Hermione woke up and for a long precious moment she believed she was sleeping soundly in her dorm room, that if she'd turn her head she'd see Parvati's bed, and that all that happened up to this point was just a horrible dream. But then she tried to move and felt unable to do so. it felt as if she was bind to the bed, although there were no visible ropes around her body.
She was in the hospital wing, all alone. It was dark outside, only bright moonlight shone from the long wide windows. The more consciousness Hermione gained, the stranger it all seemed to her. She heard faint sounds of battle outside, muffled by the thick walls of the castle. It reminded her so much of the Battle of Hogwarts. She squirmed in her bed, making the firm mattress squeak, but there was no way for her to get out from whatever spell was put on her. At least she could move, at least she was conscious, that had to count for something. And at least she could scream, so that's what she did. She screamed for help, then she screamed Moody's name over and over again, until eventually her voice gave out. Her hands were empty, her wand long gone. She had nothing, only herself.
And it was all her fault.
Maybe putting herself in this situation even though she clearly knew this couldn't end well was a way for her to punish herself.
Well, it was working.
Hermione started to slowly drown in a miserable type of self-hatred, but then the door to the hospital wing opened, and she Cho come in.
Her heart leaped over itself at the familiar face of her friend, who was stalking closer to her.
"Hermione," Cho whispered. "What happened."
"I don't remember… Moody… He made me drink something, and when I woke up, I was here…"
Cho lifted her wand, trying to crack the binds put on Hermione. "I thought I told you not to come here," she hissed. "It's turned into a complete madhouse. Everybody thinks you did it, Hermione, everyone believes you killed Harry."
She stared at Cho, who was quickly working on a spell. She felt the weight on her body lessen.
"Do you believe it?"
Cho gave her a matter-of-factly look. "Of course not. I believe that whatever happened, you did it because you have to."
A few more whooshes of Cho's wand, and Hermione was free. She sat up in the bed, not standing up for a minute, waiting for the black spots in her vision disappear.
"If Harry hadn't died, Voldemort would've been impossible to kill. Now, now that all the Horcruxes are destroyed… He is mortal…" Hermione rushed to explain.
Cho's expression didn't change. "I'm afraid that gives us little advantage – You-Know-Who's whole army is here. The Order is in shackles. We can count ourselves lucky if we beat them."
Hermione's worst fears and suspicions came to fruition.
"Is it true Snape killed Pansy?" she asked.
Cho nodded. "I'm very sorry. We need to hurry," she added more briskly, grabbing Hermione's forearm, forcing her to stand up on wobbly legs.
They went out of the hospital wing. Two incapacitated people were at the door. Cho must've taken them out. Hermione was both shocked and saddened when she saw one of them was Percy Weasley. They must've been told to keep an eye on her, but they didn't know what Cho was capable of. Both went into the corridors. Hermione realized Cho was trying to shield or hide her with her body from view – because of course, everybody here now believed she was the enemy. She looked out of the window and saw bursts of blue, red and green lights, it looked like fireworks, and it echoed all the same, but Hermione knew it was something a lot more deadly.
"Do you think Voldemort is out there?" she asked.
"I don't know, and I don't care. What's important is for us to stay alive." When she made sure Hermione could walk on her own, she released her. "But I believe he is. This might be the most important battle for him."
Cho reached into her pocket and took out a wand.
"That's not mine," Hermione said.
"Just take it. I have nothing else to give."
Hermione supposed this wand will be better than nothing.
"Thanks," she said. Then, "We need to find Voldemort."
Cho nodded.
They were almost out of the castle when the sound of a large explosion almost burst their eardrums, and the sheer force of it shook the entire foundation of the school. The right wing that had just been rebuilt fell down heavily like a tree cut off too soon. Hermione and Cho moved back swiftly as to not be hit by any debris. They turned around and ran as screams and curses from the outside reached peak volume. The Death Eaters were inside.
Hermione barely recognized who were her people – no, the people of the Order – and who were Death Eaters. The Death Eaters wore masks but so did the Order. At least Hermione didn't recognize the people who were supposed to be her friends but gave her weirdly hostile looks, although none of them tried to stop her and Cho.
They were almost out of the left wing when a man stood in their way.
"Where do you think you're going," Neville asked, pointing a wand at Hermione.
"Neville, we don't have time for this—" Cho began.
"Did you really kill Harry?" Neville asked, indefinite sadness evident in his eyes.
"I had to do it to end the war," Hermione said. "Now, we need to find Voldemort, and kill him for good."
"Harry was meant to do that," said Neville.
"Well, Harry is not here," Cho interrupted.
"Because you killed him…" Neville said quietly.
"You need to let us through, Neville," Hermione said. "Or else it will all be for nothing, Harry will have died for nothing."
The two women watched Neville's inner battle silently, both exhaling in relief when he moved to the side.
"Can I come with you?" Neville asked quietly. "I'd love to get my hands on him…"
"Of course," Hermione said.
They went into the active point of the battle where curses were coming at them from all sides, where it was impossible to tell in the dark who was friend and who was foe, where those who fell were trampled by those still standing. Hermione had two friends by her side, two people she believed she could trust, two partners in war, just like during the Battle of Hogwarts. In this moment, she missed Harry and Ron terribly, but the pain gave her strength.
Neville and Cho were masterfully fighting back the dark curses and sending even more horrible ones back while Hermione's wand was stiff and stubborn in her hand, acting out like a teenager, refusing to obey her commands, and allowing only half of her abilities to shine through, fortunately, none of that deadly or torture magic hit her, so that must've been enough.
