No copyright infringement intended by using the title "The Kill Order."

(I came up with the whole plot line to this without knowing it's the title of an actual book 'The Kill Order' in the Mazerunner series by James Dashner. I don't wish to change the name because the name itself is centered around my entire plot, just declaring I'm not stealing it.)

JK Rowling owns. The plot is mine.

A/N: Welcome to the beginning of the end ;) Firstly, this story is centered around dark themes. Triggers include, but are not limited to: Multiple deaths, war, possible rape and torture, violence, foul language and smut. Ron-bashing is possible. This is a Voldemort wins au! "Alternative universe" can mean some characters may or may not come across as OOC. If this squicks you out and you don't like that, I suggest you press that little x button at the top of the screen instead of trolling me about it. This is my only warning for triggering content, unless I add more, because I feel that it ruins the story by giving constant warnings each chapter. I'll be adding more characters. I'm at the mercy of my muse so I don't always know where she's going to take me. What I write sometimes surprises me as much as it does you. If you are familiar with my works you'll know I enjoy thinking outside the box, in fact, a lot of my content is original. Anything written in this story that isn't canon is most likely made up by me unless I've stated otherwise, in which, I will always touch base with another writer if something unique of theirs has inspired me, and it will be noted in said chapter.

This is a Dramione fic, however, if you don't like Romione you should avoid it because it exists in my fic.

I do not wish to have any of my original elements recreated in any way without my permission. If I've inspired you and you'd like to talk to me about it, you can contact me on FB Gryff_inthegame or via Tumblr gryff-in-the-game.

If any of the above material is triggering to you, then please avoid reading. I apologise for the long A/N but it was necessary.

I'd like to give special thanks to one of my lovely Beta's "Sandra-Sempra" for beta-ing this for me and pushing me to become the best I can be. You're amazing!

Without further adew, all aboard the GiTG express to a destination unknown. If you like my story I would love to know and the best way to do that is to leave a review (if you find it worthy) or come say hello (as stated above) on my FB or Tumblr ;)

GiTG X

Hermione gripped the side of her stomach where muscles spasm in her diaphragm. The stabbing pain below her rib cage was so intense she wasn't sure if she lacked fitness, or had simply overexerted herself trying to get back to their hideout in shock of her discovery. She had been gathering intel in Diagon Alley when the title of the Daily Prophet caught her eye.

Proclamation.

Minister for Magic Decree No.1

Dolores Jane Umbridge hereby declares "An Order to Kill."

The Kill Order is effective immediately, in which, all witches and wizards are required to help purge the community of dirty blood. This includes, but is not limited to: muggleborns and half-breeds. If in doubt, please contact the head of "Muggleborn and Half-breed Affairs Office" as headed by Rabastan Lestrange. All deaths must be accounted for — viable proof is needed. One-hundred galleons will be funded, per-body, as a reward for your help towards purifying the community. In an act of good faith, if you require hunting gear, you may collect it from the Hunting for Sport Commissions Office as headed by Marcus Flint.

All will be subject to raids in order to provide proof of heritage and be subject to undergoing questioning under Veritaserum. Further methods may be used and will not be opposed by order of the Minister for Magic. Anyone who refuses, flees or hides fugitives, shall be held in contempt until either a trial is arranged or death be made imminent by order of the Wizengamot or higher.

Your cooperation in this matter is of the utmost importance —

Dolores Jane Umbridge, Minister for Magic

Hermione clutches the Prophet with a grip so tight the pages ripple, scrunching under the force of it. She's squeezing so firmly her knuckles are white and the fist she's formed around it gives her the urge to punch anything, everything or anyone within reach that dares to speak to her. Yeah, they don't know yet, but she needs time to process it. Time to formulate a plan to figure out what to do next or how to put a stop to this. At first, their only problem was Voldemort winning the war. Now that he's appointed Umbridge as Minister for Magic, well... Shit's just become a whole lot more complicated — especially for her.

Walking through the disillusionment charm hiding their camp, Hermione storms directly past the welcoming, crackling campfire - ignoring the roaring laughter exploding from her friends surrounding it. It bothers her they can have these airy, untroubled moments, acting like this is how things are supposed to be. What pisses her off even more is how they credulously disregard the reality of the truth without a single care while she suffers, carrying the weight of the past and future responsibilities on her shoulders like a second skin. Hermione suppresses a shiver at the thought while her hands slide up her arms, fingers curling over her elbows, working to warm the chills running through her soul. She resents her friends and her body betrays her mind because she should know better. Is this what she's really become? An uptight war heroine incapable of having fun? Hermione scrunches her face in disgust while she mentally scolds herself for being jealous of her peers social skills and coping abilities. They were clearly far more advanced than her own, or they've just gotten better at hiding their woes.

