Alas, here we are. We have finally reached the end. In all honesty, I could have posted this a few days ago, but I wanted to make certain it was all in order as there is a LOT going on here. It probably could have been broken into two chapters, but I did not wish to interrupt the flow. Which I am actually doing right now, so without further adieu ... Enjoy!

Oh yeah, a portion of the dialogue was taken directly from the works of J K Rowling's The Deathly Hallows. Not mine, I just borrowed it. Okay, no more digressions ... Enjoy!

- Chapter Seventeen-

The Fate of Destiny

Killian, Altimus and Wraith watched from a balcony high upon Hogwarts' castle walls. Having made their way to the secluded area after the initial attack reached its interlude, the trio now waited with impatience as the survivors regrouped and organized their losses. Killian knew it was coming. He knew from the moment he and Harry parted ways. He knew …

"Killian …" came an unwelcomed voice from behind.

"What are you doing here?" Killian asked, refusing to even turn as he addressed the individuals whom had appeared from the darkness.

"Our duty."

Liam Buckley and Aeris Baethen calmly stepped into the light, with Liam holding his bowler cap in his deep purple gloved hand and tapping it gently against his walking stick as he walked along.

"Of course," Killian said. "Watchers ever watching, never getting involved."

"When the time necessitates action," Liam corrected, "we do as we must."

"When the time necessitates?" Killian shouted, spinning on the Watchers with glaring eyes. "Are you not seeing this?"

"This is not our fight?" Aeris explained.

"Then what is?" Killian asked as his emotions began to rise. "What is the point to it? What is the point to any of it?"

Neither Liam nor Aeris answered, creating an uneasy silence in the air before Altimus spoke up.

"Liam," he greeted. "Aeris."

"Hello Altimus," Aeris greeted in return. "We had heard you and Wraith had gone rogue. Imagine our surprise in finding you both here."

"Got tired of watching, I guess," Altimus said with a coy smirk.

"So it seems," Aeris returned with an oddly accepting smile; an offering that was not reciprocated by Wraith.

"How is the little one," Altimus asked. "Keeping you up nights?"

"He is quite well, thank you," Aeris answered with a warm, yet stoic tone. "But yes … Often."

"Well, you look like you've recovered well," Altimus offered. "Figure and all."

"Altimus!" Wraith chastised immediately.

"What?" Altimus asked, seemingly dumbfounded. "It was a compliment. Is that not a compliment?" he bumbled on, looking around for some form of advocacy. "Was meant to be."

After a suitable passage of time to allow Altimus a maximum lack of comfortability, Liam cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"If we are quite finished with the pleasantries, I believe—" he began, but Killian would have none of it.

"Why are you here?" Killian reiterated tersely.

After taking a breath and adjusting his round wired glasses, Liam's expression looked almost sympathetic. "We've come to take you home," he answered. "All of you," he added with a gesture towards Altimus and Wraith.

"You cannot be serious," Killian said, finding it almost darkly humorous Liam would even suggest such a thing.

"Killian, you belong to a family of the Twenty-eight," Liam argued. "You have a responsibility to—"

"My family is dead!" Killian argued in return. "And the man responsible for it is out there! I have but one responsibility, and I will see it through."

"Or die trying?" Aeris offered.

"Would you do any different were it Liam who lay slaughtered by Tanzar's hand?" Killian asked with fiery undertones. "Or Aeris?" he asked of Liam. "Or your children? Tell me you would not hunt him down until your last breath. Tell me that … And I will call you a liar."

Liam went to respond, but was silenced when Aeris gently raised her hand to him.

"It's time to go," she said simply.

"Surely, you're not saying—" Liam attempted to reason.

"Liam," Aeris insisted, now with a raised eyebrow. "It is time to go."

"So it appears," Liam agreed, reluctantly relenting his position. "You are starting to sound uncomfortably similar to Phineas. Far too much admiration for rebellious behavior."

"Be that as it may," Aeris said. "This is his choice, not ours."

"In the end, yes," Liam agreed, with almost as much reluctance as before. "The offer still stands for the two of you," he added with a nod to Wraith and Altimus. "Arrangements can be made."

"I stand with Killian," Wraith asserted without hesitation.

"Yeah, and me and Wraith here got a pact," Altimus added.

"We do not have a pact," Wraith corrected.

"Well, not so much a pact as an agreement of a sort," Altimus clarified.

"We do not have an agreement," Wraith corrected further.

"Okay, yeah," Altimus conceded. "But we've been traveling together for a while now, haven't we?"

"We have," Wraith finally conceded.

"There you are … So, I'll be staying too then, I guess is … uh … where I was going with that," Altimus informed Liam and Aeris.

"If that is your decision," Liam said, now inspecting his bowler cap before placing it atop his head at a slight angle. "I mean, that is what we are doing now, am I right?" he asked of Aeris. "Everyone is simply making their own choices? Rules and laws be damned?"

