Hermione Granger and the Deathly Hallows

What ravages of spirit conjured this tempestuous rage
Created you a monster, broken by the rules of love
And fate has lead you through it
You do what you have to do
And fate has led you through it
You do what you have to do ...

**

It was all too quiet.

That was the first thought Hermione had as they first entered the castle upon their return from the Shrieking Shack. She couldn't remember a time that Hogwarts had been absolutely silent like this; it was a school--schools should never be silent. Schools should always have students and ghosts and professors and house-elves and even a pesky poltergeist safely walking, talking, laughing, and joking through the hallways. They should all feel safe. That was what school was for: to have a safe, supportive environment where you felt free to express yourself and learn all you could. That was why most people believed that their schooldays were the best days of their lives, because you were safe, so safe that you could end up finding out just the kind of witch and wizard you were always destined to be.

It shouldn't be like this. Schools shouldn't be reduced to such a state. It just shouldn't be allowed. She glanced over her at her two best friends, who were just as pale and heartsick as she was. She knew that Harry, who had never had a home until he had arrived here, had to be especially horrified to see what had happened to his Hogwarts. It would only stiffen his resolve to walk back out of the door towards the Forbidden Forest.

No, she told herself as Voldemort's magically magnified voice echoed in her head again, inviting Harry to show his friends some mercy by joining him in the Forest, giving him only one hour to comply before the battle would be renewed. Voldemort knew Harry well, so well that it made Hermione sick to her stomach, but he didn't know her and Ron at all. Voldemort had no idea that she and Ron would rather die than let Harry go out there. So would Ginny, Hagrid, Professor Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Neville, and hundreds of others that were waiting for them somewhere in the castle. If they all joined forces, Harry wouldn't be able to escape. He would remain safely in the castle as they figured out what they needed to do next. She glanced over at Harry again, fighting the urge to take a comforting hold of his hand, as she had in the cemetery at Godric's Hollow. He didn't need affection right now; he needed answers.

That was what was in that flask Harry was clutching. Right after they checked on everyone, they needed to find him a Pensieve so he could finally get some answers about Severus Snape. Harry deserved that. Hermione had to gulp down another sob. Even though Snape had killed Dumbledore, it had been rather horrible to watch him die. Thankfully, Ron's hand had been there to hold hers.

Shakily, she asked her friends in a whisper where everyone was. Ron silently led the way to the Great Hall and for a moment, the trio all stopped to take in the crowded room. The survivors were all bunched together in commiserating huddles, but right in the middle room, lined up in a painstakingly neat row were the dead. They must have recovered Fred's body as the Weasleys were all gathered around one particular corpse. Corpse. Hermione's heart kicked itself just at the thought of Fred Weasley as a corpse. None of this seemed to real, even now.

Ron immediately went to join his family while Hermione walked straight to Ginny who was standing off to the side, her face swollen and blotchy. She knew perfectly well who Ginny really wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't right now so hopefully Hermione would be an adequate substitute. She put her arms around her dear friend, prompting a sniffle from Ginny. "They--they killed my--" Ginny tried to get out, but no other words could make it through. She could only hug her best friend for dear life and let out another cry that broke both the women's hearts.

"I know, I'm so sorry, Ginny," Hermione soothed. Her eyes flicked over to the bodies next to Fred and even though she abruptly felt as though she had just been pushed off a building, she kept it inside as she led Ginny back to her family. There wasn't time to grieve for them now; she needed to focus on Ginny right now. "Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm fine, they couldn't touch me," Ginny said with just a hint of her fierce pride. "Harry taught me well." Her eyes went to the entrance to the Hall, panic flooding into her voice. "Where is he? He came with you two, right?"

Hermione turned around and wasn't surprised in the least to find that Harry was nowhere in sight. Ron overheard Ginny's question and almost broke away from Percy, but Hermione's reply quickly stopped him. "He's probably finding a Pensieve so he can see Snape's memories."

We still have a minute, Hermione added silently to Ron. Take your time. Ron nodded and knelt next to his father to ask if he was all right. Mr. Weasley could only nod gravely. Mrs. Weasley was sobbing too hard to even notice Ron's arrival. Ginny turned to Hermione, probably about to ask why Harry had Snape's memories, but Hermione couldn't stand it any longer and had turned her attention back to the two bodies arranged next to Fred. "Ginny, what happened to them?" she asked.

"What--oh," Ginny said as she realized Hermione was gazing at Remus and Tonks lifeless forms. She had to wipe her face before continuing. "I saw the whole thing. Lupin was fighting Dolohov--Dolohov had just killed Colin--" Hermione's hand flew over her mouth . "--I know, and anyway, they were fighting and Tonks came tearing in to help--he was so scared when he saw her but she saved him, she blocked a curse for him--he didn't see it coming because he only saw her--and he smiled at her--I've never seen him smile like that--and then--and then Bellatrix came out of nowhere and--" Hermione emitted a little cry to tell her that she didn't need to hear anymore. Bellatrix had had a death wish for Tonks for quite some time now. "And then Remus--Remus caught her when she fell and he was crying so he couldn't see Dolohov come back at him and--" It was Ginny's turn to clap her hand out her trembling lips to swallow a sob. "Poor Teddy."

Hermione walked towards her favorite teacher's body, legs stiff with horror, so she could kneel next to his body. She couldn't even comprehend how this was going to affect the new baby. Very tentatively, she touched Lupin's hand and flinched. It was so cold. It was so odd for Remus Lupin to be cold; ever since she had known him, he had been one of the warmest men she had ever had the privilege of knowing. Automatically, Hermione turned around to find Ron. He was still with his brothers, but his eyes were on Lupin and Tonks, face agape with grief. Their eyes quickly found each other and they knew they were thinking the same thing: that these two had been fighting for each other and died side by side, and in a really horrible way, it was just what they wanted. If they had to go, this was how they wanted to leave this world: with each other. And Ron and Hermione both knew this because they would do the very same for each other. This could very easily be them lying on the cold, stone floor, never to rise again. It still could be them.

Hermione sat back on her heels, dizzy with sorrow. She didn't think it was possible to feel this much grief. She lifted a hand to cover her face, ignoring the throbbing sensation that shot up and down her arm, so she could hide her tears. If she started up again, she may never stop. Besides, she wasn't sure Ron could take her falling apart right now.

"Hermione." Hermione quickly got to her feet and returned to the Weasleys, thinking they needed her to do something for them. But Bill only looked concerned as he took a few steps towards her so he could indicate her arm. "You're bleeding."

Hermione twisted her arm around so she could once again inspect the gash in her upper arm caused by the explosion that had killed Fred. It seemed to have stopped bleeding for the moment, but she could tell that the scab was rather precarious; the slightest amount of pressure would cause it to bleed afresh again. She really should bandage it or something before they went into battle again.

Ron clearly felt the same way. He pointed to the bulge in her sock in a manner that left no room for argument. "Get out the dittany. We've got time to heal it now."