Veering straight into the tent she shares with Ginny, she's grateful to have their accommodation to herself for the moment. Although serenity won't last long, considering she just waltzed right past everyone without so much as a hello, clinging to a newspaper with a murderous glint in her eyes.

Hermione kicks off her shoes, flicking her wand to seal the tent from anyone wanting to enter. They never respect her need for reflection, so there's no doubt she won't be alone with her thoughts long - no matter how destructive they are - getting the peace and quiet to brew such ideas is impossible.

Not destructive towards her, no. Destructive towards Voldemort for winning the fucking war and appointing Umbridge the fucking Minister. Destructive of the fact she knows what this means of her little freedom. As if she doesn't already feel leashed and sheltered, now she's going to have to fight her friends just to go on missions. Hermione is not the kind of girl to sit around waiting for her friends to be killed. She wants to be there alongside her friends, fighting for their freedom. If her friends are going to die, she wants to die trying to save them. She wants to be scarred like her friends are - as stupid as it sounds - so their friendships are bound by more than mere distant memories and fragments of a derailed past. Each unique friendship will be deeply ingrained; their battles and triumphs at the core of it all. She may be jealous of their carefree approach to life and resent them for that fact, but one thing for certain is she will do anything for her friends. Going against the grain of a stereotypical Gryffindor, she'll even kill to keep them safe.

That is, if they live to see the future. Judging by the announcement in the Daily Prophet sprawled open in front of her, with that witch smirking mercilessly, a satisfied gleam in her eyes, the world they once knew has become a whole lot more dangerous and sick. Hermione is about to explode out of frustration.

Staring at the heading of the new declaration, darting between the article to the face of her ex Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and back, causes her face to burn with rage as she combs the fine print, using her fingers as a guide to read it. Grunting loudly in exasperation before picking up the newspaper and throwing it to the floor, its pages separate, drifting in different directions around the "lounge room" of her tent.

"Hermione," says Ron through the fabric of the tent door.

"Go away," shouts Hermione forcefully, not in the mood to give him the emotional support he's so desperate for.

"Come on, just let me in. Talk to me about whatever it is that's got you all stroppy." There is desperation in his tone. The last thing he wants is to be pushed further away from her when he's trying so hard to give her what he thinks she wants. What he doesn't realize is, he fails to see what she needs.

"I'm not stroppy, Ronald. I just need some time to think in peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask for?"

Ron resists, refusing to be pushed away again.

"I won't go away until you let me in."

"You'll have to eat eventually," shes states point blank.

"Come on, Mione, I'm supposed to be your boyfriend. Let me in!" He doesn't want to start an argument, and if he's honest with himself he's terrified of losing her… He just wants her to include him and trust him more.

Hermione huffs in exasperation. She wasn't aware of the time they became a couple, but they'd been sleeping together since they lost the war. Somewhere in between the fallout, they became an item without making it official. Perhaps it's a coping mechanism: they both needed someone, or something, and used each other to fill the void. No. She had cared in the past but things have changed. She doesn't doubt what he feels for her is genuine, despite her being so hard to love. If she's honest with herself, the last thing she wants to entertain is falling in love and maintaining a relationship. All they are trying to do is survive, and Hermione's priority is finding a way to destroy Voldemort and keep her friends safe. She values this more than her own self-preservation. Why would she feel worthy of giving love when she struggles with the notion of taking it.

Hermione waves her wand gratingly, allowing him to enter the tent. She can't stand his grovelling. He walks in nervously only to discover the Prophet strewn across the floor. Stumbling back, he hesitantly reaches down, snatching its pages abruptly with uncertainty. His eyes widen with horror as he scans the bold print on the front page.

"Bloody Hell, you've got to be kidding me!" screeches Ron, hands shaking in anger.

Hermione feels guilty for not wanting to confide in him, but she isn't in the mood to explain. Their friendship has grown sour since they started sleeping together; if it's because of him or just her she doesn't know, but regardless, she finds herself being more short with him, frustrated by him being around. Looking into his eyes, she sees her childhood crush staring back at her. In her heart she feels nothing but convenience and resentment. She doesn't blame him for anything, but she resents him for caring about her, and wanting more from her than she's ever prepared to give.

Before Hermione can respond, Harry and Ginny enter the tent. Evidence of her turbulent behaviour is obvious in her silence.

