The Green Rose
First it was faint, but then the coughs became clearer. They were feminine, although it was hard to tell. The fog blocked out any view of the field, and only allowed everything to be hidden. Slowly, the fog began to clear, and there stood out Hermione Granger.
Her eyes narrowed, her hair was frizzed up in the air above her head. Looking at her, you could tell she had seen more than her eighteen years of living.
Limping away from where the smoke had been erupting from, she looked back quickly. As if to be wiping away tears, Hermione touched her cheeks. Letting her arms fall back down, she coughed a few more times.
Then, she stopped after she had taken a couple steps. Stooping low, Hermione picked a thin object up in her dirty hands. Staring down at it, she blew on it, getting the dust off it. It could be seen as what it truly was now; a wand; his wand. Carefully, she clamped her hand around the familiar wand and shut her eyes.
Several tears escaped from her lids, cascading down her cheeks that were red from all the heat. Once she opened her eyes, Hermione let her grip loosen on the wand. She stood up with difficulty, yet didn't bother to brush herself off; she was too filthy at the moment to care.
Looking around herself, she noted that she was alone. Alone...what a strange word. She had never been this lonely before. There had always been Harry and Ron with her. But now, they had left her to fight their own battles. However, they had not known that Hermione had been fighting along with them all this time. Guiltily, Hermione wiped her cheeks quickly, but then the corner of her eye caught sight of something bright.
To her right, she glanced. Turning herself fully around, Hermione's eyes widened upon the sight her eyes saw. A glowing green rose lay on the floor a couple feet away from her. The rose, Hermione remembered, had not been glowing that strongly a couple moments ago, so she knew something was out of the ordinary, and she had an idea what it could be.
With long strides, Hermione walked over to the bright rose, and bent down. Taking it into her right hand, her eyes shut off, and the memories instantly fell upon her.
"Hermione," Ron
started. "I - We - " he corrected himself, motioning to
Harry beside him. " - Just came to let you know that we're going
to go off into battle." Hermione briefly glanced at
Harry before looking back toward Ron. Her eyebrows were raised, and
she shrugged lightly. "I know that, Ron." She
swallowed. "I'm coming too, right?" Ron looked as
if he had decided against what he was about to say. Looking back
toward Harry, he blinked. Harry, understanding his friend's motives,
cut into the conversation. "Yeah, about that, Hermione.
We don't want to put you in danger-" " Ron smiled
against his friend's sudden anger. He leaned his hand in toward
Hermione's cheek. Caressing it lightly, he shook his head. "Who
said you weren't courageous?" His hand fell low. His smile also
did. "It's just - Hermione, we don't want to lose you."
"I can fight," Hermione explained determindly.
"We know that," Harry replied. Groaning, he
looked around the Gryffindor Common Room as if the things that were
left to say were written on the bare, white walls. A moment later, he
turned back to his friend, and cleared his throat. "Dumbledore
agrees with us." His voice was quiet, barely audible. Hermione
heard him though. "What?" she exclaimed. Standing
up from her seat at their usual table in the common room, she glared
down at the two young men. Both Harry and Ron followed her lead,
standing up after her, and stared at their friend guiltily. There was
a pregnant pause, but it was soon broken. "Hermione,
it's final." Ron frowned. "You're not fighting in the Final
Battle." His red hair had been let out to grow, and he
looked much younger than how old he really was. Quidditch had done
him good, by giving him quick reflexes just like Harry. Harry,
on the other hand, still looked about the same. Same green eyes,
messy, black hair, and legendary scar. Hermione had never seen him
look more serious than he did at that precise moment. She knew better
than to object to their wishes, but she was beyond furious. She had
to let her rage go. "Harry, I am not going to stand back
while you are in jeopardy of dying! How thick do you think I am?"
she asked, her voice on the verge of cracking. One second she was
looking at Harry, the next at Ron. "I'm sorry,
Hermione." Harry sighed. "But this is the way things have
to be done. Either way, you are not going to die; I promise you
that." "I don't want your promises!" Hermione
objected. "I just want you to be alive - You and Ron!" She
looked at Ron for support, but once she saw his sullen gaze, she knew
he would not be backing her up. Defeated, she stared at Harry.
"Hermione, I don't know what I would do if you died."
Harry paused. "And I am not going to let that happen while I'm
alive." Harry looked as if he was about to burst. His
cheeks were red, his eyes weary, and a bead of sweat had just
trickled down his forehead. Just as soon as he had taken a deep
breath, he had turned around and strode toward the staircase.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted to his back, but to no
prevail. Without once looking back, Harry took off up the
stairs, and only a slam of a door was heard seconds later. Hermione
winced at the sound, realizing just how much rage Harry had bottled
up. He had a lot of grief in him as well. Hermione glanced at
Ron, wondering why he hadn't taken off after Harry. Ron,
understanding Hermione's bewilderment, locked gazes with Hermione's.