"Right." Hermione knelt down to comply with Ron's request, her knee so close to Fred's skin. Unlike Lupin, he was still warm, as if he was just sleeping. She swallowed hard and forced herself to focus on finding the curative solution in the depths of her purse. When she pulled it out, her eyes traveled at just the right angle to see a dark stain on his shirt, indicating that someone else needed the dittany a lot more than she did. "George?"

George didn't raise his head. He didn't move in the slightest. He remained stock still, seated at his twin brother's head, not shedding a single tear. He simply sat there, completely contained and remained all too silent. Ron twisted his head so he could see from Hermione's angle; he too spotted the blood. "George?" he repeated while holding a hand to Hermione. She slapped the dittany into it as the rest of the Weasleys jumped into action. Bill and Percy charged over so they could forcibly sit George up; it was only then that George suddenly burst into life, struggling and shouting like a deranged criminal being dragged off by dementor. Despite his son's struggling, Mr. Weasley deftly managed to rip aside George's shirt, revealing the sizable puncture wound in George's ribcage. Blood coated his entire side, grimly indicating that he may only have a few moments left.

Ron was already uncapping the dittany, but the bottle was snatched from his hand by none other than Molly Weasley herself. With a precision and skill that only a mother could possess, she poured just the right amount onto George's wound. He flinched and screamed as the flesh sizzled, but Bill and Percy held him tight so he wouldn't displace the soothing liquid until it had done its work. Mrs. Weasley rested her hand on George's forehead, soothing him with a soft lullaby that she must have sung to him when he was just a baby.

But it was Ginny who really saved the day; she was the one who saw what her brother really wanted. As George continued to struggle and moan, she left Hermione's side and boldly took a hold of Fred's limp, heavy hand so it could rest in George's. "He's right here, George," she told him softly. "He's not going anywhere."

George's face broke in half. He finally exploded with his grief, collapsing into Bill's shoulder, murmuring feverishly something Hermione couldn't quite make out. Mr. Weasley crouched closer to George so he could hear what his son was trying to tell them. Whatever he said, it made Mr. Weasley's face crumple as well as he grabbed George from Bill's grasp and hugged him with all of his strength. "No, no, son, no," he comforted, "don't ever think that." His eyes searched for one of his children to assist. "I think he's in shock," he told them very quietly, "can one of you get something--?"

"I'll get it," Percy offered as he instantly jumped up and hurried over to the medical station Madame Pomfrey had set up at the other end of the hall. Bill remained seated on the floor, covering his scarred face with his shaking hands, wondering when this night was ever going to end. Mr. Weasley continued to support George's sobbing form while Ginny knelt next to them, her hand covering George and Fred's. Ron took the dittany from his mother so he could return it to Hermione, but before he could request once again that she heal that cut on her arm, Mrs. Weasley had fully realized that her youngest son had returned to them very much alive and seized him with a little cry. She whispered his name over and over again as if reassuring herself that he was real, that she hadn't lost another son tonight. Often, whenever his mother tried to hug him, Ron would act like a typical teenager and roll his eyes and quickly pull away, but tonight, Ron just sat there and allowed himself to be rocked back and forth by his mother.

It was that beautiful image of mother and son that prompted Hermione into action. Without thinking twice about it, she turned on her heel and left the hall, sniffing hard to keep all of her feelings at bay, determined to go find the rest of her family before it was too late. He must have gone to Dumbledore's office to use the Pensieve there so Hermione ran up the stairs as fast as she could and went straight to the stoic gargoyle. "Is Harry in there?"

"Password?"

"I don't know--I actually don't need to go up there--Harry should be alone," Hermione babbled needlessly. She wasn't particularly gifted in the field of women's intuition, but this time, she was absolutely certain that she was right. There always had been so much more happening between Snape and Harry than what was led on. A childhood rivalry between Snape and Harry's dad wouldn't have led Snape to bully Harry the way he had in their very first Potions class. Even though she was only eleven at the time, Hermione had keenly picked up that something deeper was brewing there, past all of the loathing and jealousies that often occurred between the bravest Gryffindors and most cunning Slytherins. After all, in twenty years, she didn't even expect Malfoy to still sneer and call her a Mudblood every time he saw her. Those sorts of hostilities fade as you mature, but Snape's rage was lasting for a lifetime and it was about time that Harry finally learned just why it was there. "I just need to know if Harry Potter went up there."

"Password?"

Hermione swore as vulgarly as Ron. The gargoyle wasn't like the Fat Lady; he wasn't magically designed to directly interact with students. He could only ask for the password, recognize when it was correct, and step aside. Otherwise, he would remain mute and useless. She closed her eyes and pressed her fists to her eyes so she could try to think of another place in the castle where there could be a Pensieve. If she couldn't get into the office, perhaps Harry couldn't either. The only other Pensieve she knew about was the one Snape had had in his office, but Snape's office was now Dumbledore's office so it had probably been moved in there. This could be the only place Harry could have gone. He must have been able to guess the password and was up there right now.

She glanced anxiously at her watch. They were less than fifteen minutes from the deadline. It had taken at least a half an hour to walk from the Shrieking Shack to the castle, so Harry had been alone for about fifteen to twenty minutes. Snape had given him a lot of memories before dying so it was possible that Harry was still in the office, lost in the mind of Severus Snape. Of course, it was also possible that Harry had finished and already left the office, probably under the safety of the Invisibility Cloak, making it impossible to track him. Her feet danced in uncertainty. Running around the castle, asking everyone she met if they had seen Harry probably wouldn't be the best course of action. Standing in front of the gargoyle on the off-chance that Harry might suddenly appear wasn't either. But she had to do something. Think, she chided herself, what would Harry do?

He'd go.

There was no other answer. There were no other thoughts. He'd go. Of course he'd go. In his mind, there was no other option.

She ran to the nearest window to see if she could catch one last glimpse of him before it was too late. The grounds had actually never looked so beautiful in the early dawn light, but not because she could see her best friend. Hermione gripped the ledge to keep herself from falling to the ground. He was gone and she had just let him go. She had let him walk off to almost certain death without even saying good-bye or offering one last spell from all the books she had read. She was supposed to help him, that was what she had swore to him that she would do, that she would be there through every single part of this journey, even all of the messy, difficult parts. Ron hadn't even been able to do that. Ron had had to leave, but she had stayed, even though it had very nearly killed her. She had been the one person to remain by Harry Potter's side, but now, in the hour when he needed her the most, she had walked away from him without saying a single word. She had thought she was helping him by giving him some privacy and comforting Ginny, as she knew he'd want someone to do, but now she knew she should have stayed with him. How could she have been so stupid?

"So he's already out there?"

Ron's voice was so matter-of-fact and devoid of emotion that Hermione almost didn't recognize it. She lifted her head to look at him. He was standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, head held high, silently watching her already grieve for their lost best friend with a painfully blank face. He looked so calm, almost serene, but Hermione knew better. She knew him so very well. He was just trying to put on a brave face for everyone. Not many others could see it--some members of his own family wouldn't have been able to tell--but Hermione knew that it would only take one little jab to spin him completely and totally out of control.

