away. The relief she felt was unparalleled. She clasped her hands together and decided not to touch the shield again, not if those strange feelings were the result.

Loki was standing completely still, hand glued to the shield. Suddenly, it began pulsing, golden lines stretching outwards from his hand. With a hiss, he recoiled, clasping his hands close to his chest.

"There is something wrong with that shield," he said.

"You felt it too, then?" Hermione asked, still shook up over the strange emotions.

"It felt like my magic was there, in my body. In reality, it is being torn away." He frowned, running his hands through his unruly hair. "This is not a usual occurrence. In fact, it has never happened before."

"I felt the opposite," Hermione offered. "Like my magic was being drained incredibly fast. There was also loss and a crushing desire to be accepted. It's almost like…" She trailed off, mind ticking faster than a clock on steroids. Loki had been touching the shield at the same time she was. Perhaps the shield let them feel each other's emotions?

Before she could think any further, the shrill cry of a child reached her ears. Her eyes snapped up and desperately surveyed the area, finding the location of the cry. An impossibly small girl was huddled into a corner with three dark figures approaching her like she was prey. Without thinking, she teleported over to the small girl, crouching protectively over her. Hermione cast a small shield of her own, a temporary reprieve.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I'm here to help you now," she said soothingly. She ran a hand over the girl's cheek, gently cleaning away the tear marks. "What's your name?" The girl turned terrified brown eyes on Hermione, thick streams of tears still spilling out of them.

"N-nicky Sinclair." Her voice faltered. The three figures were pounding on the tiny shield, screaming profanities that made even Hermione gasp. The longer she spent around them, the less sympathy she felt for them. The fact that they would hurt a little girl made her sick. Really, they were no better than the Death Eaters.

"Well, Nicky, I'm Hermione Granger. I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" She reached down and engulfed the shaking child into her arms, rubbing light circles on her back. Her clothes were torn and her kinky, black hair was full of leaves and debris. "Those bad men won't be able to hurt you anymore, okay? Trust me."

"Do you know where my mum is?" Nicky whispered.

"I don't, sorry. I can help you find her, would you like that?" Nicky jerkily nodded, burrowing into Hermione's shoulders. Hermione frowned, though didn't let the poor little girl see. Nicky was seven at the most, tiny for her age. Hermione always wanted children, had been so close to having one of her own. But, some things were not to be. Hermione knew that one day she would have children, even if she needed to adopt. Having Nicky clinging onto her like she was a lifeline reminded her how fragile little girls and boys were. She swore that Nicky would find her way back to her parents.

To get out of the shield, she would have to teleport the two of them to a safe place, at the other end of the ruined street. Hermione breathed deeply. She wasn't sure how Nicky would react to it, but it had to be done. More and more people were surrounding their tiny bubble, shooting multitudes of spells onto it. She could hear it cracking under the pressure. Soon, if they didn't move, both of them would be dead.

The Aurors better show their faces soon, otherwise they would have her to deal with.

"Nicky, I'm going to get you out of here, but to do that, I'm going to have to do something that is going to feel a little strange. It won't hurt you. Is that alright?" Her voice was still soft. Nicky looked up at Hermione.

"Is it something magical?" Hermione smiled fondly. The girl was smart for her age.

"Yes it is. I'm one of the good guys though, so you can trust me. Are you ready?" Once again, Nicky nodded slightly, burrowing her head into Hermione's shoulder, clinging on, hands locked tight behind her neck. Closing her eyes, Hermione pictured the other end of the street inside her head. A slight breeze passed over them.

Eyes open, Hermione quickly ducked into an alley, out of sight. There was no one down here, they were all busy trying to get past Loki's shield There was only ten minutes left on that, though, so she would have to move fast, think of a way to fend them off while finding Nicky's parents. It would be hard, she knew that much. Almost impossible.

"Who's there?" A raspy, female voice sounded from the end of the alley. Hermione whipped around, though slowed her movements when Nicky whimpered into her shoulder. "I'll have you know, I'm armed." A figure swathed in shadows advanced towards them.

"I'm safe. I'm not with them," Hermione said quickly. "Who are you?"

"How should I know you're not with them?" The woman came into the little light they had. Her dark skin was riddle with cuts and bruises, brown eyes wide with fear and determination. Hermione immediately recognised that the woman had similar features to Nicky. They had the same nose and cheekbones. This woman must be her mother.

"I swear, I'm not," insisted Hermione. "Are you Nicky's mother?" The second she said that, the woman finally seemed to see the traumatised child clutching onto Hermione. She let out a strangled sob and rushed forward, prying Nicky off her Hermione and holding her tight in her arms. Nicky was letting out relieved cries of, 'Mummy, Mummy,' and the woman was gazing at Hermione with thankfulness all over her face.

"Thank you, thank you so much. You found my baby. You kept her alive." Tears were streaming down her scrunched up face and her lips were trembling. "What's your name? Please tell me. I need to know the name of my daughter's rescuer. I'm Wendy."

"Hermione," she whispered. The woman was so thankful, so full of gratitude that it reminded her of who she fought to protect. People like Nicky and Wendy, with their normal little muggle lives.

"Hermione. I can't thank you enough." Wendy glanced around, before retreating to the back of the alley, inside an alcove just big enough for three people. Gently, she placed Nicky down on the rough ground, before huddling in herself. Hermione followed them down the alley, which really wasn't a safe place for them to be. She contemplated taking them behind the shield. For seven minutes, they would be safe, until it fell and the hordes descended. Ultimately, Hermione decided that they would be safer here, hiding away.