"Hermione," he began softly. "You have to know
that Harry and I care about you so much. We rather die by the hands
of Voldemort than knowing that we had allowed you to be put in danger
on the most dangerous day in wizard history!" he explained.
Hermione didn't even nod. She just stared at the red-haired
man in front of her. He was towering over her, but he didn't let that
be an advantage. No, he knew how much Hermione wanted to be an equal,
and so be it, he loved her potential. Hard thing was that she would
not stop with her stubbornness. She was speechless. Nothing
came out of her mouth, and that is why Ron sighed for the umpth time
that night. Quickly, he turned on his heel and followed Harry's
previous steps up the staircase and toward the boys' dormitories.
Hermione didn't bother to call out this time, understanding
her friends' conflict. Taking her seat again, she placed her chin on
her bent elbow, letting it rest there for the time being. Finally,
she heard the door upstairs slammed shut for the second time in five
minutes, and it was only then that she allowed the tears to
fall.
:-:-:
Dawn came as soon as dusk had
fallen the previous night. The time was nearing for the battle that
had been known to come for many years. The participants of the war
were all in the Great Hall, preparing for their act of
defense. Harry, leading all the Houses except Slytherin, had
woken up that morning uncomfortably. The previous night's arguement
still lingered in his mind, and he knew Ron could tell he was still
disappointed with himself; he hadn't let Hermione do the one thing
she wanted to do, and that was to help him. The sounds of the
Great Hall were growing louder, many more participants showing up
later on in the morning. With only a couple hours to spare, Hermione
began to explain the plan of their side, the Light Side. Immediately
did everyone in the hall quiet down and listen to Harry Potter. "We
are all the meet Voldemort where the Forbidden Forest begins, and
where the calm grounds end. Voldemort, himself, had sent me the
letter advising to where we were going to have this final mean of
battle." Everyone looked at him sullenly. Ron, from
Harry's side, stared up at him from where he sat down at the
Gryffindor Table, for Harry had stood up on the table to get a better
view of everyone else. Dumbledore and the rest of the staff
involved in the battle, that belonged to the Light Side, were seated
at the staff table, listening eagerly to Harry's instructions
carefully and quietly. One teacher, however, was not among the rest
of them; Severus Snape. Harry had been told by Dumbledore that he
would be on the Dark Side, but only to trick that side and do all our
intentions instead. Harry, even though he did not trust Snape,
took Dumbledore's word on it. Dumbledore had grown older and wiser,
and he knew what could end up as the result of a foolish act. Harry
did not want to be the one causing it either. So, Harry
explained the plan from his perspective. He noticed that Hermione
hadn't come down out of his dormitory that morning, and to that he
felt awful. Although he had a huge role to perform today, and that
was to defeat the Dark Lord. With or without Hermione, Harry would do
his best, and he would do it all while knowing that Hermione was out
of any danger ready to harm her.
:-:-:
Unknown
to everyone else, the Gryffindor Tower wasn't empty. A young girl,
with her long brown curls falling into her face as she rushed, made
her way down the steel staircase that led to the Gryffindor Common
Room. Hermione Granger, safely swinging a black messenger bag
onto her right shoulder, looked around before reaching the Portrait
Hole. No one was in sight, and she let out a relieved exhale. In her
right hand was her wand, and she scurried out of the hole in front of
her quickly, yet quietly. In her other hand, she held a small
piece of parchment that had been bent down the middle. She stopped in
her tracks right outside the Gryffindor Common Room, and looked down
at the paper in her hand. She opened up the object for a clearer view
of it. Once open from all sides, the crisp paper turned out to be a
photo, a picture of her, Harry, and Ron in their Hogwarts robes. The
picture had been taken earlier this year, and Hermione had always
enjoyed taking a look at this specific one. So, she had decided to
take it with her when she would help the Light Side out in secret.
Even if Harry didn't think it was a good idea.
:-:-:
Somewhere
off the edge of where all the calm wind lingered, a group of cloaked
figures were herded amongst one another under the shade of a big oak
tree. In the midst of it all stood a tall man, yet having not much of
a physical feature. His eyes gleamed as he spoke, and all the
people around him welcomed his greedy words and warnings. They had
all been given a job in the battle, but there was one person, in
particular, who hadn't been assigned a role as of yet. His time was
to come. "Young Malfoy," the Dark Lord's voice
mustered out. Among the darkly lit crowd, a tall, lithe man
stepped forward, closer to Voldemort. He bowed his head momentarily,
and then looked back at him with his eyes shielded by the hood of his
cloak he wore. He let it fall back, and his hair fell out of
its lock instantly. His pale features, still the same, stood out, and
his eyes gleamed with triumph and hate. He was ready for his need in
the battle of all the witches and wizards of this time. "You,"
Voldemort continued lowly. "Will be in charge of destroying the
one thing that truly matters to Harry Potter above all. Even though
protected well, it will be an easy task for you to accomplish. Do you
wish to take this challenge, young Malfoy?" Voldemort asked
persistantly. Draco Malfoy, his gray eyes swirling, nodded his
head, and cleared his throat. "The honor will be all mine, my
Lord." "Very well." Voldemort smiled. His red
slitted eyes went tighter, and he cleared his throat to continue
speaking. "Your assignment, young Malfoy, is to slaughter
Hermione Granger."