Aeris simply smiled. Then, with a nod of departure, Aeris and Liam began back towards the shadows from whence they came. Pausing for a moment, Liam turned back and addressed Killian directly.

"Regardless of my personal beliefs regarding all of this," he said with a vicarious gesture to their surroundings, "I do hope this night finds you victorious. What happened to your family … It was wrong. And as such, it needs to be corrected. However, your actions have had grave consequences. You are marked, as I am certain you must already know. If you choose this path, we cannot protect you."

Again, there was silence. It was a silence that offered an answer no words could have conveyed any clearer. And with it, Liam and Aeris vanished in a wisp of mist amidst the darkness leaving Killian, Wraith, and Altimus starring into the vacant space the pair of Watchers had only just occupied.

Before any of them had an opportunity to properly absorb the moment, however, a booming sound emanated from Hogwarts's grounds.

"Is it time already?" Altimus asked as the trio looked over the balcony.

Far down below, the area began to fill with individuals garbed in black like a swarm of locust encroaching upon a lush open field, ready to reap upon it a devastation of mortal proportions. Amidst the sea of Death Eaters, Snatchers, and other such Dark wizards of varying sorts, Hagrid trudged along, carrying with him the moment of reality Killian knew to be inevitable. Even so, now that it had occurred, he struggled to accept it.

"Pathetic," Wraith cursed under her breath as they looked down upon the masses marching triumphantly towards the courtyard.

Altimus had no words to offer. Although standing defiantly before the Dark Lord was not something he had particularly wished for, another ruckus with a pack of Death Eaters was a fight he had looked forward to with eager anticipation.

Killian simply stared on, eyeing the lifeless body Hagrid had cradled within his arms. That was the moment. He needed to see it. It would not be real until he saw it with his own eyes. Harry was gone. It was over.

For several minutes, Killian was silent, lost in thought as he watched the scene unfold below. Voldemort was giving a magnificent speech about the new world of wizardry that was being bestowed upon the grateful masses. The words, however, failed to reach Killian's ears. His focus was elsewhere. His focus was on the body that lay still in the cold grass. Surrounded by enemies … Potter … Surrounded by those who wished him dead … By those who, after years of failures, finally saw their wish fulfilled.

Adding to the insult, Killian saw a familiar face standing mere inches away from Harry's body. Smiling, gloating, and enveloped in the crowd of Death Eaters who felt far too proud of themselves at the moment … Tanzar.

As Voldemort had promised, Killian's prey was on the battlefield. But it was a battlefield no longer. There would be no vengeance this night. Upon everything else that had happened, this tore at Killian with a frustration that knew no equal. Harry had fallen and Tanzar still lived. The world had turned upside down.

Disgusted by the sight, Killian turned away from the edge of the balcony just as Voldemort set the sorting hat aflame atop Neville's head. Seconds later the ground began to rumble. Whirling back and scanning the area, Killian saw a small giant, if that even made sense, turn the corner of the castle and charge at the horde of Dark wizards. The oddity was met head on by Voldemort's giants, and chaos began to reign free.

In the distance, hundreds of wizards and witches appeared from nowhere as arrows poured from the sky, scattering the bewildered Death Eaters. Centaurs, thermals, giants … A new battle was ensuing.

"He lives!" Wraith exclaimed, her eyes fixed on the patch of grass where Harry had lain.

As Killian looked on, a devilish grin appearing on his face. "Potter ..." he said to himself. "... Bloody brilliant."

"So it's on, then?" Altimus asked with vigor as he flexed and stretched out his arms.

Wraith drew her bow to the ready. "Damn right, it's on."

The three made their way inside Hogwarts and toward the stairs leading to the foyer. As soon as they entered the castle, they saw that the battle had already spilled inside. Killian climbed up upon the banister to see what was taking place beneath them. From there, he saw Adrian Pucey on the stairs a floor below with his hand around her throat ...

With a reaction that required no forethought, Killian blasted Pucey with an explosive curse, sending him careening to the foyer floor. He then raced down the stairs as Wraith and Altimus went on to join in the fray below.

Her name escaped his lips as he braced her by the shoulders while Hermione struggled against his grip, looking upon him with an odd mixture of fear and curiosity.

"You? …" she said at last as her eyes locked with Killian's.

Her eyes … Her beautiful eyes. It had been so long, he had nearly forgotten. Just as Killian's emotions were ready to overtake his consciousness, he saw that Pucey had recovered and was making his way back up the stairs. In the same instant, Hermione went limp in his arms. Carefully, he moved her into the window alcove along the stairs.

"Stay here," Killian said softly as he ran his hand across her cheek. "You'll be safe."

Every ounce of him begged to stay with her, to take her and flee. But he knew such a course was not an option. With a deep breath, he laid his eyes upon his flower one last time before turning away and advancing on Pucey.

"Welcome back, Finn," Pucey chided as the two of them squared off. "You'll not catch me off guard again. I've been waiting for this."

"I have grown far beyond you, Pucey," Killian warned.