"Hermione, what happened out there?" asks Harry with concern. His forehead wrinkles to form worry lines while his eyes appear to convey questions of their own in a simple glance. They are somewhat kindred spirits, Harry and Hermione. He understands her far better than Ron does. With her obvious silence he understands they need to talk - alone.

Harry nods subtly in recognition to Hermione before addressing the others.

"Ron, Ginny… Can you give us a minute?"

Ginny agrees with disappointment, hating the fact she is being asked to leave. Ron glares at his mate, wondering why he can't get his own girlfriend to talk to him, but is able to open up to Harry with ease. He's made it obvious to Hermione on several occasions their friendship bothers him, knowing he has no right to dictate who she can and can't be friends with.

Especially since they'd been friends for so long before he caught feelings for her, but it doesn't make it any easier. He can't help it. Ron can feel her trying to pull away, and it only makes him want to cling to her all the more. Love, desperation…it all makes you do crazy things. He hesitantly leaves, following Ginny back towards the fire.

Harry begins pacing around the tent.

"I don't know why you won't talk to him about it and it's none of my business, but you can't string him along, Hermione."

Great. She thinks to herself. Just what I need right now, a lecture. Hermione bites her lip for a moment as if to indicate she is thinking carefully about her response, but it's that and a combination of her nerves at the topic of conversation.

"I'm not trying to, Harry. Things have just gotten out of hand."

"He needs to know the truth. Doesn't he deserve that much?"

She sighs at the realisation.

"He does. I-I thought I'd been making it obvious… I don't want to hurt him, Harry."

Harry stops in front of her, turning to sit down beside her.

"What you're doing to him now is hurting him, Hermione. In case you haven't noticed, your current approach isn't working."

Turning towards him, Hermione admits it. "You're right… I know. I'll think of something - I promise… In the meantime, we have bigger problems, Harry."

His eyes give Hermione a flash of concern. Motioning with his hands for her to continue, she recounts how she came in possession of the Daily Prophet before pointing to the front page. With shaky hands, Harry leans forward, picking it up to read its crinkled pages. His eyes skim the heading immediately before he reacts, his fists balling up around the now crumpled paper at the news.

"Fuck. Is this real?" questions Harry. "Umbridge for Minister for Magic," he mutters in disbelief.

"It's true. Read the article." The clear, harsh tone of her voice is an obvious indicator there's more to this madness.

Harry nods, treating the prophet as though it's pages are about to combust. As soon as he finishes, his face contorts into one of anger, shock and confusion.

"They - She can't be serious?"

Hermione stands abruptly, letting the fire inside her burn in fierce flames. The lioness in her chest is enraged; a caged creature incandescent with heat. The loyal beast rising in anger sparked a blaze of fury in her, and her mind works quickly to respond.

"It is, Harry. I apparated to the Ministry and lingered long enough to see Death Eaters planning, preparing… It looks like this has been on the cards for some time. They have access to documents - everything they need is there. We need to make it harder for them and we need to act now."

Harry stands, leveling with her.

"Hermione, this changes everything," he argues. His voice is full of emotion but he does his best to control it. "I can't just send people out unprepared - to die. We need to gather more intel. If everyone's lives are at risk, we need to plan this better than ever before."

She reaches for his arm as he begins to pace; the action stops him instantly.

"Purebloods and half-bloods are okay, but I wouldn't trust it for one second if they came across a blood-traitor such as Ron. They won't hesitate to kill him."

"So what do you propose? A bloody suicide mission? I can't sacrifice people, Hermione. We've lost so many already. I won't do that."

"Not a suicide mission, no."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Let's break into the Ministry and destroy whatever documents they have - tonight."

"That won't stop the Kill Order."

"No, it won't. But it can stall them. By destroying the paper trail, we can have one up on them; snoop around. It's the best plan we have. We can blow it up."

"Blow up the Ministry?" He questions her, looking perplexed, obviously unsure if she really means it.

"Yes," deadpans Hermione.

"You're serious aren't you?"

"I am."

"Fine. Draft up some maps of the Ministry. I'll prepare a team."

"Okay," agrees Hermione, eager to start on the maps. Before they exit the tent Harry stops her.

"Hermione."

He said her name with caution, and she knows straight away what he's about to say. She stops, but doesn't turn to face him. "What?"

"You know I can't let you come, right?" Harry sounds as though he is about to try and negotiate some sort of deal. His confidence is surprising, considering their history. He's bonkers if he thinks she'll listen.

"Excuse me?"

"You're muggleborn, Hermione. I can't risk you."

