OMG here I am again, finally! I do apologize for that long wait. (My housing agency is bullshit and didn't give a f** that we didn't have any wifi for more than 2 weeks. xD It was hell) But now I'm all yours again, so please do enjoy!

Thanks so much for all the new readers, followers and awesome reviews! xxx

PS: Please note, from here on the story will be Mature - Explicit and we ask you to not read it if you're under 18! For everyone else; Don't like, don't read.

As Explicit scenes aren't allowed in FF Net, I have to warn you that all the "graphic depiction of violence + minor character death" Scenes are cut out. As usual you can let me know if you want to read the full chapter.

Again: Enjoy!


Fight for Life and Death

If I had known what a crucial turn my life would take now, what boundaries would be exceeded today, I would've fled to Grimmauld Place, would've hid in my room, but I didn't. Thus I faced my fate and it happened as it was destined to be.

I had to hurry to get to my sensei on time. When we finished the training, he said to me: "You are an amazing student and I am very proud of you! You have built up an incredible level of skill and knowledge in the short time available. It was a pleasure to teach you." He gave me unusual compliments, which was not necessarily his way, but I was all the more pleased.

"Sensei, your praise makes me tremendously happy. I have a request: could you continue teaching me once a week, every Friday, from 5 pm to 9 pm?" I asked him inquisitively. A smile spread across his face. "Of course, I had the hope that you would want to continue, because you are able to reach true mastery in combat, Miss Granger," he said very seriously, and this was evident as well on his usually stern face.

"You are too kind, Sensei!" I showed my respect and bowed deeply. "I'm going to ask my bank to do a monthly membership payment, say 500 pounds a month?"

"Do that, that's alright. I'm looking forward to seeing you next Friday," he smiled, very pleased and said good-bye.

It was wonderful that we had agreed on an appointment because I had chosen to continue my training despite the resulting difficulties. I would have to leave the school without permission, but it was just too important to continue my combat training, so I was ready to take that risk. In addition, Hogwarts offered many opportunities to disappear for a few hours. When I exited the centre, the bright blue sky from this morning had vanished. It had darkened, clouds had appeared, a certain humidity had spread over London, announcing a thunderstorm. Thus now, shortly before eight, it was already really dark. As I approached the side street to apparate, I heard strange and suspicious noises behind me!

A somewhat louder, hectic shout, whispers, quicker steps that made me restless and suspicious. I instinctively increased my pace as well, but I didn't dare to turn around, since I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that I was very well aware something was wrong.

Was someone following me?

I carefully raised my arm on which the holster with my wand was fastened. I wore my invisible horus daggers over my jeans, so I felt relatively safe and well protected. One never knew in these times, but nevertheless the uneasy feeling didn't leave. I kept moving swiftly in the direction of the dark alley. My hands were clammy with anxiety, for I still sensed the steps threateningly behind me.

They were still hard on my heels, damn it!

Bloody hell, I could hear their rattling breath. They came closer fast and I was sure that these people were following me! I realized that not only would I not be able to apparate unseen, I also didn't know with whom I had to deal with - whether it was some young muggles, who wouldn't be scared of my wand, since they would be more amused about it than anything else: "What kind of thin stick is that?" But, in the end, I'd have an easy job of it. Or the other alternative, which I didn't want to think about, but with my luck it was almost certain that I got the less desirable alternative.

There was no other choice; I had to turn around, face the enemy and see what or who was following me. There were at least two, I was able to determine based on the sounds they made. Just do it. You can do it, Hermione, I told myself relentlessly. And then I did it, throwing a quick look over my right shoulder from one second to the next...

What I saw made my blood freeze in my veins. I could see two big male figures in dark pants and t-shirts, which were known to me, unfortunately, and so the worst that could have happened, happened once again. Once again luck was on my side. I had the honor of two recently graduated Slytherins who had probably recognized me as Hermione Granger, and could hardly believe their luck.

Okay, where was Snape when you needed him? I'd love to take this alternative, to spread my legs for him, for money or not, but no, I had to get the best part of the cake again. Great, I was a darling of fortune. My mind was working with full capacity. What was the name of the two thugs who chased me? I knew them from seeing, they had been on the Quidditch team, hadn't they? One I finally recognized as Bole, an ugly guy who had gotten too many bludgers to the head. His long, blond hair was tied in a pony tail. The black-haired man next to him was Derrick. I remembered that he was the other's partner as beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team, and was rather tall compared to the broader Bole. Both had been unsympathetic bullies already at school. Unfortunately, the sight of these two brutal guys only allowed one conclusion, and I just didn't like it: Death Eaters! Probably marked with quite new and still painful dark marks. I hardly could believe my luck, I, of course, had to encounter Death Eaters in a purely Muggle area. What business could they possibly have here?