"We'll see how good you are," Pucey fired back as he drew his wand on former housemate.

Killian waved off Pucey's first attack and countered with a Stun Jinx. Although Pucey was able to raise a Shielding Charm, the force of the attack succeeded in knocking him down the stairs once again, crashing into the foyer's unforgiving stone floor.

"Aguamenti!" Pucey cast as he sprang to his feet, causing a jet of water to erupt towards Killian with striking velocity.

Killian raised his staff and a torrent of wind arose, redirecting the water and saturating Pucey, who slipped and fell to the floor.

"Firmus glacies!" Killian commanded. The water began to freeze until Pucey was entombed in a solid block of ice. "Confringo!" Killian followed up, obliterating the ice and forcing Pucey into the wall beyond, his face lacerated and bleeding profusely from the sharpened bits of frozen water.

Spoken Word … Such form actually offered an advantage to the Slytherin turned Death Eater, allowing a fraction of a second to recognize and counter the attack. But Killian was not concerned with such details. As it was, he did not even need to use Spoken Word for against Pucey, he wanted to use it. He wanted Pucey to know exactly what was coming, daring him to stop it. Daring him, and watching him fail.

The look of angered arrogance that Pucey had carried only moments before was now gone. In its place was a defeated expression of weakness as he slumped to the ground with his back pressed firmly to the wall. He raised his wand and fired off a weak attack as Killian closed in upon him, but Killian waved it off with no more effort than pushing smoke through the air.

"You really think you're going to survive this, Finn?" Pucey asked with as much disdain as he could summon. "You're going to die! All of you!"

Killian continued to advance with his staff drawn upon Pucey.

"So, what now?" the broken former student went on, smirking as a trickle of blood now escaped his lips. "Are you going to kill me? Is that it?"

"You were dead the moment you placed your hands upon her," Killian assured with a cold and emotionless calm.

With those words, Pucey was thrust straight up into the air, his zenith nearly reaching the foyer's vaulted ceiling before he went into a free fall, smashing into the stone floor with a bone crushing impact. Killian stood over his victim for a moment as his anger swelled within him. In the next instant, he was blasted from his feet by an impact on the wall that missed him by mere inches.

Immediately regaining his composure, Killian leapt to his feet and whirled around to face the adversary who had just blind-sided him.

"Coward!" he shouted as he saw Tanzar standing across the foyer with his wand drawn to the ready.

"Hello, Hunter," Tanzar greeted with an arrogant sneer. "Looking for someone?" He then turned and fled down a corridor leading away from the foyer.

Killian immediately gave chase, but was cut off by several Death Eaters. Before Killian could engage this new threat, Altimus blasted his way into the battle.

"Go on, brother!" he assured. "We've got this!"

Killian hesitated a moment as one of the Death Eaters threw a curse that missed Altimus by a hair. As he went to aid Altimus, Wraith leapt into the duel, firing explosive curses from her bow with deadly precision.

"Go!" she shouted to Killian.

Burying his burning desire to join his allies, Killian conceded and took off down the corridor. Amidst the deafening noise of the battle that raged within the castle, he thought he heard his name being cried out, but dismissed it. Tanzar … All he could see was Tanzar.

. . .

No! She could not let him get away! She had to catch him!

Hermione raced down the stairs and pursued Killian along the corridor that snaked away from the foyer. As she went on, she was met head on by several Death Eaters … Former students … She recognized them. It mattered not, as Hermione dispatched them with relative ease. Passion and control … It was all coming back.

Frustrated with the delay, she ran on, searching for signs of Killian and Tanzar. It was nearly impossible to identify anyone amidst the fracas. But he had to be there. He had to be somewhere. It could not be too late.

. . .

Further up the corridor, Tanzar reached a dead end. Having cornered his prey, Killian squared up as Tanzar looked around in vain for another avenue of retreat.

"There's nowhere to go from here," Killian said. "No place to hide."

"Hide?" Tanzar scoffed as he and Killian began to circle one another. "Do you really believe I was running from you? How disappointing. I would have thought you'd learned better by now. Always be aware of your environment. Didn't your mentor teach you that?"

Killian then realized that in circling, he was now the one pinned in the dead end of the corridor. Unfortunately, the realization came too late as Tanzar reared back and fired a powerful curse that Killian's Defensive Shield could barely absorb, tossing him into the wall alongside the large stained glass window that decorated the corridor.

"You brought this on yourself, boy," Tanzar goaded. "I had nothing more than a simple request. But you … You had to take it all for yourself, didn't you?" Killian rolled to his stomach and weakly attempted to push himself up, only to be hit with another explosive curse. "Arrogant, cocky little whelp," Tanzar went on. "Born and bred under the protection of wealth and political favor. My family had a name too! My grandfather was a great sorcerer!"

"We all come from somewhere," Killian said, painfully forcing himself to his feet. "Some are born, some are made ... Pity ... Are you not proud of your creation?" he added with his arms out in display.