And that was why, for the first time in her life, Hermione Granger very deliberately lied to Ron Weasley. She turned away from the window and shook her head. "We don't know that," she said as calmly as she could. "We--"

"Don't lie."

Hermione's stomach clenched at the sharp tone to his voice. She should have known better than try to lie to him, but another glance at his face convinced her to keep on trying. She was going to ease just a little bit of his suffering if it was the last thing she ever did. "We really don't know anything, Ron," she said. She indicated the gargoyle with a nod of her chin. "I'm pretty sure he came up here to use the Pensieve. I think he's still in there--he hasn't come out yet--"

"Unless you're wrong," Ron pointed out flatly. "Or he already left by the time you got here."

"Maybe," Hermione conceded. "But I wasn't in the Hall for very long and Snape gave him a lot of memories, I really think he could still be there--"

"Why are you suddenly stupid?" Ron asked. Hermione's jaw dropped, outraged, but before she could respond, Ron jerkily stepped forward to take a hold of her wrist to show her the ominously ticking watch. "We're ten minutes from the deadline. You really think he's still up there wandering around Snape's greasy head?"

"Show some respect," Hermione snapped without thinking. "The man is dead."

Ron quickly welcomed the opportunity to raise his voice in exasperation. "The man killed Dumbledore--I'm supposed to show him respect? For what?! He never showed me any!"

"Well, then you shouldn't stoop to his level!" Hermione returned.

"What level?" Ron pointed out hotly. "You just said it--the man is dead! He doesn't have a level anymore! I can say whatever I want about him!"

"That's not how it works!" Hermione disagreed.

"It works however I want it to work!" Ron yelled irately, ears and face flushed as he began to pace, fists clenched, chest heaving. He raised an eyebrow cheekily at her, taunting her, daring her to challenge that self-involved statement, actually secretly begging her to put her hands on her hips and scream at him, because he secretly thought he deserved it.

Under normal circumstances, Hermione would have realized what was happening and put a stop to it, but right now, when she was in as much pain as Ron, she couldn't see anything but her fury. Her temples pounded with hot, adrenalin-filled blood, urging her to keep fighting, keep yelling, keep pushing things over the edge, because it was letting loose all of these awful feelings that were inside her, and even though these feelings were now directed at the one person who really didn't deserve it, at least those feelings were out of her system so she might at least begin to recover and move on.

So, knowing that responding to his last statement would be idiotic--due to the fact that his last statement was idiotic--Hermione hastily changed the subject. "Well, he gave those memories to Harry for a reason!" she pointed out wildly. "Maybe it's something that could help us! So you should try to--"

"Help us with what?!" Ron's voice cracked incredulously. "How's Snape going to help us?"

"I don't know how--that's what Harry's going to find out!"

"Yeah, because Harry is going to rely on Snape to get us out of this? He's always done that--always stopped in the middle of a fight and scratched his head and thought, hmmm, what would Severus Snape do?"

"At least he thinks!" Hermione countered. "You just run blindly in and get yourself attacked by an aquarium full of brains!"

"At least I remember that people can cast Nonverbal spells and don't just silence Death Eaters before I turn my back on them!"

"At least I can cast Nonverbal spells!"

"Not when you forget you're a witch, as you like to do!" Ron feigned looking all around him in utter desperation and adopted the high-pitched voice he used whenever mocking her, "Right, but there's no wood!"

"You just did the same thing an hour ago! You wanted my cat to come save the day instead of using a simple spell!"

"Well, if you had taught me that spell better, maybe I might have thought to use it!"

"I tried to teach it to you!" Hermione gasped in outrage. "I told you you were pronouncing it wrong! You just didn't want to believe me and then you got angry when I did it correctly and made you look bad!"

"Well, you're lucky that you did, because if you hadn't been crying in that bathroom with the troll, Harry and me never would have been friends with you and then where'd you be?!"

"Probably a lot--no!" Hermione silenced the rest of that horrible and completely false statement. She covered her face in frustration as she heard her immature insults reverberate down the corridor, not believing that those words had just come out of her mouth. Perhaps something had made her become rather stupid. "Why are we fighting now?" she demanded to her palms.

"Because we have to!" Ron shot right back, still eager to scream and yell. "It's what we do!" Hermione dropped her hands, eyes dangerously overly-bright, and it was then that Ron gave up for now. He found a moment to take a breath so that when he continued, it was at a much lower decibel. "We have to, because we both know that he's out there and we can't do anything about it." He had to walk away from her when her face crumpled and went to another window so he could stare out at the Forest. "So we fight to try to forget," he finished needlessly, abruptly exhausted and completely drained.

The unwanted tears were back, but Hermione didn't brush them away. She watched her best friend clutch the window ledge for dear life, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt he was right, that they were just trying to put off the earth-shattering reality just a little bit longer, but really not wanting to believe it. She wanted to believe that she and Ron were just stupid and immature and incredibly hurt so as always, they had taken it out on each other. They had both been a bit on edge when he had found her; they should have known that it would escalate to this. They should have known better. That's all this was. That had to be it.

So, now lying to herself as well, Hermione stepped forward and tried one last time. "Ron, we don't know anything yet--"

"YEAH, WE DO, WE KNOW HARRY!"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut, eyes wide. She had known Ron for a long time--so long that she knew him better than she knew herself--and she had never seen him explode like this. He had actually been somewhat calm a moment ago--actually calm, not the pretend calm he had been when he had first arrived--and to go from that state to this--that was dangerous even for Ron. Usually, when he was angry, he became quite red in the face, but now he was pale as death, struggling to breathe, and trembling so much so that Hermione worried about his balance.

She stepped forward again to help, but Ron just backed away from her, too lost to care that it was his turn to openly cry in front of her. "It's Harry! Harry will always go, no matter what'll happen to him, that's why he's Harry--he thinks by going, it'll somehow keep the rest of safe, even though that's bloody stupid!" Ron raised his voice so the rafters shuddered in hopes that Harry, wherever he was, could somehow hear him. "If he wants to keep us alive, he needs to stay--that's what the prophesy says, that it got to be him, so if he gets himself bloody blown up, he might as well takes us all with him, because we'll be as good as dead!"

Shouting the final, fatal word was the last straw. Ron had to pound his fists into the wall, scrunching up his face in an attempt to keep everything from pouring out of him, but not being able to, because all he kept seeing was his dead brother's face floating in front of him. He smashed his fists against his eyes in hopes of blocking the dreadful image, but it was no use. Fred was going to haunt him for a good long time. He sat down hard on the floor and Hermione instantly knelt beside him so she, for once, could wrap her arms around him so he could cry to his heart's content while knowing that she would never, ever leave his side.