:-:-:
The Light
Side crowded around the-Boy-Who-Lived, and followed him as he took
off from the front doors of the castle. Harry, looking as if he had
aged many years in only one night, was ready to fight for every
obeying witch and wizard on the planet. On his right side
stood Ron Weasley. Wearing a long, thick cloak, he let his shoulders
somewhat droop, but did not let everyone else understand the fear he
held in himself. The beginning of the Forbidden Forest could
be seen from where they were walking. The lot of them were all armed
and organized. Dumbledore, walking in the back of the crowd, was
looking out for the poorer ones of the group; he wasn't ready to
allow Voldemort's side to satisfaction of killing any soul as much as
he could. Harry would just not let himself disagreement that
he and Ron had had with Hermione last night, and he was feeling as
miserable as ever. He just knew that she was in the secure confines
of her domritory with the rest of the girls not fighting. There was
just a thought on the egde of his mind that Hermione was somehow
going to get her way in the end. And as he walked closer to the end
of the safety line, he didn't realize how right he really
was.
:-:-:
Hermione watched from the egde
of the battlefield as Harry, Ron, and their followers walked toward
the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't see the Dark Side's fighters, but
she was sure they would show up very soon; it was almost time. So,
for the meantime, she crouched down behind a large bush. The noon sun
glistened down upon her, and she could feel the dark cloak around her
body absorb the wild heat. Regretting her choice of attire for that
day, Hermione crossed her arms against her chest, narrowed her eyes,
and witnessed the sights before her silently. After a couple
minutes, she saw the group of dark-cloaked wizards and witches making
their way toward where the Light Side was huddled. Hermione, knitting
her eyebrows together, tensed, and followed them with her eyes. She
realized that Harry was waiting for them without any motives, as she
could tell. But she knew better, for under it all, Harry was one of
the most couragous wizards she had ever known. And for that, she
prayed for him and all of good man-kind.
:-:-:
Harry
narrowed his eyes as the slimy walking figure crept closer to him.
With his followers close behind him with their hoods on, Harry felt
the witches and wizards behind him arm themselves immediately. The
way the Dark Side etched toward them took forever to Harry and Ron,
but it was only mere seconds. Ron, leveling his wand with his waist,
held in his breath as Harry took a couple steps forward, leaving
behind the Light Side momentarily. Ron, staying behind with
the rest of the crowd, glanced around for a quick second, then back
to where Voldemort was coming from. He could tell who some of his
followers were. On his left side, Ron realized that it was Lucius
Malfoy by his snake-like walk. Then straight behind him, Ron noticed,
was a woman; no doubt, Bellatrix Lestrange. He felt his hand tighten
around his wand as he understood who this witch was; she was a
murderer. And he hated her for it. Now Harry felt worried. He
was responsible for everyone behind him here. He was in control, and
he knew all the Light Side was counting on him to beat Voldemort. And
still, in the back of his mind, Hermione's heartbroken face was
etched there. He could not get her out of his head. Voldemort,
now just a few yards away, smirked at Harry. Harry, catching it,
returned it with a cold scowl. Once his eyes fell on the woman behind
him, though, he fell deep into a rage. It was Bellatrix Lestrange,
his Godfather's murderer. Harry's feet planted into the ground
sullenly, and he glared right at the face hidden under the thick hood
of her black cloak. He, however, knew that she could see the
expression on his face, and it only caused him more anger. Once
Voldemort was about three feet away from Harry, he stopped, and his
followers did upon his comand. He raised his hand at Harry, and
smugly smiled at him. "Potter," he hissed. "Welcome
to hell." He motioned his hands all around him. "It's
only hell with you in it," Harry spat back. Voldemort's
grin only widened. "We shall soon see who will be down in hell
in a matter of minutes." Harry glared at him as he spoke. "Is
your side ready, Potter?" the Dark Lord questioned. Harry
glanced around him, and saw his followers double up around him. He,
though, could not notice any sign of Dumbledore, and he felt a panic
and relief for that. So, Harry turned back to the Dark Wizard. He
raised his right hand, with his wand clasped in, above his torso, and
nodded. "Shall it begin," Voldemort whispered before
firing a sudden curse at his opponent.