And these idiots were, of course, also former schoolmates who immediately recognized me as Harry Potter's friend. Sometimes life wrote really more grotesque stories than any crappy film script. It was enough to drive me crazy. Since they were wizards, I could use my wand - there had to be something good about the whole thing, because they wouldn't expect it. They would also underestimate my defense, as they only saw a little schoolgirl in me. I had to use this to my advantage, because I was outgunned purely by these bullies' physicality. I should take it as a challenge; I had prepared myself for a long time for this kind of situation: Death Eaters! And also, to stand up to physically distinctly superior people in a fight and to be an equal opponent. Now the time for hesitation was over for me. I wanted to jump into this fight and I did, similar to the situation with Snape, when I just did it and acted like the whore he thought I was; so, I would go through this in the same way.

I currently didn't feel any fear or anxiety. My breathing was normal and calm, the sweat had dried on my palms, so I mentally prepared myself for the expected confrontation and nipped any panic in the bud. I had to keep a clear head and banished my rushing blood into the background with an inner, icy control. I steadily increased my pace, ran hurriedly into the alley, welcomed the darkness there, and saw it as a friend, instead of something terrifying. I quickly ran around the corner and hid behind one of the many garbage cans scattered across the alley. From there I aimed my wand at Bole. Now I needed to be fast and catch them by surprise. As one witch against two wizards speed was my only advantage. Let's do it! The two started to run, too, as they apparently suspected that I had seen them. They had already drawn their wands while in pursuit.

I fired a wordless Expelliarmus towards Bole, who's wand got ripped out of his hand in the middle of his sprint and flew towards me. He looked stunned, dumb as he narrowed his eyes in disbelieve but stubbornly continued to run, even speeding up. I loudly called out a Stupor against Derrick, who was running a little farther ahead. The red ray from my wand hit him directly in the chest and hurled him violently against a wall. He hit the street hard with his body. One could hear a distinct crunch, before he sank to the ground slowly, unconscious. This happened in a matter of seconds. Haha, I had just knocked out an 18-year-old, but my joy only short lived as his buddy was charging towards me like a giant wild bear. Because I had disarmed him, I counted on a physical attack.

I was also stained with Boles blood from head to toe, still holding one of my daggers in my hand, was ready to continue fighting any time, and only now did I regain consciousness that I had suffered an injury as well. I quickly looked down my body. Thanks to the adrenaline rush that the fight had given me, I felt absolutely no pain! I was in shock I confessed to myself with a sardonic and almost sad smile when I saw Boles knife still inside me and was tempted to scream at this sight. But then I recalled all the medical books I've read, which had been at home and which I already finished reading when I was a young girl. Thankfully my parents were doctors, this had enabled me to take a few first aid courses.

My blood rushed pulsating in my ears and the adrenaline pumped heavily through my veins. So, where were we? The knife was stuck in my left side near the back. I knew the spleen had to be there, not a vital, not an essential organ. I cocked my head in thoughts, as I squinted down at myself. I had to suppress the strong impulse to grab the hilt and pull it out, but that wouldn't be good. As it was now, the wound was sealed neatly and I couldn't bleed out, hence I came to the ice cold, calculated decision to leave it stuck inside me because I wasn't very handicapped for the time being.

It wasn't easy, but I had the discipline to consciously leave it stuck, although I was struggling with myself heavily. I lifted my head and took a deep breath. Shit, that had been a near thing. I had almost kicked the bucket. Stop, I told myself to abandon the thought, because there was no time for that. I had to act quickly, because if someone found me, in this more than compromising situation, I would have to explain way too much. I would get into trouble if anyone would discover the corpse, not only with the muggles, but also with the wizards, so I had to tackle everything well planned, in order to get out of it safe and sound in more than one respect. Bloody Death Eaters!

I put my dagger away with a skilfull move, and raised my hand to see if the purchase of the holster for my wand had been worth my money, since it had been beaten out of my hand before, and lo and behold, Ollivander had not lied about his family secrets, my wand was already in its proper place. Very well, the investment was worth it, just like these magical knives, which cut and stabbed wonderfully through everything without too much effort, I thought very pleased. Next, I magically retrieved my lost dagger, which Bole had slapped out of my hand.

Good that I had always been fast in making plans, because I had already something in my mind. First I called both the wands of Derrick and Bole to me with an Accio and let them magically disappear in my sports bag. I had dropped it behind the dustbin before. Only then did I turn to the living person on the ground, Derrick, which I knocked out with a stunner. I could see that he seemed to have a laceration at the back of his head. The rest of him seemed more or less alright. Apparently, the Stupor slowly lost its strength, as Derrick groaned again and agai. I guessed he had a broken skull, based on the sounds when he had crushed into the wall earlier, but I didn't care. Despite this whole grotesque situation, I got a brilliant idea to show Fudge that maybe strange things were happening in association with Death Eaters after all, for how else would two Hogwarts graduates have acquired the Dark Mark?