Tanzar unleashed upon Killian once again. Weakened, Killian was able to stave off the attack only momentarily before being thrust into the wall once again, pressed with a crushing force that pulled him from the ground and restricted his breathing.

"My family's name will rise again," Tanzar promised as he moved in upon Killian. "Which is more than I can say for yours," he added, eyeing Killian with a burning glare. "Your name will be wiped from history after this night. And you … You wish to speak of pity? The pity is that this all could have been avoided. They could all still be here. Your parents, your sister … Their blood is on your hands!"

Tanzar's words struck a nerve in Killian. A sudden surge of energy flowed within him as he willed himself to fight off his asphyxiation.

"Lumos caecus!" he choked.

The silver orb on his staff radiated with scintillating illumination. Tanzar immediately relinquished his curse, falling back and covering his eyes from the searing light as Killian fell to the floor, gasping for air. Within seconds, Tanzar recovered and returned his focus upon Killian.

"Orbis incendia!" he shouted, firing several spheres of flame from his wand.

Killian rolled away just as the fired crashed against the stone wall with the explosive power of the Hades' fires.

"You can dance all you like," Tanzar taunted. "There's nowhere to run!"

"I do not run ..." Killian asserted with sudden confidence as he made it to his feet and squared up to Tanzar. "Ferrum extertus!"

Several of the iron candle rods along the corridor were wrenched from the walls and projected toward Tanzar.

The brood master's eyes widened, but he easily raised his defenses and deflected the attack. However, in the same instant, Killian had made his way around his adversary, effectively reversing their positioning. Now Tanzar, once again, found himself blocked in.

"Sanusundo!" Killian followed up before Tanzar could regain his bearings.

A sonic wave of deafening bass rippled away from Killian, crashing into Tanzar and thrusting him through the crumbling stained glass window. When the wave subsided, Killian ran to the opening, looked down, and saw Tanzar flat out on the rooftop of the Great Hall, scrambling to get to his feet. Without hesitation, he leapt after him as the battle within Hogwarts spilled into the dead end, now littered with broken candle rods and shattered glass.

. . .

Hermione found herself in another melee. Nothing she could not handle. Young and inexperienced … Pathetic. As she finished off her adversary, she heard an explosive drumming sound resonate from further down the corridor. Covering her ears, she raced on to find the source. As she rounded the corner, she saw Killian just as he leapt from the window.

Her heart raced as she ran to the window, passing Ginny along the way. Upon reaching the shattered opening, she looked down and saw Killian, once again, engaged with Tanzar as the sun rose over the horizon. As she went to follow, however, she felt a hand grasp her firmly by the arm.

"Are you mad?" Ginny asked in exasperation.

"I have to go after them!" Hermione shouted as she struggled to pull away.

"After them?" Ginny tried to rationalize. "They jumped out the bloody window!"

"I have to," Hermione went on desperately. "I can't lose him again!"

"Lose who?" Ginny asked, perplexed by the impassioned declaration.

Hermione had no chance to answer. Over Ginny's shoulder, she saw Luna backing away from Bellatrix as the maniacal witch attacked with vicious onslaughts. Ginny, noticing Hermione's line of vision, spun around and, without hesitation, sprinted down the corridor to aid Luna.

Hermione then returned her focus out the window, scanning the area for Killian amidst the blinding rays of the morning sun that glistened off the dampened roof tiles. After a moment, she found him dueling Tanzar along the far end of the rooftop … And losing his footing!

"Two for one then, is it, my little pretties?" Bellatrix cackled as Ginny's help did little to even the odds.

It was a crossroad, and Hermione was caught in the middle. She knew Ginny and Luna would not last against Bellatrix. But Killian … She turned back towards the window and gasped as she lost sight of both Killian and Tanzar. They were gone! She took a single step through the damaged frame strewn with shards of shattered colored glass when she heard Luna shriek in pain as Bellatrix laid a curse upon her. Killian …

"Reducto!" Hermione cried, swirling around and drawing her wand on Bellatrix.

The attack met its mark, catapulting Bellatrix quite a distance down the hall as Hermione joined Luna and Ginny. Together, the three of them went after Voldemort's faithful servant, who retreated down the corridor, through the foyer, and into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall itself was an eruption of curses and jinxes bounding and rebounding in every direction. As they dueled, Hermione saw Ron and Neville take down Fenrir Greyback, Flitwick take down Dolohov, and George and Jordan take down Yaxley. Even Voldemort found himself at three to one odds against McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley. Could it be? Were they actually winning the battle?

No … Hermione could not distract herself with such optimism. Even with their combined efforts, she, Ginny, and Luna were still being outmatched by Bellatrix. After dodging an attack, Hermione's heart nearly leapt into her throat as the Dark sorceress threw a Killing Curse that missed Ginny by less than a breath.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Mrs. Weasley cried out in a rage that Hermione had never imagined possible from the gentle woman. "OUT OF MY WAY!" she went on as she pushed the three of them aside and engaged Bellatrix.

