Hermione never realized fear had a smell. That is, until today. It was...putrid, sickly and terrifying to the Brightest Witch of Her Age.
The Final Battle had been raging on for hours. Voldemort had just called for a temporary ceasefire so both sides could gather their dead and tend to their wounded. Hermione sat off to the side, her tired eyes darting between the heartbroken Weasley family, surrounding Fred, and the heart wrenching site of her former Defense professor turned friend, Remus Lupin and his wife, Tonks, laying side by side on makeshift stretchers.
"I'm so sorry we didn't stop this in time, Remus," she whispered, moving closer to the Lupins. "I'm sorry you won't be able to watch Teddy grow, to watch Harry become a husband and father, to live." She stopped, wiping tears from her eyes and turned her focus to Tonks. "You promised us you wouldn't join the fight. No matter what. I understand why you did though, it's the same reason I've been fighting. The future of our world depended on it. Thank you both, for befriending, mentoring and taking in the bookworm know-it-all. I promise this will end. Your sacrifice won't be in vain."
She couldn't continue, her sobs becoming uncontrollable. It didn't really look like Remus and Tonks laying there; Remus' forehead was smooth, without the deep worry lines that often etched his face, and Tonks' hair was no longer a bright neon color, having reverted back to her natural mousy brown after her death. Taking a deep breath, Hermione took Remus' cold hand, kissed the back, then repeated the action to Tonks, and joined the couples hands together one last time before returning to the Weasleys, folding George in a sisterly hug from behind.
Seconds later, Voldemort's voice rang out once again.
"The dead have been gathered, the wounded tended to. Potter, do you see the carnage you've failed to end? Do you see the newly orphaned children, cowering, crying for the touch of their departed parents? Meet your fate like the wizard you claim to be in the Forbidden Forest, in the place our paths first crossed all those years ago."
Wordlessly, Harry bolted from Ginny's embrace, slamming the doors to the Great Hall open, the echo of which overlapped the echoes created by the entrance doors also slamming open, reverberating until Harry was but a speck on the horizon, heading for the clearing deep behind Hagrid's Hut where Harry had first encountered Voldemort during detention in his first year. Fear kept everyone in place, even Ron and Hermione. No one had ever seen the Chosen One glowing with anger like he had just been.
Seconds turned into minutes, which felt like hours to Hermione's anxious mind. Suddenly, she was driven from her thoughts by a primal roar. Hermione's heart leapt when she saw Ron charging Voldemort, the tip of his wand illuminated green. She knew in that moment, Ron would most certainly mean the spell that was slipping past his lips.
A blink of her eye, a millisecond, maybe less, and Ron Weasley was struck down by the being that had killed his brother. Molly's anguished scream echoed across the Hall, only to be silenced by a hissed silencio sent her way by the haggard looking Lucius.
Tearing her eyes away from the broken body of her best friend, Hermione finally saw what had caused Ron to charge the most dangerous wizard since Grindelwald.
"Harry Potter is DEAD!" Voldemort triumphantly announced, to the clapping and cheering of the Death Eaters behind him.
"Are you sure about that, Tom?" a voice asked suddenly. Everyone looked around, wondering where the voice came from. Then, the bundle in Hagrid's arms leaped to the ground and promptly fell over, courtesy of another Killing Curse sent his way by Voldemort.
"As I was saying, he's dead. The "Light" has lost the," he started again, this time interrupted by harsh whispering. Eventually, the words being hissed became clearer.
"James Potter, Lily Potter, Emmaline Vance, Frank and Alice Longbottom, the Bones Family. Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black, Fred Weasley, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter. How many more, Voldemort? How many more do you have to kill to prove you're the better wizard? You claim to want to preserve the Pureblood way of life, yet you, yourself are only half-blood," gasps rang out as the last member of the Golden Trio verbally attacked the Dark Lord. "If I still had Professor McGonagall's Time Turner, I would kill you before you ever robbed so many people of their lives. Their families miss and grieve them everyday, who would miss you, Tom?"
Before Voldemort could do more than snarl at the muggleborn witch, her arm shot up, and with the hatred of thousands of magical folk running through her, Hermione hissed, "Goodbye, Tom."
The blinding light caused everyone watching to close their eyes tightly for a few long seconds after. When the light faded, the Great Hall erupted in cheers upon seeing the body of Tom Riddle, gray, aged, and haggard, laying crumpled on the floor.
It wasn't until Molly Weasley turned to hug Hermione did anyone realize something was wrong. In Hermione's place, there were only scorched areas of floor, creating silhouettes of the shoes she had been wearing.
She was gone.