I couldn't watch. I just couldn't. Everything had turned out wrong. Everyone I loved was dead or sentenced to death. The world I knew as my own was crumbling down around me. And I couldn't do anything but stand there. And now, I stood in on top of pyre, as the love of my life was being put on trial. If he didn't give up the location of the Rebellion, I would be sacrificed in the name of the Dark Lord. But if he gave them up, we would be rejected from their ranks and forced to run. They said we would be free to run together. Not free to live together, not free to even live apart. To run. We didn't even have the luxury of being protected because of our cooperation. We would still be hunted.

And if he gave them up, we might even be hunted by the Rebellion as well. I could see him struggling to make a decision. I could feel the heat of the fire on the torch just barely out of reach of the wood and gasoline that surrounded my feet. I could feel the burning glares of those who surrounded his platform, and the disgust by those who surrounded mine. I could hear the words that people screamed at me, the horrible words they said hoping to get a reaction from me. But no matter what they said, I wasn't paying attention. I was watching him. Watching his mouth. I looked into his eyes and for what felt like an eternity we stared at each other. I supported him with every decision he would ever make. I loved him so deeply, I could only hope to communicate the love I felt for him through my eyes.

Suddenly I felt everything go silent. The Guards keeping a watch over me all faced towards the main stage. I gave one last glance at him, and I saw it in his eyes. He was going to give them up. He was going to save my life and give up the Rebellion. I wanted to shake my head and scream at him to not say a word to them, but I knew that no matter what happened, there was a chance I would die either way. I didn't care whether I lived or died, but without the Rebellion there was no hope against the Dark Lord and his men.

Suddenly I saw a man, a man I hoped to never see on that stage. But there he was, standing proud and honest. I knew in that instant, it didn't matter what my love said. We would both be killed. By him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Hollow. May I introduce the newest member to our... Guard. He who has evaded me for years, he who has defied me since birth, has finally chosen the right side. The former leader of the Rebellion, Harry Potter." I closed my eyes and felt an immense feeling of disgust wash over me.

Harry had never been the Chosen One, he was never the Leader of the Rebellion. He was a great soldier, a phenomenal fighter. He had a good personality and was strong. The stories told that he was among the most loyal of followers. Aye, followers. Harry Potter is and always has been a decoy. While Voldemort was busy running around trying to kill Harry and his small band of followers, me, Neville and a few others ran around searching for ways to destroy the Dark Bastard. When we eventually found a way, we'd manage to nearly complete the task, save a few little details.

Now that he had Harry there was no telling what would happen. Harry could very well just be a spy and just be playing the field a bit more than he normally does. He could also be done with playing the second best game when everyone clearly knew that he was the best. Or at least that's what he generally thought. While both he and Neville had the requirements to be the Chosen One, there could be only one Chosen One. For the longest time we had all assumed Harry and Neville had understood that. They had grown up like brothers, training and fighting and dueling and learning as hard as the other. They both wanted to prove their worth. They knew that who ever wasn't the Chosen One was going to be an exalted Body Guard and decoy for the other.

Since the Battle of Far End, everyone had known that Neville was the Chosen One. It wasn't because Neville was better than Harry, and it wasn't because he had been in the right place at the right time. Neville had been chosen due to the Prophecy and the Oracle as well. Harry was supposed to have understood, but by the way that he had been moping about the past few weeks, it was no secret that maybe he blamed himself for not being better. Maybe if he had been better, trained harder, and took things a bit more seriously he would have been the Chosen One.

But that's what made Harry not the Chosen One. Because Harry thought it was all based on skill and strength, he missed out on the important thing that made Neville stand out and was the number one reason he was the Chosen One and not Harry. Neville had friends and was kind to other people. Sure Harry was nice enough, but when it came to talking about him, he was worse than a Malfoy in some respects. He was arrogant and thought a bit too highly of himself. But he was a very good warrior and fought vigorously for our side. And we really appreciated that. He was good for us, but with him on the other side, all they got was a load of muscle and some information they didn't have.

Nothing that would be important to our missions. Harry had no idea what we had been doing to rid our world of the Dark Lord. While Harry had been running around giving someone for Him to chase, the real Chosen One had been sneaking around the country finding all the necessities to defeat the Dark Lord. Harry hadn't known anything we had done. No one had told him. We had actually even asked if he wanted to know what was going on while he played Hide and Seek. But he scoffed and declined. He didn't want to know the strategy, he just wanted to fight and fight he did. Oh fight he did.