They couldn't waste their time fighting, though. They had to find Voldemort.
Hermione ran first, through people dueling, through creatures of the forest tearing people limb by limb, through giants wrecking the entry way, through Dementors looming in the air (that's when she called out her dragon which led her through it all). She was sure Cho and Neville followed her all the way, but when she turned around, there was only fog. She stopped, calling out her friends' names, but no one answered. Instead, a figure went out.
"I thought I kept the door locked," Moody said, his voice stony like gravel. He had his wand pointed at Hermione.
"I told you we should've ended her for good," she heard Snape's voice behind her, slurring every word with slow and precise diction.
Hermione turned to look at him, unable to decide where to point her wand, and eventually deciding on Snape whom she considered a greater threat now.
"There's nowhere to go, Miss Granger," Snape said.
"Let me go," Hermione commanded. "Let me go and everything you did will be forgotten."
Snape cocked an eyebrow. "Forgotten? Nothing anybody does is ever forgotten. It's true I'll have to live with my crimes. And so will you."
Hermione was too tired and too full of adrenaline to think through those words.
"If you hadn't stood in my way, I would've already killed Voldemort," she stated.
"That would be such a heroic stance if only I believed you, Granger," Moody said.
"And if only the Dark Lord truly was here tonight."
Hermione was caught off guard. Voldemort wasn't here? Where could he possibly be?
Suddenly Moody sent a burst of red flames her way which she managed to duck away from, but the Cruciatus sent by Snape hit her right in the stomach, forcing her to her knees, ant=other hit to the ground, a third one leaving her incapacitated.
The sounds of battles and screams all around went mute as Hermione's whole existence focused onto one single point of agony. How could they be torturing her right now when they had real enemies to fight mere meters away?
"Enough," Moody barked. "Kill her if you want, but we're no butchers."
The Cruciatus lifted. Hermione exhaled shaky breaths while her body tried to get over the pain. She turned to lay on her back, staring at the sky. It was too foggy to see anything, but she imagined the stars that were there.
Snape lifted his wand, ready to say the spell that will end her life, and Hermione knew she deserved it, not only for coming here, but for all she did and, most importantly, didn't do. That was an appropriate ending for her. One that would finally let her see Ron and Harry.
She closed her eyes.
And opened them again when nothing happened. Snape seemed to be hesitating. She looked at Moody whose magical eye was turning in circles, sensing something suspicious or dangerous.
"What the—" he spoke out without finishing the sentence. At this exact moment his body was hit by a white light and then his body was sliced in two by an invisible blade, blood gushing and spurting through the cut veins and arteries, pooling on the floor.
Both Snape and Hermione stared at the scene before them in utter shock.
Snape slowly turned behind. At first, nothing was visible, but the fog. The battles ahead and beyond still continued, the flashes or various colors hitting through the white mist like different colored lightning.
And then a figure eloped from it, one with the fog, the hair practically meshing with the it, but also a complete separate entity. It was a Death Eater, that was clear from a single glance. But it was more than that.
He was tall, big and regal, the wand swishing gracefully in his lithe glowed fingers. He sent green lightnings of death, white magical cuts and Cruciatus all ways, left and right, above and below, not caring whom it hit, not sparing a second glance at those screeching in agony from the brutality of his attack. He slaughtered Death Eaters, he annihilated the Order of the Phoenix, just like he had promised to her, and he didn't care the victims' identities, he only cared that they were standing in his way. If anyone had managed to counterattack him, it was impossible to tell as the movements of his wand were so smooth and he walked her way as if floating above ground that no one could've possibly hit him unexpectedly.
He was masked and clothed, but Hermione recognized him, how could she not. She knew the way he walked, the way he held his wand, the way he delivered a fatal blow, the way his whole body filled with energy upon committing murder.
She realized Snape was so shocked by what he saw that he didn't even try to attack the High Reeve; or maybe he did, but Hermione was barely conscious at that point – it could've all been just a phantom of her imagination, the last piece of fantasy made up by her dying brain.
But no, this was real.
He was here. He was close. He looked at her, she knew he looked at her even though she couldn't see his eyes. His whole body was judging her for being so stupid, for coming back here. But he still came to save her.
"Draco—" Snape began but didn't get to say anything else as a yellow curse burst his head open and his whole upper body exploded, splashing blood everywhere.
The High Reeve had killed the others with simple Killing curses that caused little to no pain, but the two people who attacked her, the two people who had threatened to kill her he had exterminated like parasites, with no mercy and full gore. Hermione should've been disgusted, she should've felt repulsed by that, but she only felt grateful.
She tried to sit up, but her body gave out completely and he, seeing that, leaned to her and took her in his arms bridal style. He walked through the battlefield, paying to what was happening around him no mind, his sole purpose focused on getting her out of here. She breathed in his familiar scent and snuggled closer into his body, closing her eyes, feeling as safe as she hadn't in at least a few years.
He came to save her. She had refused him, she had stupefied him, and she would've died here and there, and yet he still saved her life. She would never be able to repay him.
How many members of the Order he killed tonight? Many enough to have murdered the entirety of them. And how many Death Eaters? Impossible to count. One thing was clear – Voldemort was still alive, he was still hiding, and they would have to find him.
For now, she closed her eyes, hoping to not hear or see the slaughterhouse that the battlefield of Hogwarts had turned into. But she was not granted such grace. She remained conscious until the moment Draco Apparated them out of there.