Hermione wished that she could say something particularly comforting or supportive, but there were no words in a situation like this. So they remained perfectly silent for a good long time, arms and tears tangled up with each other's. When she felt his breathing grow more even and his heartbeat slowed to a more normal rate, Hermione swallowed back the last remaining dregs of misery so she for once could be the strong solid one. It was about bloody time she cared for Ron as much as he cared for her. "I'm so sorry, Ron," she finally whispered, uncertain if anything else could summarize so concisely what she was feeling at the moment.

"Yeah. Me too," Ron said thickly.

Their eyes simultaneously returned to the window above them. They couldn't see out of it, but they knew that something was happening out there that may spell the very end of their world. Hermione wiped her face one last time before asking as bravely as she could, "So what should we do now?"

She expected Ron to demand that they go fight, and she would have gone too, without a second's hesitation, but instead Ron just said with newfound sagacity, "Wait."

"Just wait?"

He nodded grimly. "It's what Harry'd want. Besides if anything happens--" His voice broke, but he kept on going, "we need to be ready to get the snake. We'll have to end it if he can't."

It was the last answer Hermione wanted to hear, but she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that it was the correct one. "Yes, you're right," she admitted shakily. She was in dire need for a joke or a smile so she added, "You can't send all your best pieces out on the chessboard."

As she had hoped, Ron let out an exhale that could constitute as a short bark of laughter. "Yeah," he replied. "Good to know that Harry finally learned something from playing chess with me." Hermione laughed very softly, but Ron couldn't hear her. He stared towards the window again, his hands twisting together in the highest of anxieties. He looked as though he was only seconds from bursting out into tears again. "I can't lose another brother."

They both knew that he wasn't talking about Bill, Charlie, Percy, or George. Hermione could only turn her face to give the side of his face a soft, comforting kiss, because she couldn't promise him that could never happen and she wasn't about to make a promise she couldn't keep. Not to Ron. She could just promise to always be there to help him get through whatever happened, no matter what.

The display of affection was just the cue Ron needed. For a few long awful minutes, he had surrendered to the grief of his lost brother and now he wanted to drown himself in one perfect thing that had happened this evening. He twisted his face to find hers and kissed her so hard that everything inside of her hurt in the most delightful way for hours afterwards. She gasped against his mouth, momentarily dizzy, but she returned it just as eagerly. She knew this really wasn't an appropriate time, but it seemed that they did their best snogging during the most inappropriate occasions. And as they prepared themselves for whatever was to come, it would be immensely helpful to have such a potent reminder of what they were fighting for.

Ron broke it off just as abruptly as he began it and returned his eyes to the window. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" Hermione repeated, laughing through her sudden tears. Ron glanced over at her, shocked by the foreign sound of laughter. He couldn't seem to remember what that was like. "Don't ever be sorry for that."

One side of Ron's mouth twitched upwards. "Yeah. Well, I should have guessed you wouldn't mind. Snogging me in front of Harry and all."

"I just thought he should get used to it," Hermione returned flippantly.

An uncontrollable gale of laughter finally rippled through Ron. "Yeah. I reckon so." He lifted an arm to encircle her shoulders and hold her close. Hermione nestled her cheek deeper into his shoulder, breathing him in, and together they waited for their best friend to come back home.

**

"There you are!" Ginny Weasley skidded a stop in front of the couple and glared at her brother and best friend. Neville Longbottom hurried up a few moments later, panting and hardly believing that such a small girl could outrun him so easily. "What do you think you're doing?"

"We're waiting for Harry to come back," Ron said grumpily, tightening his arm around Hermione's shoulders to prevent her from getting up.

"To come back?" Ginny's hands went to her hips. "So you knew he left? You knew he went out there by himself to face Voldemort?"

"Well, yeah, he's Harry, of course he did--"

"And you just let him!?" Ginny screeched at such an alarming intensity that even a banshee's ears would have been afflicted. "You let him go off alone?!" Her face broke. "I can't believe you--!"

Ron jumped to his feet to take a hold of his sister's shoulders. Hermione quietly stood up as well, feeling more than a little guilty for lingering outside Dumbledore's office for so long. They should have been helping the others. "Hey," he said sternly to her. "Listen to me. We had to." Ginny let out a bark of disbelief and Ron tightened his hold on her so she was forced to listen to him, even though less than ten minutes ago he had been ranting himself about the same thing. "He had to go. He couldn't have just waited here for another battle. You know he couldn't have. He'd rather be dead than let us all be--"

"Well, now he is!" Ginny interrupted savagely. "Satisfied?"

Ron ignored his sister's caustic tone; he knew she didn't really mean it. "We can't always follow him, Ginny," Ron told her. "No matter how much we want to. Sometimes, he has to do it alone. And we have to let him."

Ginny was losing ground rather quickly. She sniffed very hard and blinked as rapidly as she could. "You don't understand--I felt him--I thought I was crazy or that I just imagined it because I wanted to see him so badly, but he was there--he was going--I think--" Her chin trembled. "--I think he wanted to say good-bye." She sank into her big brother, crying as hard as she had the night she had been taken down to the Chamber of Secrets. "He thinks he's going to die," she confessed to them in a broken whisper. "He really does. I felt it. He thinks--"

"Well, it doesn't matter what he thinks," Hermione supplied helpfully. She took a few steps towards her friend. Ginny lifted her head from Ron's chest, eyes so full of hope that Hermione almost couldn't bear it. "That doesn't mean he actually is going to--" Hermione found she couldn't finish the sentence and hurried on to the next one. "He is Harry Potter after all."

"Yeah," Ron jumped in, catching on. "He's thought he was going to bite it loads of times--"

"Ron."

"What?" Ron said defensively. "He has! And he's always come back, right? No matter what, Harry comes back, right?"

As he had hoped, the instinctual bickering between Ron and Hermione had lessened Ginny's tears and even brought a very faint smile to her blotchy face. "That's right."

Ron took a hold of his sister's shoulders again, this time in a much gentler manner. "Gin, think about it," he said earnestly. "Do you really think Harry'd just leave us all in this mess? Do you really think he'd go out there and get himself killed?"

Ginny closed her eyes so she could imagine the boy she had loved from birth. She shook her head.

"Then I think we're okay," Ron concluded. "Harry'll come through. You'll see."

"Yeah," Ginny said under her breath. "You're right." She threw her arms around her brother again and hid her face in his shoulder. Ron returned the embrace with a clenched jaw while Hermione kept her eyes on the floor, all of them clinging valiantly to the faint thread of hope Ron had offered to them, but not being able to deny the deep throb at the pit of their bellies that prevented them from putting their complete faith in their friend. They all knew very well that for the first and last time, Harry may not come home.

Perhaps this was the reason why Neville at this moment quietly stepped over to Hermione and asked her, "What's going on with the snake?"

Hermione's eyes popped. "How do you know--?"

"Harry told me."

"Harry?" Ron and Hermione both shouted as one. Ginny extracted herself from Ron so she could finish wiping her face and listen to Neville even though he had already told her this story.