The end was near. Hermione could feel it in her very soul. Voldemort and Bellatrix were the last left standing. The end was near …

. . .

Tanzar leapt up, firing a curse that Killian deflected before his feet even touched the roof of the Great Hall. This was followed by several curses in succession, each meeting with the same effect. Killian stalked towards Tanzar with a purpose as the Dark wizard continued to retreat.

"Accio!" Tanzar cast beyond Killian's shoulder.

Killian turned and saw a stone gargoyle ripped from its pedestal and hurled towards him. He lunged out of the way just as the statue shattered against the rooftop, leaving a sizable impact crater.

For several minutes they parried for positioning, each countering the other with precision and skill. After a misstep, Killian slipped and nearly lost his footing as he teetered along the edge of the roof. It was the momentary distraction that Tanzar had been waiting for.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted as a green jet shrieked towards Killian.

The Killing Curse. Tanzar was looking to end it. Killian ducked to avoid the fatal attack. In doing so, however, he sacrificed his balance and fell from the rooftop, colliding with the outcropping alongside the windows of the Great Hall with crushing force.

The fall disoriented Killian, knocking out his wind in the process. He forced himself to his feet, just as Tanzar came down upon him.

"Expelliarmus!"

Killian's staff flew through the air, arcing towards Tanzar, who caught it triumphantly. Now disarmed, Killian backed up against the enormous stained glass window. He was far too tired, too worn, too weak. He had fought for too long. It had all come down to this.

"Did you really believe you could win?" Tanzar mocked as he eyed Killian's staff. "Daddy's, is it?"

Killian could hear the chatter of conversation through the window of the Great Hall, but could not make out any words.

"How naïve," Tanzar went on. "Even if you had managed to strike me down this night, you didn't really think this would be the end, did you? There have always been Dark wizards! If I fell, others would follow in my place!"

Tanzar drew his wand upon Killian, who immediately felt the pressure of the curse against his throat, lifting him from his feet, and choking the air from his lungs. From the other side of the glass, he heard a duel …

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

After a few agonizing seconds, Killian's vision began to blur. He heard an eruption of cheers echoing in the Great Hall. Tanzar, seemingly unaware of whatever was transpiring within the walls of Hogwarts, advanced on Killian until he was right in his face.

"I want you to know," he began in a deathly tone, "that I am not through with you just yet. After I've taken your life, I will hunt down everyone you have ever known, everyone you have ever cared for, everyone you have ever loved … And I will send them to meet you!"

Tanzar's face twisted in a demonic laugh that Killian could scarcely hear through the pounding of blood in his ears. Thoughts began to pass through his mind. He was going to hunt her … He was going to kill her … Hermione!

"Pain, anger, fire burning within your soul, those are the allies of your attack …"

Snape's voice echoed through Killian's mind.

"You must control them …"

His mentor had trained him well ... He would not fail him.

"Control them . . . and they will serve you!"

Killian felt his muscles tighten, trembling with a focused energy. Just as before, when he stood before Voldemort, his fear was gone. The choking pressure around his neck released, and he fell to the floor with a heave of fresh air. Tanzar quickly reacted, attempting to reapply the curse, only to find it deflected away with a wave of Killian's hand.

"What magic is this?" Tanzar gasped in horror as Killian eyes blazed with a controlled fury.

"Mine!" Killian answered, reaching out for his staff that suddenly wrenched away from Tanzar and found its master's hand once more. "Reducto maximus!"

Tanzar was struck squarely, careening over the side of the rooftop before plummeting toward the courtyard below. As Killian watched, a dark shadow swooped from the early morning sky, snatching Tanzar from the air, securing him on its back, and soaring off into the distant horizon.

"No!" Killian shouted as the black dragon disappeared from sight.

He had him. He had him in his grasp … And he let him escape. Tanzar was gone.

. . .

The battle was over. Voldemort lay dead on the floor of the Great Hall. The Boy Who Lived lived after all. A joy spread throughout the halls such as had not been witnessed in what seemed like an eternity. Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws alike stood together as one … United.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just left the headmaster's office after having spoken with Dumbledore's painting and hashing out where, exactly, they would go from there on forth. Harry decided to discard the Elder Wand, to return it to Dumbledore's tomb. He had simply had enough of all the pain and suffering that had been caused on its account. It was time to put it all in the past.

"Are you coming?" Harry asked Hermione, who lagged behind as the three of them headed back towards the Great Hall.

"I'll catch up," she answered.

"Right, then," Ron pointed out. "Better hurry, or you'll miss out."

Hermione smiled and waved them off. She had no desire to return to the Great Hall. Everything she wanted was right there before her, standing in the shadows. As Harry and Ron disappeared beyond the corner, she ran to him.

"Killian!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

"Hermione ..." Killian sighed, taking in the scent of her hair, her skin, the sound of her voice. "I don't understand ... How do you—"

"Your charm failed," Hermione explained, holding Killian as if he were falling away.