At that, Hermione spins around, flustered and ready to fight him with words. There is no way she's staying behind; over her dead body.

"Why the hell not? Everyone else is a risk too."

"That's different."

"No it isn't, Harry! It's exactly the same!"

"You are a direct target now! It's bad enough you're known as my friend, but now there's a fucking Kill Order, Hermione. I can't even imagine the kind of reward offered for your death. I can't lose you."

"I can't lose you ! You can't expect me to sit and wait around to see who comes back! I won't do that, I refuse! There's still a target on your back, Harry. On anyone from the resistance. You need me."

"I need you alive! You're staying. I'm sorry, but that's final."

She's angry and he knows it. Harry reaches out in a desperate attempt to comfort her, but she flinches in retaliation. Her eyes wild with hostility, it's obvious she feels betrayed by his decision to make her stay.

Hermione swipes his hand away. "Don't."

"Hermione, don -"

"Leave ! Harry. Make your damn plans. I'll make the maps."

Harry remains in her personal space, clearly not taking her hint to leave. Scoffing, Hermione storms past him with the ambition of a Slytherin, looking as though she was trying to tear the whole tent down on her way out due to the way the flaps pull open, but she doesn't care. Behind her she hears Harry mutter a thank you without an ounce of suspicion in his voice. Her lips curl into a mischievous smirk as she walks away to draw up his maps and make plans of her own.

Hermione's chest heaves as she huffs in exasperation. Stamping her feet in irritation, she makes her way to the entrance, tugging open the fabric door of the tent dramatically to signal the end of the conversation as she exits. While approaching the portable shelter used for planning tactics and execution, Hermione is interrupted by Ginny's sass, who appears to be lecturing Ron on a rather sensitive matter. Curiosity getting the better of her, she stays hidden in the shadows to listen.

"You have an emotional range of a teaspoon, even as an adult. Unless its food, sex or war related, you're not all that cluey on the needs of a witch, are you?" rebukes Ginny.

Hermione slaps a hand to her face to suppress the giggle that threatens to spill from her lips.

"What? Are you saying I need to be more emotional?" He asks, obviously confused by what his sister has said.

"Not exactly," mutters Ginny, appearing to prepare giving him a lecture.

"You demand more from her than you're prepared to give."

Hermione doesn't like the sound of where this is going. If Ron isn't already hurting from her, his sister is about to.

Ginny continues on a rant, telling Ron exactly how it is.

"It's draining her. Look, Ron. Whatever you think you and Hermione have can't be further from the truth - it's the convenience of war, that's all. You're both damaged. You feel comfortable together so you useeach other. It's a perfectly normal habit, considering what's happened."

Hermione's eyes are wide in shock at how real Ginny is being with him. Of course she is, without tact, being truthful… That is the way she is.

Ginny's honesty has never been a trait Ron enjoyed. Her ability to cut through bullshit and tell it like it is leaves him feeling exposed and defensive. His body stiffens, showing evidence he's taking offense.

"It's not convenience!"

"Sure it isn't."

"That's what I just said. I've loved her for ages. It just took me a while to realise it," he confesses.

Hermione bites her bottom lip, a nervous trait she has developed. She watches on, waiting for Ron to explode or Ginny to lose it, either way, someone is about to give.

Ginny rolls her eyes in frustration. She is younger than her brother, and clearly wiser.

"Love doesn't exist in times like this, Ron. Love is a weakness no one can afford to have. A harsh reality but, it's the truth."

"That's not true. You and Harry love each other."

Ginny displays a sarcastic twisted smirk as if deep in thought. Hermione knows Ginny thinks Harry doesn't love her. She believes if he did, he'd be with her no matter what. Hermione knows the truth, though. Harry loves Ginny more than anyone; she is his ultimate weakness. He's sacrificed being with her to protect her out of love.

Ginny is defiant in her denial of what she refuses to see as the truth. Ron's statement is a harsh reminder of the reality she's living. It's no dirty secret she's seeing Harry behind the scenes, but she can't let him go. She chooses to suffer, and is tormented by a fantasy she so desperately desires. Her face is as hard as stone, internally her heart is shattered - repairable only by the reciprocation of the love she has for the chosen one. Pushing aside her turmoil, Ginny begs to differ.

"No, you've got it wrong. I take what I can get from him, but Harry can't have any more weaknesses. He's made that clear."

"Yet you are doing everything couples do? That makes no sense."

"It's not supposed to make sense. It just is," shouts Ginny, obviously upset by the sudden focus of the conversation now being on herself and Harry. "I don't have expectations, but I do have needs, as does Harry."