"So tell me Harry, where does the Rebellion hide it's forces?" Here it was. The moment where we found out whether Harry was a traitor or had just been caught and 'defected' so he could report to the Rebellion. I was really hoping he was a spy. If he was a traitor, he would be killed. And I would be the person to kill him. That was my specialty. I was an assassin, a mercenary. Whatever you want to call me. Either way, if he was a traitor, I would get the honor of killing him.

"They are hiding out in East Russia. That's the main headquarters. But they have a small place here in England where a small number meet to discuss strategy. It's just around the corner from here. Right outside the entrance to Diagon Alley." I hung my head, only to put on a show for those around me. So he was a spy. Yes we had a large headquarters somewhere outside of the country, and a small place here in England. But we had moved from the one around the corner months ago. We were way on the East side of the city, nowhere close to here. And we were definitely not in East Russia. Our main headquarters were in Italy.

I vaguely heard the screams of another. It was my love. He was screaming at Harry, putting on a show so that the Dark Lord would believe him enough. And he did. I saw that smug smile I knew was just his as he realized Harry wasn't lying to him. He would realize it sooner or later, and being the good actor Harry was, eventually he would pin everything on us. Unless Harry managed to find a way to get us released before Voldemort found out.

I looked at my love. My husband. I remember our wedding night. The ceremony had been short, and the reception even shorter. While none of the Death Eaters had noticed he was missing at first, he had no plans of returning to them. We were married on a cliff by the sea. We had bound our love together right there. Wizards do not bind their love and lives the way Muggles do. We don't celebrate our unity by consummating. We celebrate it by creating a memorium to our wedding day. To ourselves using our magic as one. It is a combined effort of both parties, and it is always something beautiful.

Ours was a rose, that in direct moonlight glowed brighter than any star. It could not be touched by any one but ourselves, and no Muggle would be able to see it. It's understandable why Voldemort wanted to keep Muggles out of the equation. In my view, it took away from the beauty of the Union Spell. Your new spouse wouldn't be able to see it, their family wouldn't be able to see it, it wouldn't be a creation of the two powers combining. In retrospect, it was understandable, but it was still terrible that he would want to kill every single Muggle and Muggleborn out there.

I looked at my husband, and suddenly saw the fear in his eyes. What had happened that had made him look so dreadful? I looked towards the front stage, and saw Harry arguing with Voldemort, and Guardsmen coming my way. I knew what this meant. I knew why he was looking at me like that.

I had been sentenced to death. I was a Muggleborn what did I expect? I stood there, proud and unwavering. I may be dying but the Rebellion would live on. I looked at my love. He was fighting his binds. He wanted to get to me. He wanted to save my life. But I couldn't let him. I watched as the torches got nearer to the pyre. I knew that within a few moments I would be up in flames. I took small whiff of the flames of the torch and drew back in disgust. It wasn't normal fire. This fire was designed to burn a witch. Regardless of the spell she used to protect herself.

This was it. I watched my husband fighting and Harry arguing. I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind. I felt him. I knew I was in his mind now. If I stayed here as I died, I would remain inside him for as long as he lived. A small piece of me would remain with him forever. And that's what I planned to do. He would want it.

I saw an angelic him and an angelic me. In his mind we were away from all of this. From the war, the tyranny, the binds that kept us imprisoned. We were together in his mind, always and forever. Unwavering love and trust.

"I love you." I said, grasping his hand. A tear ran down his cheek and like an echo, I could hear someone screaming in pain and agony. But it wasn't me. It was him. I held his face, I knew he was watching me die. "Look away love. Look away." I whispered to him. I closed my eyes hoping to reach to his conscious.

I could feel his conscious fluttering. He had heard me, and he closed his eyes, and turned his head away.

"Draco, I love you. No matter what happens I am here with you." I whispered into his ear.

Tears slipped down his face, and his breath shuddered. His shoulders were slumped, and I knew that I was dead. He looked up and saw me, my ghost, the remaining piece of his wife. I saw his eyes light up with happiness when he realized I could remain with him forever now. "I love you too, Hermione."