"I guess I'm not particularly skilled at them," Killian admitted.

"Why?" Hermione went on, holding him firmer still. "Why did you do it?"

Killian ran his fingers through her hair, cascading down around the soft skin behind her ear. "I didn't know what else to do ... I couldn't …"

Hermione pulled back, cutting him off as their eyes met. "I had forgotten you," she admitted as tears streamed down her face. "I had forgotten everything … I didn't mean to … I didn't know …"

"You have nothing to apologize for," Killian assured as he placed his hand on Hermione's cheek.

"But … Ron …" Hermione tried to explain.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Killian repeated firmly.

Hermione pulled Killian close, kissing him, drawing him ever nearer. For a moment, everything around fell silent and the world disappeared. But then Killian withdrew, looking at Hermione as he held her in his arms, an expression of remorse and regret etched into his hollow features.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, enjoying the familiar sense of warmth and comfort within Killian's embrace.

"I'm sorry, Hermione ..." he began, the confidence in his voice giving way to staggering doubt.

"Now you're apologizing needlessly," Hermione assured with a smile. "It's over. Everything is going to be all right."

"I wish it were true," Killian admitted as he gazed into Hermione's eyes. "With all my heart, I wish it were true."

"I don't understand," Hermione said, now concerned and confused. "Voldemort is dead … We've won … There's nothing keeping us—"

"Tanzar escaped," Killian explained.

"What does it matter?" Hermione argued. "We've cut off the head of the monster. The Ministry will pick up the pieces. He'll be captured. They all will, eventually."

"Perhaps," Killian conceded. "But even if he is captured, there will be others. There will always be Dark wizards," he went on, Tanzar's words burning through his consciousness as well as Liam's ominous warning. "And … I've done things, Hermione … Terrible things."

"I don't care," Hermione promised. "Whatever you've done, I don't care."

"I have a mark on me now …," Killian explained further, his words burning in his throat with every vibration. "Everyone I know, everyone I care about … None of them will be safe so long as they're near me."

"No," Hermione protested, pounding Killian on the chest. "We can leave … We can run away," she pleaded, now clutching Killian's shirt and pressing her forehead to his. "Please, Killian … Please stay with me … I can't …"

Killian took Hermione's hands into his, fighting the emotions that were ready to burst through proverbial wall he had painstakingly built brick by brick over the last year.

"Hermione," he started as his eyes began to water. "Everything I have ever touched has been destroyed. I cannot bring you into this. I … love you too much … to watch you die."

Hermione stared into Killian's eyes for a moment, looking for a sign of hope. But there was none to be found. Even as she cursed the words that fell from his lips, she knew them to be true.

"It's not fair," she wept as she drew Killian close once again, laying her head upon his chest. "This wasn't the way it was supposed to be … The way we were supposed to be."

"I'm sorry," Killian apologized, kissing Hermione on the forehead, embracing her as if she were his final breath. "I'm so sorry …"

Again their lips met. Hermione did not want to stop. She felt that if she could keep him there, holding him forever in that embrace, somehow the world would be right again … Somehow they could still … Still be.

"Master?" came a timid voice from behind.

Hermione and Killian looked down and saw Kuulic standing by Killian's side, holding the end of his tattered longcoat.

"Politeness to you," he greeted with a bow to Hermione, who almost smiled at the gesture.

"Hello, Kuulic," Hermione returned.

"Hermione," Killian whispered as Hermione turned her gaze back upon him.

Killian offered no further words, but his expression spoke volumes. In the silence that followed, a set of footsteps echoed through the hall.

"Hermione?" came Luna's voice. "Is that you?"

Hermione turned quickly as Luna approached. As she did, she felt Killian's hands slip away from hers.

"Yes," she answered as she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened up.

"Are you coming?" Luna asked. "They're asking about you."

"Yes, I'll be there …" Hermione started as she turned around, her words suddenly failing her.

Killian, along with his house-elf, was gone. It felt as though Hermione's very breath had been stolen away. The tears that she had, only seconds ago, attempted to hide, now flowed uncontrollably as she leaned against the stone wall and slowly slumped down to the floor.

"Hermione!" Luna gasped as she raced to Hermione's side, throwing her arms around her. "What's the matter? Are you all right?"

"No," Hermione answered, weeping within Luna's embrace. "No, I'm not."

. . . . .

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

… Four Years Later …

It had been a long day at the Ministry, and Hermione was getting ready to pack it up to head home for the evening. Her recent promotion from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to the Department for Magical Law Enforcement had put quite a lot on her plate. But, while she enjoyed working on the improvement of life for house-elves, her current work on the eradication of oppressive pure-blood laws awoke an even stronger passion within her.

As she gathered her papers and slipped them into her leather side bag, Harry popped his head into her office.

"Hey, Hermione," he said, glancing around as if looking for someone.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione returned, surprised to see him still at the Ministry after regular business hours. "You're here late this evening."