"I saw him," Neville explained grimly. "I was looking for more bodies and he came out from under the cloak--scared me half to death--and he told me that in case the two of you were busy or something, I should kill the snake. That whatever we did, we had to make sure that that snake got killed." He looked back and forth between the two best friends. "So why are we killing it?"

Hermione fumbled to explain as concisely as possible while not betraying Harry's confidence. She hardly thought Harry would mind, as he had told Neville to get the snake, but she couldn't be certain. "Well, you see--it's rather a long story--"

"Does it matter?" Ron interrupted sharply, giving Neville a knowing raise of the eyebrows.

Neville didn't even need a second to consider. "No. Not at all. Just curious."

"So we can tell you afterwards?"

"Yeah. Sure." Neville gave his wand a quick flip of readiness, prepared for anything. "What spell should we use, Hermione?"

"No spells," Hermione disagreed with a shake of her head. "You have to use an extremely powerful magical item. Here." She knelt down so she could extract the beaded bag and give Neville a basilisk fang. "You'll have to stab it with this."

Ron looked at the long fang doubtfully as he too took a proffered fang from Hermione and shoved it into his pocket along with the mangled Hufflepuff cup. "Is this going to be enough?" he asked worriedly. "That thing is pretty big."

"It's going to have to be," Hermione said. "We don't have the sword anymore--it's all we have. Go for the eyes," she advised with sudden inspiration. "Even the most dangerous creatures are surprisingly sensitive there."

She stuck a third fang into her pocket before closing the purse and returning it to her sock. Before she could complete the action, Ginny stood before her with her arm outstretched, eyes blazing. "Where's mine?"

Ron snorted. "Yeah. Right."

"Ron," Hermione chided as she shoved the beaded bag into her sock and rose to her feet so she could appeal to Ginny. "Ginny, we'll take care of it. You--"

"No," Ginny said with a fierce shake of her head. "No, you have left me out of enough. I'm sick of it. I'm helping. Give me a fang."

"Ginny, I really do not want to be killed by my best mate," Ron said. "Especially not tonight. Just let us--"

"You leave Harry--"

But before Ginny could continue that thought, Voldemort's magically amplified voice was back, resounding horrifyingly across all the corners of the earth, as he stated the four words that shattered the four friends' worlds:

"Harry Potter is dead."

Voldemort kept on talking, telling lies about the circumstances of Harry's demise, making his pointless threats, but it hardly mattered. Nothing mattered anymore. All of the life drained out of Hermione's face as she turned as if in a nightmare to Ron, trying to breathe. "Ron..."

He was already grabbing one hand to squeeze his conviction into her while his other hand went to her cheek to suppress any tears. "It's a trick," he soothed. "He just wants us to believe that. We don't know anything for sure yet." He would have been much more convincing if he wasn't bone-white with horror. His eyes flashed over to his sister. "Gin? You hear me?"

Ginny had grabbed a hold of the wall to keep herself from falling to her knees. If it was possible, she was even whiter than her brother. But when she turned to them, her eyes were as hard and defiant as Harry's were in the midst of every battle. "Yeah." She took off towards the Front Doors, all the while chanting 'he's not dead, he's not dead, he's not dead...'

Neville looked down at the basilisk fang in his hand, fingers curved tightly around the weapon, and clenched his jaw in a way that was so like Harry that Hermione's heart broke. He gave Hermione and Ron a quick nod, as a soldier often silently says good-bye to his comrades before racing off to certain death, and took off after Ginny. Ron and Hermione looked at each other for one more second, trembling violently, trying to gather strength from each other but not being able to find any, before following their friends downstairs to the Entrance Hall.

"NO!"

Hermione's breathing started to accelerate at a dangerously rapid rate at the sound of Professor McGonagall's anguished scream. Minerva McGonagall had only uttered that sort of cry once before, the night Dumbledore had died, the night they had thought all hope might be permanently lost. But no tears fell. Not yet. That would only happen if and when she saw it with her own eyes. She wouldn't allow herself to believe it. Not yet.

She burst her way through the throng of people that had gathered on the Front Steps to meet the army emerging from the Forest, pushing and elbowing her way through to the very front. No one wanted her to see, but they also knew she had to, so they docilely parted the way for her and Ron. The only person who dared to try to stop them was Percy, who had grabbed Ginny and was trying to get her to return the castle. But after silently clawing her way free like a tigress, Ginny managed to free herself just in time to reach the front of the crowd along with Ron and Hermione so all three of them saw him at the exact same time.

"No!"

"No!"

"Harry! HARRY!"

Chaos reigned around her as everyone else began shouting and screaming, but Hermione couldn't process any of it. Oddly enough, she could only stand there, numb and frozen, and think about Mars bars.

Mars bars were her favorite Muggle candy. Since her parents were dentists who knew all too well the effects of excess sugar on your teeth, she wasn't allowed very much sweets as a child, which made the rare instances when she had a Mars bar all the better. She had smuggled a few of the special candy after Christmas holidays first-year and after a particularly grueling day, she had given herself a treat before settling down to homework. Ron, bored with beating her in chess, had challenged Dean Thomas to a match, so he was safely across the room while Harry--

"Hey," Harry greeted as he set down his broom and Quidditch robes.

Hermione blinked in surprise. "I thought you had practice."

"Canceled," Harry replied. "Even Wood thinks it's too cold." He blew on his numb fingers to warm them up and tilted his head curiously at the sight of the candy bar in her hand. "Is that a Mars bar?"

He looked almost as delighted as she always was when she saw one. Hermione smiled. "Yes. Want some?"

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said gratefully. She broke the candy bar in half and handed it to him. He dropped down into the armchair beside her and took a big bite with a grin. "Dudley used to eat these all the time, right in front of me."

"And of course, he'd never let you have any," Hermione said dryly. She hoped she never met Harry's cousin; she had a feeling that even she might be compelled to hex the life out of him.

"Of course," Harry agreed. "But I did get to smell it on his breath as he pounded me, which is almost as good as actually eating it." He took another contented bite.

Hermione broke off a corner of the chocolate so she could take a very small bite. She liked to make it last as long as possible. "Your cousin sounds delightful."

"Yeah. He's the best," Harry quipped. He watched her take another little nip of the candy. "Like to make it last, do you?"

She nodded. "It's my favorite."

"Yeah," Harry agreed as he mentally considered all the Muggle candy he had ever had. "Mine too."

And that was all. That was the end of that discussion. But somehow, those few sentences had gone a long way. It had started when Harry had thoughtfully given her a Mars bar for her birthday the following year. Hermione had then brought one to Diagon Alley the summer before third-year to give to Harry. Harry had returned the favor the following summer, and so on. Whenever one of them had a chance to buy a Mars bar, they always got two. Even this past year, when they had been in absolute hell, during one of his forages into a Muggle supermarket, Harry had swiped two Mars bar on his way out the door. No one else knew about their little exchange; they never even spoke about it with each other. One would just hand the other the candy, exchange a smile, and that would be that.