I hardly moved, instead turning around to and fro with caution. I cut off the shirts on the left shoulder of both of them with a diffindo, and immediately I could see the tattoos of a skull with a snake twining out of its mouth, almost glowing on the white, pale skin of their left forearms. In spite of this surreality, I continued to pursue my quickly devised plan, functioning like a robot. Now I woke him up with an Enervate, brought him out of the unconsciousness of the Stupor. Derrick immediately opened his eyes panicky and wanted to attack me despite his injuries. I expected that and was faster. First I spoke the Incarcerus, whereupon ropes surrounded his body and captivated him. He shouted angrily, just to whimper seconds after, as his head ached painfully.

An Obliviate followed immediately, his eyes grew dull and glassy. I ordered him to forget his name, his family, the Dark Mark, me, the alley, everything, instead I whispered to him, malicious as I was, that he was a muggle and something like magic doesn't exist. Punishment and revenge were necessary and I was really furious. Hell, a knife was sticking out of me! My mood was at rock bottom. When I finished the spell, he still seemed spaced out. Wonderful, now I had practised the complete deletion and re-creation of a completely different life story, too. I was getting better and better for my parents. Next I turned my head and looked at the corpse indifferently. I wouldn't have to invest much effort with him, I thought deprecatingly. What an ass!

My left hand absentmindedly wandered to the knife in my side and ran lightly over it. I grimaced. Not now, stay with the present, you can take care of it later, I motivated myself. I tried to move as little as I could and kept my upper body rigid all the time, as if a board had been strapped to my back. Well, what you wouldn't do when a knife was stuck in you. It couldn't be so bad when my humor came back, I thought resigned, but not really amused. With a Mobilicorpus, with which I spelled the corpse, the lifeless body rose in the air, floated in the middle of the dimly lit alley like in a bad horror film. If one were inclined to be afraid, one would surely pee in one's pants now. With a wave of my wand, I gently directed the dead man to lie down over his mate. This wasn't meant as a macabre joke, no, I had a reason to pack the two as a small package. I grinned to myself nastily, maybe even a bit crazy, it was clearly the shock!

Well, then I would go on to break another law of the ministry. Now I would for the first time - somehow I recently experienced far too many first times for my taste - create a portkey. I looked around the alley attentively and discovered a coke can, which I called to me with an Accio. It flew into my hand. I concentrated myself, pointing with the wand to the can and whispered, "Portus, the ministry of magic, arrivals hall," whereupon the can lit up in bright blue, then looked completely normal again.

It wasn't an easy spell, but it wasn't difficult for me either. I floated the can into the hand of the wounded Death Eater and stepped back, watching the events closely, hoping to have done everything correctly, and soon I was alone in the alley stinking of fresh blood and summery, decaying garbage. I had totally forgotten my bloodsoaked look. My thoughts were still dwelling on the two attackers. In consideration of whether I had hopefully created the portkey correctly and what excitement would rule now - if it had worked - in the halls of the ministry in which two Death Eaters had appeared out of nowhere. One was severely injured, more or less left dumb after an Obliviate, and the other a violently mutilated corpse. Well, hopefully there weren't any small children right now. I would employ Rita to find out everything, because I was way too curious.

But now I had another, much more urgent problem. To get myself out of the mess and without much ado. Since the immediate danger was now gone, I felt a faint dizziness suddenly invade my body. I staggered slightly and braced myself, exhausted, with a hand on the wall. Ah, now that the first rush had subsided, throbbing pain spread through my body. I mean there was a knife stuck completely inside me. How did I deserve that? Had I done anything to anyone?

Oops, well, now I did, but I didn't want to think about it, I wanted to go home. I realized, as my hands began to shake and I let out my quivering breath, that getting home would be a long way. Pull yourself together Hermione, you haven't been through this to collapse now. I could still do that later, I reassured myself with nearly emotionless. Then I called my bag to me and concentrated solely on Grimmauld Place. Home, Sirius, Harry, Help! Concentration ... and jump.

I stumbled forward a few paces, groped blindly for the snake-alike door knocker of Black House, my breathing becoming more and more laboured. Sweat had formed on my upper lip, the effort I had to use to keep my body alert was quickly tiring me. I was lucky enough to have made the leap, which had brought me directly to the door of the city house and not into an alley, but in my distress I didn't care, since I was just glad I had not splinched myself into individual parts. I felt an incredible, heavy fatigue settle in my bones. Not now Hermione, pull yourself together, I chided myself. You've made it this far.