"There is one more thing I can do for you," Hermione said, crouching down. "I can cast a notice-me-not charm on you, so if you are found, their eyes will go straight over you. Can I do that?"

Wendy's eyebrows furrowed, before nodding. "I may not be familiar with this magic, but I know that if you can help us, I will accept." Hermione nodded and waved her wand over the two of them. She could still see the, as she was the caster, though their image shimmered slightly. She turned to leave, to return to Harry, Ron and Loki, before Wendy spoke again.

"I just want to say thank you. I wish that there were more people like you in this world. And those bastards out there will find their downfall."

"Damn right they will," said Hermione, nodding firmly at Wendy and waving goodbye to a now slightly more happy Nicky, who shyly waved back. She walked down the alley, feeling a sense of fulfillment that she hasn't felt in a long time. At the end of the alley, she just stood, a strong silhouette staring out across the masses. At the other end of the street, the massive shield was beginning to crack. In a minute, it would be gone. There was nothing that she could do to prolong their advantage. Unless…

Her thoughts wandered back to when Loki was teaching her his version of the light spell. She remembered the triumph of seeing the small, warm ball of light materialise in her hands, a bright white in colour. She also remembered Loki's words of caution: "These spells can be used to a much larger degree if it is absolutely necessary. To do that, you must pull you magic out of your core and pour everything you have into it. For a few minutes afterwards, there will be slivers of your magic left, enough for the smallest of spells. The downside of doing this is that for several hours afterwards your magic will be drained. You will be unable to use it properly for weeks and the total recovery period is months. I highly advise you against using the strategy, though I doubt that you will be able to. There is a slight possibility, though it is very small."

That small possibility was enough.

Hermione created a small ball of light in her hands, tossing it from side to side. She knew that what she was about to do would hurt her. There was no question. But, it would give them an extra few minutes while the enemy regained their sight. It was the best option. Unfortunately, Loki, Harry and Ron would also lose their sight. Fortunately, as the caster of the spell, Hermione would be able to run over and reverse the effects of it with what little magic she had left.

She would have to time it for when the shield fell. Doing it at the same time would give them a few extra seconds in addition to the minutes that would already be tacked on. Hopefully, during that time, the Aurors would arrive and arrest the flailing idiots trying to regain their sight. She didn't know where they were. Things better be going alright on the other end.

Preparing herself, Hermione began the spell, slowly drawing her magic out so that light started shimmering around her body. Instantly, she heated up, the slight warmth of the small ball of light multiplying. She bit her lip to stop her screams from echoing around the town. Soon, enough energy was built up, enough to surround a large enough area, bathe it in stark white light.

Grimacing with the pain, Hermione began sprinting towards the horde, now very noticable. The shield was breaking now, only tiny chunks remaining.

"Hey, over here!" she shouted. Half the crowd turned around, eyes through the holes in their masks trained on her. Their wands raised. She heard a great crash as the shield failed, said a few reassuring words to herself, then let the light go.

Loki cursed Hermione and her childish impulses. He was trying his hardest to keep the shield up. It was failing, though. Slowly, bits of it were falling away, great cracks carving their way through it. It was a matter of seconds before it fell. Behind him, Harry and Ron were preparing for the fight of their lives, hugging each other, clearly a ritual that they did before battle in case they lost each other.

It was then that he saw a glowing figure sprinting towards the crowd. His eyes widened and before he could realise what was happening, the shield fell and a painfully bright light exploded outwards.

Hermione couldn't stop from screaming. She felt her magic being ripped from her body as the light exploded outwards. She could see through it, see every single person falling to the ground and clutching their heads, clawing at their eyes, screaming that they couldn't see, that it was too bright.

Now was the time. She continued sprinting towards her three friends, deftly dodging dangerous curses and hexes, left and right. They were being shot off randomly, in every direction. No one who was casting them could see anything.

While she was running, Hermione drew in the light that was clinging to her. It wouldn't do to blind the Harry, Ron and Loki. She skidded to a halt when she reached them. Loki was standing still, muttering curses about her in a language she didn't understand. Using the last of her magic, Hermione reversed the spell on all three of them.

A relieved gasp reached her ears, which were beginning to ring. Harry and Ron stood, running towards her, hugging her close. Hermione barely registered it, as he knees buckled out from under her. Her sight was bleary, the words of her friends muffled. Just before she passed out, Hermione heard a large number of whip-like cracks; the Aurors were here. Ron left, running towards them. She slowly followed his running, barely able to keep her eyes open. Two pairs of strong hands were supporting her.

As she watched Ron, a sickly yellow curse rocketed towards him. She tried to call out, to warn him, but too late.

The last thing she heard before the darkness claimed her were Ron's agonised screams.

Well, this is bit of a long one. It turned out far longer than I expected. The first draft of this was almost twenty-thousand words and a total drag to read. I was able to carve it down to this, though, which I am actually very proud of. I know it may seem disjointed in parts, but this is the best of four versions. I'm also not very good at writing action scenes, so to produce this is quite a victory. Not bad for being fifteen and having four days, eh?

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I predict that this story is going to be going on for quite a while longer than expected. Yay.

Thank you for all the reviews, follows and favourites. I love all of you.

Edit: 22/11/2018: I wrote this chapter to the 10 hour loop version of Courtyard Apocolypse, from Deathly Hallows Part 2.

Sincerely
Mariadoria