"Not on purpose, I can assure you," Harry said with a grin. "Is Ron with you?"

"No," Hermione answered. "He left hours ago. Why?"

"Just making sure." Harry paused for a moment as if contemplating how, exactly, to phrase his next thought. After biting his lip and staring at the ceiling for a moment, he redirected his attention to Hermione, who was looking upon him with piqued curiosity.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Um …" Harry began before apparently deciding to just be out with it. "He's here."

"What?" Hermione laughed at Harry's cryptic comment. "Who's here?"

"He's here," Harry repeated, widening his eyes and tilting his head for emphasis. "Just saw him as I was heading out. Talking with Kingsley down by his office."

Hermione's heart thumped in her chest for a moment as a flood of emotions rolled over her. She quickly joined Harry in the doorway, and they both looked down the long corridor toward Kingsley's office.

There he was. She had not seen him since Voldemort fell, since the moment he told her …

"Are you just going to stand here?" Harry asked.

"I …" Hermione stammered. "I don't know what I'd say."

"Start with hello," Harry teased. "Build the conversation from there."

Hermione elbowed Harry in the ribs as she continued to look on. So much had happened since they had last seen each other. She had become an up and coming talent within the Ministry while the Triad, as Killian and his associates had come to be called, continued on with their relentless pursuit of Dark wizards.

The Triad worked outside of the authority of the Ministry, answering to no one. However, Killian's conversation with Kingsley made it rather clear that the Ministry was well aware of the Triad's vigilante practices.

The world was better, but not perfect. As it turned out, Killian had been right about those who were close to him. Over the years, Hermione had developed an obsession with the Daily Prophet, perusing it every morning for any word of the Triad's exploits while keeping an open ear in regards to any gossip at all pertaining to the trio's growing notoriety.

Recently, she had heard of a tragic event of which the details were being safely guarded, even from someone with as much rank and privilege within the Ministry as Hermione. The little she had learned was in regards to an attack that left a great number of victims. Among the dead were a young boy and his father … Killian's nephew and brother-in-law. No doubt this was the reason Killian was at the Ministry. Looking for answers. To Hermione's knowledge, there were no leads in the case, no proof that Tanzar had any hand in the attack, but rumors spread among the few within the Ministry who knew of the event. Killian was marked. Both the hunter and the hunted.

"I'm going to say hi," Harry finally said as he walked down toward Kingsley's office, leaving Hermione in the doorway.

Still unable to move, she watched as Harry approached Kingsley, Killian, and his two companions. Altimus Marconius, the seventh… Brute strength that matched his size, moderately skilled in wizardry, but loyal to a fault. Wraith, with her crystal blue eyes and hair like spun gold … Deceptively petite and seemingly delicate, but extraordinarily powerful and dangerously impulsive.

Harry smiled and shook hands with Altimus, who laughed heartily at whatever comment Harry had made. Killian simply stood there, his hands crossed behind his back as he listened to the conversation around him.

Harry then turned back toward Hermione and waved her over. As he did, everyone turned and looked, Killian's eyes finding her instantly. Embarrassed, and cursing Harry under her breath, she quickly straightened up and walked towards the group, wringing her hands uncomfortably as she went along.

"Well, I must be off," Kingsley dismissed with a bow. "I shall be sure to send word should anything be uncovered."

Killian nodded as Kingsley turned and headed off down the hall just as Hermione joined the group.

"Hi," she offered in a tone far meeker than she had intended.

"Hello," Killian returned, his eyes remaining fixed upon Hermione in a manner that left her feeling completely exposed.

Wraith nudged Altimus in the side as she began to step away. "Time to go."

"We're going somewhere?" Altimus asked with mock surprise.

"You're an idiot," Wraith dismissed with tempered disgust.

"You see, that was mean," Altimus goaded with a smirk. "It's why people don't talk to you."

"I'll walk you out," Harry offered as he, Altimus, and Wraith headed off. "Good to see you again, Finn."

"You as well, Potter," Killian returned.

A few seconds later, they were alone … Silent … Neither willing to begin. Hermione looked up at Killian. The arrogant young Slytherin with the devilish grin was gone, replaced by the hardened and emotionless figure who stood before her. But his eyes … Somewhere behind it all, his eyes still smiled at her.

"You look wonderful," he finally started.

"So do you," Hermione followed without thinking. "A bit rougher around the edges, but still … I heard about your nephew and your brother-in-law," she went on. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," Killian said with little feeling.

Hermione was a bit surprised with the lack of emotion within Killian's response. She supposed that after years of being surrounded by death, perhaps he had grown immune to the pain. More likely, he was simply hiding it. He never was one to let his emotions betray him. Very Slytherin.

"Wraith is very pretty," Hermione went on, still at a loss for what to say.

"So I hear," Killian said.

"Are you two—" Hermione began.

"No," Killian answered before Hermione could finish the question.