:-:-:
Hermione's
eyes struck with fresh tears as she watched Harry battle with
Voldemort, and Ron with Lucius. She began panicking as she watched
Neville step toward Bellatrix, and raise his wand at her
threateningly. Hermione couldn't keep her hands still as they, too,
began dueling. She began breathing heavily, and finally
decided to step into the war. Making up her mind, she began to stand.
But just as she was wiping her behind from any dirt or old grass,
Hermione heard a slight noise coming from behind her; by the
Forbidden Forest. Somethine inside her was telling her not to
go toward the sound, but her ears were mesmorized. Hermione began
walking toward the dark forest under the bright noon sun. Right as
she was almost inside the forest, she heard her foot cramp on
something. Looking down and lifting her leg, her eyes saw a rose,
glowing the color green. Slowly, Hermione bent over after
glancing around for anyone, and picked the rose up in her left hand,
that wasn't occupied with her wand. Being amazed by the bright color
of the rose, she didn't hear any footsteps coming from behind her.
And as she raised the rose to sniff from her nose, she did not notice
the dark figure that aimed its wand at her. "Turn around,
Granger," the voice demanded. The rose suddenly fell from
Hermione's clutches, and out of panic, she turned around immediately.
Gasping at her predator's face, she felt her heart weaken. She had
been caught too soon.
:-:-:
Draco Malfoy
smirked as he caught his prey walk into the trap he had set up for
her. He should have known that the dumb Hermione Granger would be
amazed by anything in nature. And right he had been, for here, under
his command, was the Gryffindor-Bookworm he had grown to loathe so
much. She was a crest-fallen star in the middle of the forest,
and he had picked her up. He cleared his throat as she stared at him
with glossy eyes. She had truly been caught off-gaurd and he
congratulated himself on that honor. "Well, if it isn't
the infamous Hermione Granger." Draco leaned closer to her, and
took hold of her wand. He pocketed it quickly. "Malfoy,"
she muttered under her breath angrily. Draco only grinned
wider. "The one and only." Being this close in
proximity with Draco had its disadvantages for Hermione, and
advantages for Draco. He thought to himself how much he would enjoy
this, destroying the one person he had wanted to beat for so long.
And here she was, right in his clutches, and he was prepared. "Who
would have thought the intelligent mudblood would wander off alone,
and into the Forbidden Forest for that matter?" He took strands
of her brown hair into his spare hand as he continued to speak. "And
who would have thought that Potter and Weasley wouldn't be trailing
off after you?" At the mention of her friends, Hermione
straightened up. "Shut up, Malfoy," she commanded
harshly. "Oh," Draco said calmly, only hiding his
building rage. "I don't think you're the one running the calls,
Granger. That would be my job as you can see." With his
eyes, he motioned toward the wand he held profoundly. Hermione,
realizing just how right he was, was forced to succumb to him. She
stared right into his dark gray eyes, not once breaking eye contact.
She didn't droop her shoulders any longer either. But the glowing of
the rose below her eyes, still caught her attention, and she wondered
what it truly was signalling. Suddenly, as if understand what
she was thinking, Draco muttered something under his breath, and up
flew the flower into the air. Letting go of Hermione's hair, he took
hold of the rose instead. Letting it rest in front of Hermione's
eyes, he sighed contently. "What one single unique rose
can lure right into the dark forest, eh?" He chuckled as
Hermione realized she had been lured here. Her nose scrunched
up with disgust, and she narrowed her eyes even more with
frustration. Without even feeling it, her hands suddenly were tied
together with a thick piece of rope. As Hermione looked down at her
bitter fate, she frowned and refused to allow the tears to fall.
Looking up at her captor's face, she could see the smug expression he
wore, and she felt herself slip away limb by limb.
:-:-:
"Rictu
Sempra!" Harry shouted, seeing the bright blue light fly out of
the end of his wand. Heading straight toward the Dark Lord,
himself, it hit him straight in the chest. Although, not affected by
it pretty much, Voldemort bounded another curse right back to the
dark-haired boy. Harry dodged it at once. He glared at the
soul who had killed his parents, and suddenly the need to kill
Voldemort grew, and turned into want. Voldemort, though, seemed
amused by Harry's antics to harm him. "Is that all you've
got, Potter?" Voldemort yelled across the empty space between
them. There was a brief silence before Harry coughed sourly,
and raised his head higher and his chin more forward. "No,
asshole, I've got worse things that this up my sleeve." Harry's
eyebrows slanted together as his emotions tranformed. "Well
then," Voldemort hissed, feeling the other boy's hate boil.
"Shall we continue?" His question was answered by a
quick curse Harry had chanted under his breath. Unfortunately for
Harry, Voldemort dodged this one. Their eyes locked afterwards, and a
silent agreement was made; they would fight until one would die, that
was for certain.