She and Ron had a million of intimate secrets, but she and Harry had only one: their special affinity for Mars bars. And really, they only needed one. That was their personal point of connection that was trivial and perhaps even stupid to most people, but it meant the world to both of them. It was actually really stupid, if you thought about it, but Hermione nevertheless wouldn't deny that if she ever had any doubts about her friendship with Harry, all she had to do was look at a Mars bar.

Not that she ever really doubted Harry. She had occasionally, during their fight in third-year and a few times in fifth-year, but other than that, he was the one person she could utterly rely on. And she had known that from the beginning, from the very moment she had set eyes on him. Sometimes, you can just look at a person and know that they were going to be your friend. That was what happened when she walked into that compartment on the Hogwarts Express. She had known that about Harry. With Ron, her heart had sped up and something kicked in her stomach, warning her that this was the boy who was destined to change everything, but she hadn't known what that was. She had actually thought it was just extreme annoyance. With Harry, something had very decisively clicked in her brain and her heart had wholeheartedly agreed that yes, this was someone would be her friend through thick and thin. He was the perfect choice

So that was why she had tried so hard to befriend them, as it became annoyingly apparent that Harry and Ron were a package deal. Harry was the reason she had continued to try to be nice to the two of them, even after they both had been rather rude to her. Harry was why she had sat next to Ron in Charms class on Halloween, so therefore, he was the reason Ron had insulted her and she had run into that fateful bathroom that afternoon. Harry was why the trio existed. That's why, if she ever wondered if her and Ron dating would affect the three-way friendship, she would tell herself no, it couldn't possibly. Because Harry was everything to both of them. He made them who they were.

So if he was gone--if he was actually dead--then how--how was she--

The shock was wearing off at an alarming rate; everything was starting to ache and die inside of her. Her fingers finally started to twitch in an attempt to find the one person who might be able to get her through this, but before she could, the sensation of someone beside her going limp and crumbling to the ground jerked her into action. She dove and sat down hard on the ground just in time to cushion Ginny's fall. She first thought Ginny had fainted, but Ginny's eyes were wide open and she was murmuring with feverish intensity, "He's not dead, he's not dead, he's faking, he's not dead, he can't be, he's not dead, he's not dead..."

"Ginny," Hermione whispered soothingly although she was anything but calm herself. She wrapped her arms around her friend. For the first time, she realized just how small Ginny Weasley was. She had to be at least three inches taller than the younger girl. "Ginny, please."

Ginny twisted her face to hide herself in Hermione's shoulder, much like a young child buries herself in her mother's lap after waking for the worst nightmares. "He wouldn't die, he can't, he's Harry..." Her voice trailed off as the first sob broke through, silencing all other words. She clung to Hermione with all of her strength.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort's wand rose towards them. Hermione instinctively covered Ginny as much as she could while Ron took one step to the side to block whatever spell that could come near them. But there were no lethal shower of sparks: there was only a bright, blinding flash of light that tugged Hermione's vocal cords into a tight knot in her throat.

Ron turned to her and tried to speak, but nothing could come out. She lifted her head a bit helplessly. There was nothing they could really do until the spell wore off. Shuddering with annoyance, Ron returned his focus back to Harry. Hermione looked around at the crowd behind them. Everyone around them was similarly afflicted; Ginny was still managing to sob despite the loss of her voice. Voldemort raised his arms in triumph, laughing at their obvious helplessness. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Ginny moved her head so she could watch a sobbing Hagrid lower Harry's lifeless form to the ground. She could only mouth his name once before returning to the shelter of Hermione's shoulder. Hermione craned her neck to search for Mrs. Weasley. Ginny really needed her mother right now.

"You see?" said Voldemort. He strode back and forth next to Harry's limp form; Hermione's stomach curled at the image. She wanted this hateful man as far away from Harry as he possibly could. He had already cost Harry so much. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron suddenly exploded, rather surprised with himself that he had broken the powerful spell just by the sheer force of will and the unspoken bond of brotherhood he and Harry shared. The rallying cries of their allies surrounded them, fortifying their courage. Ron squared his shoulders to Voldemort, shouting the dark wizard's name for the first time as loudly as he could, along with the worse slurs he could think of.

Voldemort's wand was flashing again, this time his spell was so strong that everyone recoiled a step or two. Infuriated beyond rationality, Ron started forward as Voldemort continued to lie and lie about Harry's death, but Hermione grabbed his hand just in time. He was trembling just as violently as she was. "No," she mouthed pleadingly at him.

Ron looked as though he wanted to silently argue with her, but before he could, Neville Longbottom was passing by them, pausing only for a second to give Ron a warning tap of the shoulder before bursting out into the open, warding off all attempts to stop him, a fang-shaped bulge in his back pocket. Hermione dropped Ron's hand to cover her silent gasp. Apparently, Neville wasn't about to wait any longer to carry out Harry's mission.

Neville raced towards Voldemort, but a torrent of sparks bashed him in the shoulder and knocked him backwards, his wand sailing straight into Voldemort's outstretched hand. Ron twitched forward again, but Hermione yanked him violently to his knees before he could go anywhere. He couldn't leave her right now. She couldn't take it if he got himself killed too--this was too difficult as it was--she couldn't breathe--

Ron turned to face Hermione, but he faltered when he saw who was with her. His other hand quickly went to his sister's shoulder. "Gin?" he breathed, surprised to find that Neville's pained shout had once again broken Voldemort's spell. "Gin? You with us?"

Ginny lifted her head. "He's not dead," she almost spat at him through her tears falling in a silent, fast curtain over her face. "He's not. Don't you trust him?"

Ron tried to answer without falling apart, but Hermione wasn't listening. Her eyes were straight ahead of them, on the foul and odious man who had done this to their best friend. Voldemort only studied the three friends huddled on the grass together for two seconds, but Hermione felt time slow and nearly stop as she quickly imagined what he was seeing: one of the tall, brave, blood-traitor Weasleys holding the hand of a bushy-haired Mudblood who was cradling another girl--a younger, much prettier girl who was crying with the reckless abandon of someone who knew that her life was over because she would never again know the love she had had with the dead wizard on the ground. Voldemort seemed to be the most interested in this third person and Hermione suddenly realized why: he didn't know about her. He knew about Ron and Hermione's devotion to their best friend, but he had no idea that Harry Potter had fallen in love with a feisty red-haired girl who could out-fly boys twice her age and had one of the kindest hearts Hermione had ever known.

And because of that palpable love and grief that was emanating from Ginny, Hermione knew without a doubt that he was marking her for death. Because Voldemort's fetish with Harry would never end. Now that he had Harry--Hermione's ribcage threatened to break--he would move on to every single person Harry cared about, because everyone had to be punished for caring about Harry Potter. He would never stop. That was just the way Voldemort was; he would never stop killing. And Ginny was next on his list.