With an unbelievable effort I kept myself on my shaky legs, trembling uncontrollably. I once again looked at the unadorned, simple black wooden handle, which stuck out of my side. I almost lost myself in the sight, it held some incredible fascination for me.

Wow, the desire to immediately remove the foreign matter from my body was really huge. I actually had to use every bit of discipline and self-control I possessed to not do something very unreasonable. As I had said, I had apparated directly in front of the entrance, as I didn't have the strength to not choose the direct way. Now I carefully opened the door. It was just after eight o'clock, almost half past eight, everyone was most likely in the kitchen. Good, that was good for me, I thought, exhausted, and blinked with tired eyes. In less than half an hour, my life had turned by 180 degrees. Tears filled my eyes, I hadn't expected that I would be faced with the decision between life and death or at least not so soon, not that early, nothing, absolutely nothing would be like before!

Trembling I released my breath and pushed a sob back down my throat, where a huge lump was forming and I was tempted to cry loudly and scream for help! Well, there would be casualties in war, that couldn't be avoided, but we weren't in a real war yet. Oh, reality could really rob you of any illusion, I bluntly realised. I had always seen myself as a grey entity, I now had gotten my first black, raven-black holes in this greyness and when all was done, I was afraid that maybe I would be dark through and through.

That genuinely scared me, it scared me stiff. A choked sniff escaped me. I think I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The experiences I gained within the last few months might have been a bit too much for me, because it wasn't easy to handle it all! I always saw myself as tough and strong, but in this instant I felt empty, small, and weak. In any case I didn't want anyone to see me like this, because I was sure I looked terrible. Just now it occurred to me again that there was probably no place on my body that wasn't spattered with blood. I raised both hands and looked at them, but what I saw was sobering. Slender hands, blood stained hands.

So I dragged myself slowly and exhausted through the gloomy hall towards the stairs. One step after the other, I tried to bolster myself up, but it was getting increasingly difficult to lift my legs for the next step. Eventually I stood at the bottom of the stairs. I wanted to go to the library, but looking up through the stairwell at the upper floors of the house made it seem like climbing Mount Everest. I groaned and swallowed heavily, my larynx was unpleasantly scratchy. Gosh, my throat still hurt! I wondered how it looked like.

An uncertain glance at the stairs and I decided that it was no use to stall. Grit your teeth, I told myself. You defied two Death Eaters, compared to that this here is but a joke. I held tightly onto the banister with my right hand, pulling myself up step by step. The pain that swept through me as I raised my legs to climb up the stairs almost made me black out, as the knife scratched inside me with unconscious movements. This feeling would haunt me in my nightmares. My breath escaped loudly, rasping and puffing.

Wow, I felt dizzy, clearly from the blood loss. I didn't bleed like a pig, because I had let the weapon stuck inside me fore-sightedly, but it seemed like I had internal injuries that bled violently, which really didn't surprise me at all. I had managed it, I was on the first floor. I breathed like a walrus and dragged myself into the library with difficulty. I walked in like an old woman through the door and then my legs suddenly collapsed under my body, devoid of all strength. I sank to the floor with a scream, twisting quick-wittedly to land on my butt, since a knife still protruded from my body. Oh my goddess, who hated me so. I let loose another choked scream. It was hurting so much!

At last tears streamed down my cheeks, leaving trails in the dried blood on my face. I had to look like a monster. The monster I had become today. I drew my wand with an unsteady hand as I sat on the ground like a picture of bleeding misery, and thanked all the gods that I had practiced the Patronus spell here with my books in the last few weeks. After I had experienced the rescue of Harry and Sirius in our third grade, and now, after Harry had been attacked by Dementors in the midst of the holidays, it had seemed very sensible to me. As this corporeal protector could transmit messages as well, it was also suitable as a means of communication. I conjured my Patronus, and sent it away, hoping that he would understand and rush to my rescue, for I couldn't carry on much longer. My energy reserves were completely depleted, not only physically but also mentally. It was getting darker in front of my eyes, but I didn't allow myself to fall asleep as long as I was alone, so I directed an Episkey towards me, which was extremely weak and didn't really help.

I embraced my maltreated neck with my hands and ran my fingertips over my throat, discovering that I could feel the pressure marks of Bole's fingers and hands. Goose bumps ran over my entire body. I had only narrowly escaped from death. It made me feel terribly cold and sent my whole body shaking. Next, I called a blood-replenishing potion from my bag, which I had dragged up the fucking stairs. I managed to drink the potion before I couldn't hold myself upright any longer and let myself sink gently to my right side. How would the medics say, stable side position. Then I could feel my last strength flow out of my body, just like my gloriously deep-red blood, which was spreading over my grey T-shirt, which I noticed with blurred sight as I squinted down.

I stared dizzy at the door, my eyelids becoming heavier and heavier...

End of Hermione's POV