Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. The Harry Potter universe belongs only to J.K. Rowling (the best author ever). Enjoy!

Harry stood on the open grounds of a dismembered Hogwarts, facing a snake-like Voldemort, an openly weeping gash running down his left cheek and a murderous expression in his bright green eyes. It had only been three weeks since the last attack on Hogwarts, which had left the seemingly invincible school in shambles. Albus Dumbledore was dead, and the disappearance of Snape and Draco Malfoy, neither of which were at the battle as far as Harry could tell, left many questioning Dumbledore's plans for the final battle. Some members of the Order thought they should take Harry into hiding and attempt to prepare him through trainging. Others thought Harry should stay at Hogwarts to be a symbol of hope to the remaining students, but train under the Order's watchful eye. Harry chose to do what he thought was best, and began training with Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the D.A. However, nothing could have prepared them for the second attack that occurred so quickly after losing their headmaster that they had no time to re-group.

Harry had been dueling with Voldemort for what seemed like hours but could have only been several minutes, and felt his heart pang. He was sweaty, weary, and chilled to the bone. All around the field, members of the Order and Death Eaters, and students alike were still brutally fighting and dying. The bodies of students, teachers, and Death Eaters alike littered the grounds. Hagrid's hut was burning, the smoke creating a thick stench throughout the air. Fang was circling the hut, barking madly for Hagrid who had dashed in to receive his precious pink 'umbrella.' Two Death Eaters waited for Hagrid to reappear just outside the threshold, wands raised. They quickly grew annoyed with Fang's insistent barking and quickly shut him up with a stunner spell. In the midst of the war to his left lay a prone Ron, not dead, but out for the count, with an attentive Neville trying to rouse him into some type of action, but "Enervate" was doing the trick. Tonks and Remus were back-to-back, taking on six Death Eaters. On his right, he knew Hermione was still trying to hold her own, but she was tiring. More and more bloody wounds were appearing on her body; each one was made starkly apparent by the contrast of her white button-down shirt she was wearing. Unfortunately for her, her opponent did not seem to be slowing. It took all of her strength to keep casting defensive spell after defensive spell.

Harry's heart ached. He realized the Dark side was beginning to win. The ones who remained loyal to Dumbledore simply didn't have the power (in numbers or magic) to defeat the continuing arrival of new Death Eaters. 'I have to beat him,' Harry thoughtThere was no other way. With new determination, Harry faced him and threw a curse that quickly ended Voldemort's maniacal laughter.

"Protego!" Harry screamed, aiming his wand directly for Voldemort's snake-like face!

Voldemort, however, blocked the curse with ease and tossed back one of his own in a mocking drawl "Expelliarmus." With a sick pop, Harry's wand went shooting through the air into Voldemort's waiting palm. The laughter was back.

Harry could not believe it. He had been done in by a spell they had learned in second year, and there was nothing he could do about it. He tried to hold onto his wand as tightly as possible, but not even steel clamps could have prevented his wand from being taken. Voldemort simply put too much power behind all of his spells. It left a sick feeling in Harry's stomach.

"Harry!" Hermione screeched his name. Harry spared her quick glance and realized that she had somehow defeated the Death Eater she had been dueling since he had last checked on her and had been witnessing their fight.

He took in the look of horror, quickly replaced by determination when she threw her own spell… directly at Voldemort. It took him by surprise. It had been like an unspoken rule that Harry and himself would duel only with each other, and without the interference of either party. With a sick 'pop' of its own, Voldemort's, as well as Harry's, wand found its way into Hermione's hand. He watched as she quickly threw Harry his wand, and then they both faced him with determined eyes and renewed strength, presenting a united front that he found quite annoying.

With a feral snarl, Voldmort said, "You foolish little mud-blood." Then with a wave of his hand, he said almost quietly and with a hint of amusement, "Punceamo." Hermione felt like she had been punched in the chest, directly over her heart. And it hurt! Not only was the wandless punch powerful in its own right, the feel of glass puncturing her skin hurt a whole lot worse. The force of blow knocked her back in the air about three feet, and it was then she realized that the broken glass sticking into her chest was her now broken time-turner.

"Hermione!" Harry was startled. There was a gold mist sprinkling the wind left in her wake as she was flung back. He saw her look go from pain to startled realization.

She looked at him with wide eyes and started to shout his name, attempting to explain before it was too late, "Ha---," but with the sound like someone exhaling loudly, Hermione blinked out of existence.

Harry screamed her name again, and then turned to Voldemort with hatred and accusation raging in his eyes. "What did you do?" Harry raised his wand at Voldemort, who seemed to be amused at Harry's anger.

"That," Voldemort chuckled, "was even better than I predicted!" Voldemort laughed again. How Harry hated that laugh!