The moment Voldemort broke eyes with them to focus on Neville, Hermione twisted her head on Ron's shoulder so she could whisper to him without Ginny overhearing her. Ron's eyes darted over to Voldemort and returned to his sister. "Hey, Gin," he said lightly. "Ginny, let's get you inside." He craned his neck to find one of his brothers to help him.

"I'm not going anywhere until I can see him," Ginny said coldly. She may appear to be utterly devastated, but she was still as sharp as ever. She narrowed her eyes at Voldemort. "He'll want to be buried with his parents."

There wasn't time to argue with Ginny. Ron's eyes were back on the ultimate enemy as he taunted Neville. He swallowed hard. "Neville's running interference for us, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded, sick at heart. By diverting Voldemort's attention, Neville was giving them a prime opportunity to get to Nagini. Neville, however, was very likely to be killed in the process. But of course, Neville had known that. He had just chosen to do it anyway.

But, as always, there was no time to grieve. They knew they only had very little time before Voldemort grew bored with Neville's defiance and struck. And that was the moment that they too had to make one last stand against him. Ron squeezed Hermione's hand, eyes just like Harry's. Now that Harry was gone, he was going to take command.

"When this breaks, we make a run for it," Ron whispered to her. His eyes remained only at the snake, memorizing the way she moved with his chess-trained sharpness. "Go straight for the snake. I'll distract. You get in there and kill her. Got it?"

"Yes--no, wait," Hermione changed her mind. Her eyes dropped down to the long cut on her arm she received from the explosion that had killed Fred. Hermione pinched the precarious scab to renew the blood-flow, knowing that it would pique the interest of the hungry beast. "She's seen me before. She wants my blood. I'll distract her."

Ginny lifted her head again, no longer crying. She got to her knees and held out her hand. "If you're the distraction, then give me your fang," she instructed. "I'll help Ron."

"Ginny, no--"

"I'll join you when hell freezes over--Dumbledore's Army!" Everyone but the three of them responded to Neville's shout with loud cries of their own. Mr. Weasley seized the opportunity to make his way to his youngest son and kneel next to him.

He held out his hand to Ginny, face sweaty but determined. "Ginerva, let's go." He gave his son a proud nod. "We need to let Ron and Hermione do what they need to do."

"But, Dad--"

Voldemort waved his wand and out of one of the castle's shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the halflight and landed in Voldemort's hand. Hermione strained to see what it was: the Sorting Hat.

"Ginerva, move!"

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

Ginny knew once again that she couldn't argue with that tone of voice. Reluctantly, she allowed her father to pull back into the safety of the crowd. Mr. Weasley kept his eyes on his son. "We'll wait for your go. We'll hold them off as long as we can," he promised Ron. He flicked his eyes over to the crowd behind them. "We're all behind you."

Voldemort pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. To confirm Mr. Weasley's promise, several Order members moved into better positions. The Death Eaters raised their wands to keep them at bay, but they all knew that the stand-off wouldn't last much longer.

"Thanks, Dad," Ron said in a strangled voice, chest swelling in preparation for what they had to do. It was up to him now.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me."

Wordlessly, Ron and Hermione took each other's hands and squeezed.

The Sorting Hat burst into flames. Hermione screamed as their friend was consumed by the fire, but there was no time for anything but action. "Go!" Ron sprinted forward, basilisk fang clutched like a dagger in his tight hand. Their friends and family swarmed around them, shielding them from any possible harm. Grawp was charging across the grounds, the centaurs were sending a shower of arrows, sparks were zipping all around them--it was chaos, utter completely chaos, but throughout it all, Hermione kept her eyes on the snake, only on the snake, it had to die otherwise all of this was absolutely for nothing--

And the snake's head was neatly sliced off by none other than Neville Longbottom and sailed through the air, prompting a universal call of triumph among the Order, even though nobody knew just how monumental this moment was.

"Well, that was convenient!" Ron shouted as he skidded to a halt, ducking to avoid a shower of spells flying towards them. He forced down Hermione's head as yet another curse attempted to knock the life out of them. She quickly dragged them backwards, warding off Death Eater's curses with fast flicks of her wand, so they could sprint back inside the castle. But before they got very far, Ginny was suddenly back by her side, squeezing the life out of her arm, gasping for air, but with fresh hope in her eyes.

"Where's Harry?"

As if to echo her question, Hagrid's voice boomed across the grounds, asking the exact same question. Ron jumped to his feet to see for himself while Hermione wisely stayed low so she could protect them with fast Protection Shields. Her eyes adeptly went straight to the spot she had memorized, scarcely daring to hope that her life could be complete again.

The patch of grass that Harry had been gently laid upon was empty.

"Well, son of a bitch," Ron muttered. He couldn't help grinning like an idiot. "Son of a bitch!" Another curse nicked past them much too close for comfort, rudely vanquishing their joy. The Order was rapidly being pushed back into the castle. They had to move now. "Go, go, go, go, go!" he ordered them.

They took off, but Ron was sprinting the other way, so Hermione immediately halted. She wasn't going anywhere without him. "What are you doing?!"

"Getting Neville, go, get Ginny inside!" he yelled right back at her. He was gone before she could follow.

Hermione made a mental note to yell at him when this was all over and shoved Ginny back towards the castle. There was a mob of creatures at the entrance, all smashed together as curses and spells flew everywhere, so it was impossible to tell who was a friend and who was a foe. Hermione kept a tight hold on Ginny's free hand as they joined the stampede and surged back into the castle. The battle seemed to be renewing in earnest inside the Great Hall, so that was where Ginny instantly headed, eager to finally be apart of Harry's war.

Hermione tried to follow, but her path was suddenly blocked by a gigantic, hairy arm. She swerved in hopes of avoiding it, but she couldn't. She slammed into it, hard, and would have bounced backwards onto the floor if the arm hadn't wrapped around her, lifted her off of her feet and wrenched her back into the owner's thick, broad chest, her legs swinging helplessly in the air. Greyback drooled in anticipation on her bare neck. "We meet again, my sweet."

And Hermione Granger finally learned what Defense really was all about. Without second-guessing herself, without thinking, without worrying, she reacted. Hermione stabbed her wand backwards and fired a Repulsion Curse into her captor's stomach. Greyback let out a howl as he flew backwards and Hermione dropped to her knees and immediately covered her head to shield herself from the three fast curses that zipped over her to keep the werewolf from getting anywhere near her. She twisted around to see where Greyback was, but as she expected, Ron was already yanking her to her feet and pushing her backwards, wand still shooting curse after curse at the Death Eater. Neville was right behind him. "I've got him, go!"

She wasn't listening; her wand was already flashing again, this time enacting a Shield Charm in between Ron and the curse aimed at his back fired by none other than a gleeful Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix shrieked, crouched to the floor to avoid the spell backfire and scowled as she searched for her unexpected enemy. Hermione couldn't help grinning at the foul witch. She had to admit, that felt really good.