:-:-:
Hermione fell
backwards, with Draco on top of her. Greedily, Draco grabbed a
handful of her cloak and ripped it off her body. He looked down at
her trembling form with greedy eyes, and feasted upon her frightened
features. "How does it feel, bitch?" he asked
audibly. He straddled the young woman and let his hands plant
themselves on her shoulder. She gave him an outraged look, and he
answered it rudely with another question. "How does it feel to
be brought down?" Hermione, feeling the irony of the
question, struggled. How dare he call her such a thing? She had heard
enough, and had seen enough. He was this close to breaking her apart
already. "Listen here, Malfoy. I haven't ever done
anything to you!" she exclaimed. In return, Draco smacked
her right cheek soundly. Hermione's neck snapped to the other side
with the impact of his force, and her eyes widened with shock. Her
cheek burned, and she knew there would be a bruise there any
moment. In pain, she turned toward him once again, and looked
up at the man that was torturing her slowly. Her eyes were giving
into the salty tears producing within herself, but she controlled
them once more. "How can you say and do all this without
feeling an ounce of guilt?" she asked him. From above
her, Draco tightened his legs around her waist to increase pressure
on the girl. He brought his head down closer to her, and whispered
into her ear fiercely. " She
swallowed hard as his words sunk in deep. "Now that," she
whispered quietly, though angrily. "Is your own fault. You know
that!" He raised his hand again threateningly, and she
cowered away with a whimper, shutting her eyes instantly. "No,"
he denied. "The only fault I have is for letting you get the
best of me. But not any more." A sinister grin replaced his
previous smirk, and Hermione opened her eyes to witness his
expression. "You aren't going to enjoy this as much as I
am, just to let you know," he whispered lowly, as he reached
down and nibbled on her neck. Hermione sucked in any breath she could
hold on to, and held in a moan that was forming in her throat. Even
if her mind hated this, her body surely wasn't. "Admit
it, Granger, you want this," were his final words before he took
out a pointy dagger from a pocket of his cloak. Hermione's
eyes fell on the sharp object and she immediately fell silent with
her whimpers, and she let her body limpen. The man above her really
was a maniac. And she, acting on her own judgement, had gotten
herself into this mess, and she wasn't going to get out of it
correctly.
:-:-:
Ron saw a beam of green
shoot out from Lucius' wand. He ducked under the sharp ray, and saw
it flash above him. He breathed in, relieved, and stared back at the
blonde before him. "Scared yet, Weasley?" Lucius
shouted at the red-head. Ron, cursing under his breath, let
his lips curl in a sneer. "No, not yet," he shouted
back. This only made the elder Malfoy grin. He raised his wand
again, but didn't muster up a curse or spell. He began to speak
directly to Ron. "Weasley, where is your precious
mudblood?" He grinned wider. "Left you, has she?" "No!"
Ron screamed outraged. "Watch your tongue, Malfoy, before I cut
it out." "Oh," Malfoy let out and faked a
pitied expression. "Couldn't have Granger's own tongue, so
you'll have to deal with mine? Well, I've got news for you, Weasley.
Soon, your mudblood bitch will be rid of from this world along with
you and Potter." Ron, not realizing how true Malfoy's
words were on Hermione's part, bit back a sly grin on account of
Hermione was safe up in her dormitory with many shielding spells
blocking anyone from entering. "You lie, Malfoy, Hermione
isn't anywhere near here." "But you are wrong,"
Lucius whispered, and smiled to reveal his yellow teeth to the young
man he was standing in front of amidst the final battle. "Hermione
Granger has met her match at this very moment." Understanding
his phrase, Ron didn't comprehend it all too fast, and didn't see the
bright gleam hurl his way, before it hit him straight in the
chest.
:-:-:
"No!" Hermione
shouted in a rush. "Please - Please, don't," she whispered
to the man above her. He was holding out the sharp dagger
right to the palm of her hand, ready to slice the skin any moment.
The gleam in his eyes wasn't predicting, although Hermione knew he
would not listen to her pleas. He liked the feeling of being
in control. He watched her hair fall into her eyes from the sudden
gust of wind around them, and let his head fall even more forward. He
caught her lips unexpectedly, and fell deep into the passion he was
starting. Hermione, defenselss and unable to fight back, was
forced to let him play with her lips. She had to let him take all of
her innocence and purity from her, and replace it with guilt, dirt,
and filth. Once departing from her lips, Draco smirked. "I
didn't know just how good Krum had it with you." Hermione
choked on a sob as he mentioned her previous beau. She struggled
beneath him as he spoke that last sentence, but she was held tightly
under his weight. Hermione was under his commands as of now, and she
knew that Malfoy wouldn't be backing out on his
own.
:-:-:
"Longbottom, are you
certain of your decision?" Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes were in
gleamed slits as she questioned the slightly chubby young man that
stood before her. He held a tough posture, not like his first
few years in Hogwarts, but a new one he had earned up until recently.