She already knew the answer before she asked. She simply wanted to hear him say it.

"How is Ron?" Killian asked.

Of course he would ask. No dancing around it. She had actually expected it, especially after her question. Like her, she was fairly certain he already knew the answer. He just needed to hear her say it.

"We're …" Hermione began, a lump rising in her throat as she nearly choked on her words. "We're getting married."

He knew. She could tell that he knew. Even so, she saw how the words stung, his jaw tensing, his eyes flinching ever so slightly.

"He is very lucky," he said at last. "He's … a good man."

"Yes," Hermione agreed reluctantly as, amidst her attempt to fight it, her eyes began to well. "He is … But he's not you, though, is he?"

"Let's hope not," Killian said with a subtle lean.

A grin? … The hint of a grin? … It was so faint, almost unnoticeable.

A hundred thoughts went through Hermione's head all at once. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many ways she wanted to say them, but none of them made their way to her lips.

"Life's funny, isn't it?" she said at last.

"Not exactly the word I would have chosen," Killian disagreed.

"No, probably not," Hermione admitted. "Look at us … Look at what we've become … What have we become?"

For the first time, Killian made a movement towards Hermione, taking her hand into his and looking her directly in the eyes.

"You have become perfection," he began. "You will be a wife to a loving husband, a mother to beautiful children … And you will accomplish extraordinary things."

"And what of you?" Hermione asked, losing control of her emotions as reality began to sink in. "What will you become? Who will love you?"

Still clutching Hermione's hand, Killian looked at the floor, taking a deep, thoughtful breath. "Some paths we choose," he said before regaining eye contact. "Others are chosen for us."

For what seemed like an eternity, they looked upon each other, neither willing to relinquish the moment. Hermione saw before her the fate of their destiny. She felt broken. Even through Killian's cold exterior, she could see that she was not alone in the sentiment.

Just then, another wizard made his way past them in the hall. "Goodnight, Miss Granger," he greeted politely as he strolled along.

"Goodnight," Hermione returned, her voice cracking slightly, although she did not believe he had noticed.

"I should go," Killian said as he straightened up, Hermione's hand still within his.

Don't go … Stay with me … Stay with me forever, Hermione thought as her heart drummed in her chest. "Yes," she agreed in complete contrast to her mind's processes. "I should probably head home."

Killian looked at Hermione for a moment longer before bowing down and kissing her gently across her fingers. His lips stayed on her skin longer than what would be considered appropriate, yet somehow not long enough.

Hermione closed her eyes. She was back at Hogwarts, dancing in the dim light of a stairway with an arrogant, yet intriguing stranger. Two students with their entire lives unwritten, no idea where the world would take them, nothing but each other's embrace as they turned and swayed to the music of their own private dance. It was a memory she would carry with her forever.

"Goodbye … Hermione Granger," Killian whispered softly as he stood and slowly, almost reluctantly released Hermione's hand.

Hermione could not bring herself to say the words, fighting with all her willpower to hold in the tears she knew would burst forth the moment Killian turned away. It was then that she noticed a glimmer on his chest … A ring on a necklace that must have fallen from his shirt when he bowed to kiss her hand. A silver ring … Her silver ring. After all this time, he still wore her mark upon him.

Forgoing appropriateness, Hermione threw her arms around Killian, wanting … needing to feel his embrace one last time. Although there was a moment's hesitation, Killian returned the embrace with equal fervor. She thought she could even hear a quiver as his breath softly caressed her neck.

"I will not say goodbye to you, Killian Finn," she whispered gently, her lips upon his ear. "I will never say goodbye."

Killian's arms tightened around her. She could feel his pain as it melded with hers. However skilled he was at burying his emotions, this was a pain he could not hide from her. Against all desires, they released their embrace. There were no more words. Nothing more could be said; nothing more could be felt. Killian turned and slowly walked down the hall while Hermione stood there, watching him leave.

From that agonizing moment, however, came a glimmer of hope. Hermione now knew, beyond all doubt, her heart would always belong to him. And he … He would always be hers.

... the end ...

I truly hope you enjoyed this hypothetical story of what could have happened had Hermione chosen to walk off her frustrations after the Yule Ball versus simply going to bed, thus meeting a student she would likely never have crossed paths with under any other circumstances. It was one small, simple, insignificant decision in the grand scheme of things. But how much would it change her life compared to her life within the books? How much would it have stayed the same?

I will admit, another reason I took a few extra days to post this was because I absolutely loved writing this story. I knew once I posted it, I would not be writing about Hermione and Killian again. At least not during their years together at Hogwarts. What can I say? Behind the facade, I am a hopeless romantic at heart and this story has become very near and dear to me. It takes me back to a time when things were ... Well, for a brief moment, they were perfect. But, for reasons that seemed right at the time, I let it go. Mistakes and regrets ...

Thank you all to those who have read this series. For those of you who were kind enough to leave a review, even more thanks. It has been a pleasure ... I am now off to dream.