Bellatrix's eyes bugged, but she chuckled maliciously as she rose to her full height. Her wand twitched challengingly at Hermione. "Well, well." She paced a few careful steps forward. "Miss Mudblood knows how to play."

"Well, I do have a good wand," Hermione retorted. Bellatrix' eyes narrowed and she hissed with hatred as she recognized her own wand in a Mudblood's hand. Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder to expose the scar Bellatrix had left on her neck that terrible night. It was time for Bellatrix to have a few scars of her own.

The two women fired at the same time so the sparks hit each other and deflected. Hermione's curse ricocheted against the wall while Bellatrix's nicked a Death Eater on the arm. Hermione tried to return fire, but Bellatrix was already sending a rapid succession of curses. Hermione had to hit the floor with a thud and roll off to the side, only to hastily roll to the other side as Bellatrix attempted to cut off her escape path. Hermione jumped to her feet under the protection of yet another Shield Charm to give her a moment to catch her breath and then flicked her wand towards her opponent so the shield bashed Bellatrix in the face before disappearing. Although she was momentarily stunned, Bellatrix managed to get out a bout of Cruciatus that grazed Hermione on the side of the face. Hermione flinched and fell to the floor, her wand falling away from her, clutching her burning cheek. Merlin, that hurt. She snatched up her wand, but Hermione knew it was probably too late. Bellatrix was just too quick.

However, she looked up in time to see Bellatrix fly in the air and sit down hard on the floor, bouncing once, twice, three times before settling to the earth. Ginny ran forward to pull Hermione to her feet, wand still on Bellatrix. "All right?" she asked breathlessly. She hardly waited for an answer; she was already considering Bellatrix with hardened, determined eye. She looked just like her mother.

"What?" Bellatrix hissed as she clamored back to her feet, enraged that she had almost been taken out by such a little witch.

"You took Sirius from him," Ginny bit out before whipping her wand furiously again. Bellatrix blocked the curse with ease, but a spell from behind very nearly took her out. Bellatrix whipped around, quickly found the third enemy, and flung her wand-arm towards Ginny and Hermione so that Luna Lovegood soared in the air, shielding Bellatrix from any possible spells, and slammed into both of her friends so the three girls fell into a pile onto the ground.

Hermione's Protection Charm rose over them just in time. "Everyone all right?" she shouted as she helped the two girls up, keeping the Shield in front of them so the rain of spells wouldn't touch them.

"Yes," Luna reported breathily. Hermione had never seen the young girl look so capable and level-headed and--well, normal. "I'm sorry I ruined the plan, Ginny."

"Don't worry," Ginny said grimly. She shook her hair out of her eyes and raised her wand again, ready for battle. Luna followed suit. "We'll get her next time."

Bellatrix raised her arms challengingly to the side, daring the girls to try to touch her. "On three," Hermione told them as the three women faced the odious women dead on, determined not to give up until she was incapacitated, captured, or even dead. "One, two, THREE!"

Hermione released the Shield; she ducked to avoid the inevitable flurry of curses from Bellatrix, counting on Ginny and Luna to cover her. Bellatrix was laughing uproariously, her shrill cackles echoing throughout the hall. "You think I can't handle three brats on my own!" Bellatrix slashed her wand so Luna had to dive out of the way, nearly somersaulting into a pair of Death Eater's legs. She then instantly blocked Hermione's curse, which came back much too quickly. Hermione flew backwards, victim of her own Impediment Curse, and struggled to get back to her shaking feet as a Killing Curse missed Ginny by mere millimeters.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Mrs. Weasley ran forward, throwing off her cloak to free her arms with all the ferocity of the most powerful of all warriors. She almost didn't look human: she actually resembled a mythological god. Bellatrix spun around to face her and laughed at the unlikely opponent. Hermione made it back into a standing position and started forward, but Mrs. Weasley's voice stopped her. "OUT OF MY WAY!" she ordered the three girls.

Hermione sucked in her breath as the two women began to duel. She had never seen anyone duel like that, with such raw hatred and clear intent to kill, and only kill. Neither of them would be satisfied until the other was dead. They didn't want to live in a world if the other was there and if that meant that she was the one to die, so be it. Ron, Neville, and Dean all tried to join the fray, but Mrs. Weasley managed to bite out as she fought, "No! Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

Aside from McGonagall, Kingsley, Slughorn, and Voldemort, all other fights stopped so they could watch the duels. Hermione actually didn't think any other fights could happen; the two duels were using so much magical energy that the very air began to crack and smolder with the highest intensity. The walls began to shake as Hermione realized that unless this battle broke soon, the whole room was in danger of caving in.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix as she deftly avoided all of Mrs. Weasley's curses. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

Percy dove forward, but Mr. Weasley caught him just in time, white-faced and horror-struck, but knowing that he had to let his wife do it alone. Bill's hand closed over George's shoulder just in case, but George had gone pale and very still at the mention of his lost brother and didn't move a muscle. Ginny and Ron stood side-by-side, eyes wide, as they both silently pleaded for their mother to end it, and end it now, before everything went horribly wrong again.

"You--will--never--touch--our--children--again!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. Bellatrix laughed uproariously, and it was that cavalier attitude that was her downfall: Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.

Neville's arms jerked upwards in triumph, as if his favorite football team had scored a goal, an expression of complete joy on his face. "YES!" he roared, jumping up and down with his fist in the air. "YES!" Everyone around him echoed the shout as Bellatrix crumbled to floor. Mr. Weasley embraced Percy fiercely, unabashed tears slipping out underneath his cracked glasses; George burst back into life with shouts of his own, giving Bill and Lee Jordan high-fives; Luna applauded politely as if she was at a golf match; Hagrid swung Ginny up into his arms to give her an excited kiss on the cheek; Ron sagged with relief, nearly collapsing, as his head swiveled to look all around him, but he didn't have to search for very long as Hermione finally made her way to his side and threw her arms around him to keep him upright. The couple clung to each other, relieved beyond the powers of speech that the woman who had caused them so much agony was finally, mercifully dead.

Mrs. Weasley lowered her wand, exhausted but exhilarated. She stepped forward to make sure that the foul witch wasn't breathing before wiping her face and allowing herself to smile at her husband. Thanks to the cries from the crowd, she couldn't hear McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley's shouts as they were thrown backwards by Voldemort's wrath. In fact, only Ginny Weasley, from her angle up in Hagrid's arms, saw Voldemort turn and direct his wand towards Molly Weasley.

"MUM!"

Panicked lightning assaulted them all, but then, out of nowhere, a massive Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, protecting Mrs. Weasley from any possible harm. Mrs. Weasley retreated backwards, stunned, while everyone looked about the room for the person who had cast the spell just in the nick of time. Hermione, however, only looked up at Ron and found that he was grinning from ear to ear.

It was at this moment that Harry Potter threw off his Invisibility Cloak, stepped forward, and without further ado, promptly commenced to save the world.