And he glared right back at the witch that had drove his parents to
insanity. His eyes held not a single trace of fear, and he
felt proud of himself on getting this far on his own. Knowing that he
didn't need the help of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, or Hermione
Granger made him understand just how much confidence he had
gained. Lifting his hand with his wand in it, he muttered the
two words that would have sealed his fate. "I
am."
:-:-:
Hermione tried focusing
on the green rose that was toward the right of her face. She stared
at it, trying to eliminate the pain she was feeling from her senses.
After a few cuts that she received from Draco, she only felt
numb. Draco, however, couldn't even understand just how much
joy he felt at the time. Slicing open the girl's skin before him was
the most interesting thing happening to him as of yet. Her blood
spilled out from her dead, sliced skin, and fell into trinkles on the
grass. He knew that she was trying to imagine herself in
another place, but he didn't say anything. He only pressed the dagger
against her skin harder, which emitted a groan on her behalf. After
a couple more cuts on her palms, Draco decided it was time for a more
drastic action. He wiped the dagger of any of her foul blood, and
placed it back into his cloak pocket. He let the blood fall out of
her hands without end, and he stood up quickly. Looking down at her,
he raised his wand, and said a curse just as she turned her face
directly at him. The shriek upon receiving the blow of his
curse was horrific, however. From her sight, the green rose went
away, only replacing by blurriness. "Malfoy!" she
cried out suddenly, only wishing the pain would end, and the end
would near. Draco, from above her, looked down at her without
a single trace of any emotion, and watched her writhe and whimper in
pain and disgust. She was in a pool of her own blood. He felt
somewhat satisfied with himself right then. As the curse wore
off slowly, Draco picked Hermione up by the collar of her shirt with
one single hand. She was brought to her feet in pain, and one sheer
movement. She hissed in shock and abrupt twinge, and failed in an
attempt to open her clamped eyes. Although, once the soreness
was familiar to her body, her eyes opened up. The tears soaked out of
her bloodshot eyes, and streaked down her cheeks. Draco looked
directly at her, and their noses were almost pressed against one
another. He held her close. "Feeling lucky, Granger?"
he asked. Hermione stayed silent, refusing to answer the
slimeball for her sake. She knew he would make her suffer, but this
way she knew that she had no way of provoking him for the
matter. The man in front of her, the one she had thought to be
innocent, had turned out to be the definition of pure evil. She could
not believe that she had recently developed feelings for this man,
and immediately regretted everything for it. "You should
be glad that I'm not ripping you apart," he seethed. This,
however, hit a cord in Hermione. " She felt him wrap his hand
around her throat immediately. She made a choking noise in the back
of her throat, and felt it hard to breathe instantly. She saw through
the small creaks of her eyes, Malfoy boring down at her with deep
eyes. Crushing her slowly, he enjoyed torturing her. This was
an easy task, and he would be congratulated for his accomplishment
once Voldemort reigned over soon. "If only Potter could
see you now," he whispered. "If only he could see you
broken down at the clutches of a Death-Eater." "You
will never break me, Malfoy," Hermione fought with herself, and
retorted back with full force, upon feeling his hand tighten around
her neck even more. "Aw, but sweet Granger," he said
mockingly, and let go of her neck abruptly, and watched her fall to a
heap on the floor in fascination. "I already
have."
:-:-:
Ginny Weasley made her
way quietly into the mob of Dark and Light witches and wizards. Under
the invisibility she could get under anyone's nose. She had taken the
cloak from Harry's dormitory after seeing that Hermione wasn't in her
own. She had decided to investigate, and the only conclusion was that
she had come to fight in the final battle. Ginny, caring for her
close girl friend, would do just about anything to keep her safe.
After all, who had always been the one she would go to once she
needed help and comfort? Hermione, only Hermione. She had seen
many, many familiar faces and their voices shouting out curses. She
was only sixteen, but this young Weasley knew her share of hexes,
curses, and enchantments. She had Hermione to thank for all
that. Ginny kept her breathing low and quiet as she walked
through the crowd lightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw
Harry blocking an unfriendly spell that had come out from Voldemort's
wand. Ginny, remembering Tom Riddle suddenly, had the sudden urge to
go show him a piece of her mind. Although, she refrained from doing
so. Her footsteps were silent, and they weren't seen. To her
left she saw another familiar face. A tear streaked down her cheek as
she witnessed the death of Colin Creevy, a young man she had grown to
admire in the friendliest sort. He had fallen so slowly to her, and
if she had stopped to see if he hit the ground eventually, she would
have been caught by passerbys. She crept away from that scene,
and uncovered another pair of familiarity. From the Dark Side, was
Blaise Zabini, a young man who was a year above her at Hogwarts. Now,
she could see what kind of a man he had become once he had joined
Voldemort's service. He had been dueling with Seamus Finnegan,
another boy a year older than she. But Seamus, she knew him enough
that he was a very good-hearted soul. And she felt her eyes moisten a
bit once she heard Blaise shout the killing curse. Fortunately for
her, as if someone had answered her prayers, Seamus was one of the
lucky ones who were spared, as he had dodged the curse at the last
minute. Ginny was growing rather upset and worried in moments.