"Ew! I don't want to know that!" Scoffs Ron with distaste.

Hermione shakes her head. He's always been a prat about his sister dating or kissing anyone. It comes as no surprise to her that he's disturbed by their conversation.

"When did you become so cold-hearted?" He asks, with a soft look as though he's genuinely wanting to know.

Hermione can tell by the way Ginny's eyes begin to water that she's trying to be strong. It's obvious she's holding back her emotions, despite spilling her honest thoughts on the subject.

Staring Ron directly in the eyes her voice cracks, breaking with the raw sting of her words. Her gaze shifts from him to the floor in defeat of revealing her vulnerabilities to him. Ginny stands in contumaciously, her frailty disguised by vacant body language, and she pauses with a stoic disposition. Turning to Ron, she divulges the truth as she see's it.

"When I realised the world I grew up in no longer existed. When Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts and killed my brother, Tonks, Remus and everyone else I've known or cared about. When Harry decided to reject me out of fear for my life to be noble."

"I get what you're saying, I just can't be like that," admits Ron while extending his hand to her arm, placing it above her elbow to comfort her. "I can't sacrifice being with her. I love her."

Ginny's face hardens, clearly not considering the consequences of what she's about to say. Exhaling a deep breath, her candour shows lack of regret as she dispassionately expresses resentment of her and her brother's situation.

"Then it's going to hurt when she breaks your heart."

"Do you think she would really do that? She cared. In Hogwarts she really cared."

"Hogwarts days are gone, Ron. The war has affected us all. She did care. But everything's changed now. School crushes die hard. Hermione's too focused on setting the Wizarding world right to be entertaining the notion of love, let alone fall in it. She's far from foolish. I'm sorry, Ron. I just see the shades of grey. If you know her as well as you think you do, open your eyes and see the bigger picture."

The guilt is infecting Hermione like an incurable disease. Hearing him say that, seeing his face as he said it… hurt. But it isn't the kind of hurt you feel when you realise you are wrong and desperate to try make things right. It's the kind of guilt you feel for having no control over robbing someone of something very important to them. In this case she's stolen his heart, and she doesn't really know how to give it back.

Ron looks like he's having a mental war within himself. Hanging his head low, his sister's words burrow deep enough into his skin, and Hermione can almost see the moment he feels the rawness of the burn. He looks like he's been singed in the worst of ways, the impact from the toxicity of Ginny's truths consume him, piercing him deeply.

Hermione feels clueless as to what to do next. She's always been difficult, but she has her reasons. Having her fair share of battles and not being understood is pretty much the center of them.

Questioning why things have to be so complicated, Hermione wishes she was back at Hogwarts. Back then they experienced a lot of things kids shouldn't go through, but they always came out on top. That is, until Voldemort won. Lately, it's been a battle up shit creek with no paddle. Now they are drowning in a river of their own blood; their days are numbered as Death himself drifts afloat, waiting patiently to take them all.

Hermione hears Ron's honesty play in her mind. Harry is right. She has to be truthful with him. After all, they are first and foremost best friends. Ron doesn't need a reason to hate her, so she shouldn't give him one. It'll be hard, telling him the truth, but at the moment he's going to have to wait. They have more pressing matters on their hands. Just because Harry says she can't go on the mission doesn't mean she won't; he's a fool for thinking he can trust her to stay behind. Despite his wishes, Hermione is going to destroy the Ministry tonight. She will deliver the maps to Harry and stay long enough to suss out his plan, offer ideas, play the supportive friend. Any foe who gets in her way will be damned if they do because she is in the mood to let off a little steam.

Maybe her friends aren't safe with her too?

What they don't know won't hurt them. She'll be as stealthy as they come and back by the time they've accomplished the task. Besides, it'll benefit everyone having her as an extra pair of eyes on the lookout for anything useful to them. If she comes across anything, then she'll come clean and confess she was there. Until such a time arises, she'll stay under the radar and pretend to be pissed off for staying, even though she is most definitely coming along.

Besides, what harm can come from an early attack at the heart of the chaos? It's a risk she's willing to take. Little does she realise with risks, comes consequences. One would think this out of character for Hermione. If she is honest with herself, it is, but she's Gryffindor at heart and they are known to be clouded, reacting emotionally and irrationally when triggered.

You don't win wars against evil by playing by the rules in the devil's playground. Nothing is going to be easy, but everything she does is for a purpose. Tonight, she's going to release some pent up frustration - brewed by hate and anger - at the Ministry. The real war begins now.