She couldn't find Hermione anywhere, and she knew that she had to be
out here. Where else would a battle go on? For her mind to answer her
own question, her eyes fell onto the Forbidden
Forest.
:-:-:
Hermione looked up at the
man, ever so slowly, and she felt a warm, sticky substance trail down
the valley between her breasts. She glanced down at herself,
breathing in sharply at the pain in doing so, and she saw that it was
blood searing through the gashes that were marked on her neck. The
bastard had gone and harmed her to the extreme. While looking
away from the blonde, Hermione felt herself being lifted up from the
ground. Looking back up, she realized that he had cast a lifting
charm on her, allowing her to be raised off the ground and into the
air. She tried to speak her mind cruelly, but her voice was
gone. Nothing came out of her mouth, not even a squeak could be
spared from her dry throat. Hermione glared silently at the blonde
with all the strength she had left, and even then was it not good
enough. "Granger," Draco whispered, reaching out a
hand to the levitated Gryffindor. He caressed her right cheek with
one hand, and gripped his wand tighter in the other. "You cannot
possibly imagine how you look right now." When Hermione
didn't say anything or even glare, all she could do was blink. Draco
took this as a way for her anger to show, but all he could do was
chuckle merely. "Positively horrid," he answered
himself. Then, he whispered another spell under his breath,
and Hermione found herself standing securely on the ground, without
having the tempting urge to fall over flat onto her face or bottom.
Twisting her neck to get a better view of him, she still felt the
immense pain located on her neck, however. That is when she cried
out, and sound did come out. Hermione was startled at this, but
Draco, apparently, had been expecting it. "Screaming in
pain or ecstacy, Hermione choked back another cry as she felt
herself grit her teeth in absolute revulsion. "Never," she
spoke between her crushed teeth. "Will you win. Never -
Ever!" Draco looked upon her face with his own, and
placed his long pale fingers against her eyes as if to shield
them. "Such pretty eyes," he whispered. "Too
bad they are tainted." She flinched at his touch, which
caused him to cockishly smile. She was afraid of him, and that was
all he needed to know to feel well. The Hermione Granger was
frightened of him. Such wonderful news should have been reported to
The Daily Prophet. Too bad she wouldn't live to see another day from
his point of view. Unknown to Hermione, in a quick second,
Draco had bent down and taken in wet dirt into his hand without his
wand. Once standing back up straight, he had pushed his filthy hand
against Hermione's tear-stricken cheek. The mud mingled with the
salty tears instantly and Draco released her from his grip. She fell
backward instantly, and onto the ground. He bent down on the
ground, although nothing of pure value for him touched the dirty soil
except for his fine italian leather shoes. Hermione, casting her
glance downwards, was brought back to reality with him once he had
placed his cold hand under her chin to make her head tilt upward
towards his own. "Mudblood," he said, and watched
the mud on her cheek drip down onto the spot below her neck, where
the blood was flowing from. The mud and blood had mixed, getting
another inward smile from Draco. "Ironic, isn't it?" he
asked her, not really expecting an answer. She did not give one
anyway. "And they say you're strong," he said
incredulously. "Some strong Gryffindor. Not even strong enough
to hide her own tears." And he was right, for the tears
fell on endlessly from her deep brown eyes, and not once did they
cease. The cut was too deep and the hurt was lasting forever. It
would take a miracle for Hermione to stop crying
uncontrollably. "Malfoy," she croaked. Her eyes were
somewhat more high-spirited, even if there were still tears left in
them, and having produced more. "If I'm not strong, then what
are you? Taking orders to kill mudbloods, when he himself isn't a
pureblood. Fancy that..." "Shut up!" he
retorted immediately. The back of his palm collided with her
cheekbone, where there had been a bruise there earlier, and she cried
out again. Draco, satisfied with her action, bit back against his
lips and allowed himself to sneer at her. Her head had twisted
to the right from the amount of force he had inflicted on her. She
didn't look back to him, and she didn't need to, for he had gotten
back into her point of vision very quickly. "I'm going to
kill you, and once I do, Potter will be too heartbroken to carry on
anymore. What a foolish choice you made to carry on alone." He
stood up, brushed his pant leg off from any filth, and stared back
down at the shattered image of a once-successful young woman. "Tsk,
tsk, Granger. You would have made such a wonderful trophy for me in
my bedroom." He raised an eyebrow suggestively, and allowing
Hermione to react disgustedly. "But don't worry, you don't
deserve me." He raised his wand then and spoke, "And
now, I shall torture you till insanity, and finally to your death. I
shall enjoy having our life in my hands." Now, lowering
the wand closer to her fallen form, he grinned smugly. His gaze fell
into her own, and she looked away quickly, feeling very used. What
had she done? Why had she gone and thought this man was such a good
person? Why had she fell in love with him up until recently? Why was
she allowing him to kill her? All because she was foolish. "So,
Granger," Draco said, before touching his wand to her forehead.
"Say good-bye to your existence." As he bent his
head low to her own, he caught her lips one last time, for a moment
of passion, hate, and deceit. He had been smiling against her lips
once he had gotten the best of her. He leaned out afterwards, and
strands of his light blonde hair fell into his face, covering his
breathtaking eyes away from her view. He was just so close to her,
that she could smell the aftershave that he had used that
morning. And the moment, as soon as it had begun, had ended.
Hermione, hating herself for letting him get the best of her, shut
her eyes, and prepared herself for the worst. And right before she
knew it, she heard him say the curse that would destroy her forever,
and all of the Light Side along with her. "Avada-" But
right before he could finish, fate had other plans in stor. From
behind Hermione, there was a rustling from the bushes, and a quick
loud voice that shouted two powerful words of defense for the girl
under the blonde's ways. The words spoken had triggered a
yellow beam that shielded the young lady from the killing curse. And
just as Draco had uttered the end of his consent, it had backfired,
and had shot him in the chest. Green outlined the
dark-magicked man, and he collapsed to the floor. Hermione,
immediately felt her pain loosen up a bit, and she shockingly looked
down at the still man before her. Dead was his bitter fate; a fate
that had almost ended up to Hermione. Hermione, craning her
neck, glanced behind her only to realize who her savior was. The
red-headed young girl ran over to her close friend, and in spite of
doing so, so quickly, she did not notice the sinister pair of eyes
that followed her movements.
:-:-:
Pansy
Parkinson followed the only young Weasley that was a woman with
cat-like grace in every move. She watched as she saved the Gryffindor
bookworm from the fate that Draco would have provided her with. And
she also was determined to kill the little she-weasel for doing
so. So, just as Ginny Weasley had took off toward her best
friend, Pansy had whispered the deadly words under her thin breath.
The green light zoomed out of her aimed wand, and hit the red-headed
girl straight in her mid-back. She fell to the floor instantly,
crumbling in silence, in which Hermione screamed in
shock. "Granger," Pansy began, getting out from the
darkness, and allowing herself to be seen. "You really shouldn't
scream; you sound just like a banshee." "Parkinson!"
Hermione yelled, obviously outraged. She looked toward her unmoving
friend, and then back toward the female Slytherin. She instantly
stood up, forcing herself to forget the pain she was experiencing at
the moment. "You bitch, how dare you?" Pansy
grinned right back at the Gryffindor. "An eye for an eye,"
she just said in reply. "Really?" Hermione urged.
She spotted her wand from the edge of her eyes, and quickly picked it
up before Pansy had any time to react. She pointed it directly at the
puggish girl. "Then this shall decide who lives!" And
so began one of the last duels of the day. Curses were shot at
one another. Pansy, shooting off bombs, and Hermione blocking every
one of them as much as she could. Every now and then, a sharp pain
would strike Hermione around the neck, but it would soon disappear,
and only leave her with a disturbing memory. Pansy, feeling a
bead of sweat trickle down her forehead, and knew she was getting
tired. Just for the split second she raised a hand to wipe it off
angrily, Hermione shouted out a fire spell. A huge ray of fire sprung
out of her wand, and although Pansy ducked, it caught onto the
trees. The fire spread instantly, and Pansy panicked, thinking
how stupid Hermione had acted. But what Pansy didn't know was that
there had been a bomb she had enchanted for behind her own self. The
only thing Hermione had been aiming for, was that. The fire
caught hold to the bomb. Pansy's eyes widened. The sound and sight of
the explosion was devastating.
Hermione opened her eyes back up, taking in the clean air. She had just witnessed the deaths of three people, two of which she had particularly loved one way or another.
Her eyes locked with the beauty of the glittery green rose, and she didn't realize how drowsy she really was. She felt herself wishing for endless sleep because of the sharp pain she was feeling in her hands and neck. But not as much as the pain she was feeling inside.
As she fell to the floor one final time, the rose too fell out of her grasp, and only flew a few feet away from where she lay. Her breath, almost even, and then gone less, became even more weak. The amount of gas she had taken into her system was just too much.
Looking into the patch of clear blue sky above her, Hermione blinked one last time before she was taken as well. From the shadows on the side, a long dark figure stepped out, coughing slightly before reaching the destination aimed for.
He reached down to where the rose lay on the ashes and dirt, and picked it up in his scratched and bloodied hands. Examining the magnificent flower, a grin twisted his thin lips, and a gleam fell in place with his gray eyes. He had come, seen, and conquered, for he, Draco Malfoy, was still alive.