DISCLAIMER: Never have, nor will I ever own Harry Potter. They belong to J.K. Rowling. Neither do I own the song "Scars" by Papa Roach.

A/N: Before I start, this story is already planned out and with the help of my Pleta Bot (my name for her), Lauri, I will finish this and start the sequel, which is already planned out too. The updates will probably come either every other week or on the weekends, depending on how much time I have. This is sorta like my other stories and yet very different. The chapter titles are songs, by the way.

Prologue: Scars

The rain beat steadily upon the crimson-stained ground, washing the red liquid of life away from the earth. Lightning lit up the sky as the thunder roared up above, a prowler rolling along. The garden of corpses stretched on for miles, a sea of lifeless eyes.

A lone figure sat among the dead. Her dry sobs echoed in the night air. The rain plastered her hair to her face and soaked her clothes through, but she did not notice. Her eyes were trained on the body lying on the ground in front of her, red liquid spilling from his wounds.

"Please….," she cried, running her hand lovingly through his messy hair, "come back to me… Don't… leave…me…..not now…."

The war was over. The Light had struggled for dominance since Dumbledore's death, but not even with the most loyal or skilled members did they have any hope of winning this deadly war. The Dark side just had too many supporters; Voldemort was just too powerful.

In the months following Dumbledore's death, the Golden Trio had set out to find the remaining Horcruxes and gather more support. They had been unsuccessful in both tasks. Voldemort had became more weary and cautious of the safety of his Horcruxes so he had them guarded more closely than ever.

People throughout England were terrified at the thought of Voldemort and were scared of the power he wielded. He had them terrified with threats to their lives and the lives of their loved ones, so they, naturally, refused to join the Light in their mission.

Without any help, Order member after Order member began to fall to Voldemort's Death Eaters. They slaughtered them ruthlessly, displaying the decaying bodies as a warning to anyone who dared to defy the Dark Lord. With terror he reigned.

But those "skirmishes" had merely been practice for the final battle, the end of the war. The Light struggled to prepare as Voldemort dined luxuriously, laughing at their failed attempts to destroy them. He waited patiently, calmly waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

That moment had came on an early August morning before the sun even had a chance to rise. Dew littered the plants, making them glisten as the two forces met each other on the Hogwarts' grounds, the chosen battlefield for the last and final battle. Though the school was not open yet for classes, many students stood among the ranks, fighting for either the Dark or the Light. Their future was to be decided in this one fight.

Hermione stayed close to Harry and Ron; they had ordered her to. It was a plan they had set up at the end of their sixth year. If one of them were about to fall, one of them would help the other. But the plan did not work.

In the end, Hermione could not help either of them. The Death Eaters had attacked ruthlessly, killing them off one by one. Ron had been the first to die by Dolohov's wand. Hermione watched helplessly as the killing curse struck him in the chest, she herself being engaged in a nasty battle with none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Nice one, mudblood," he had taunted her, "too bad your vast knowledge couldn't save Weasel." He had smirked and Hermione felt the last of her control began to fade away as Ron's dying image raced through her head.

With blazing fury, she had shouted out "Sectumsempra!" and Draco had fallen to his knees on the ground, his cried lost among the many others wounded in the early morning. She stood over him and watched, emotionless, as the blood poured steadily through his open wounds. He looked into her eyes as he died, taking one last rugged breath into his body before collapsing onto the hard ground tainted with his blood.

'It was necessary,' she told herself as the cries of the battle reached her ears. 'This is war, it's your life or theirs.' But no excuse she made for the murder she committed could erase the grief and pain that welled up inside of her at the site of his inert body. Yes, he was her enemy, but he also a person.

As she turned, forcing her eyes away from the horrid sight, her eyes had locked onto another battle taking place. A battle for dominance, power, and the overall sense of victory. Light verses Dark; good verses evil; Voldemort, the Dark Lord, verses Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived.

Hermione had watched helplessly as curse after curse was thrown. An avid array of colorful spells danced in the early morning, lighting the area around them. Both watched their opponent carefully, sizing them up, and judging where and what curse was to be thrown next in an attempt to overthrow the other.

At Harry's hip, Godric Gryffindor's sword shone in the night, a parting gift from Dumbledore before he had been killed. He had yet to draw it and Hermione had wondered why. A mortal weapon, Dumbledore had told them long ago, would be the Dark Lord's downfall.

Voldemort had struck suddenly, neither Harry nor Hermione saw it coming. The green light had rushed out of his wand, aimed at Harry. But Harry had enough time to send off a killing curse of his own, the two green lights meeting between them.

The 'crack' had been deafening, the explosion thunderous. Many had stopped in the middle of their battles to turn and watch as the white light from the explosion lit up the sky, brighter than the sun. Hermione had rushed forward, Harry's name escaping from her lips.

An invisible force had struck her, forcing her back. She tried to break through the unseen barrier but she was thrown back every time. She stood outside of the barrier and watched as the white light brightened before dimming, her eyes searching.

When the smoke and light had cleared, Hermione's knees had grew week. On the ground laid the lifeless bodies of the Dark Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter, their eyes wide open and staring up at the morning sky, the sun just beginning to rise.

Hermione had fell to her knees beside of her best friend, the battle raging on around her but paid it no heed. Her best friend carried the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulder's and was now dead because of it. He died for them….

The tears had started then, a steady stream pouring down over her cheeks and onto the blood-soaked grass. She had bent over top of him, hugging him close to her, feeling his cold skin. She sobbed his name over and over as the rain began to fall.

How long she had set there, she did not know. The battle had long ago ended, the remaining Death Eaters had fled after catching site of Voldemort's body. The sky was dark, the thunder clouds moving slowly in the sky. No stars were visible in the stormy sky above, hidden behind the clouds.

"Oh Harry…," Hermione whispered softly, stroking his brow, "….why? Why are you leaving me…. Please don't leave me….. I'm lost without you."

A hand closed over her shoulder, startling her out of her reverie. Hermione spun around, wand drawn, and met the amber eyes of the werewolf. "Hermione…," he gasped.

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked anxiously as she saw his pained expression. "Are you alright, Professor? Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?"

"Hermione…you have to change it…," he held his side as his breath came in short gasps, his amber eyes pained. "It's…all…up…to y...you."

"Professor Lupin? What are you saying? What's up to me?" Hermione noticed the blood on his hand and gingerly removed it from his wound. It was caked with dry blood, even while the warm liquid continued to seep from it. "We have to get you help, Professor."

"No…not enough time." His amber eyes locked onto hers. "You are…you are the only one Hermione…. It's meant to be…."

"What's meant to be, Professor?" Hermione cried. "What am I supposed to do? Everyone's dead, I can't do anything Professor."

"Yes, you can." He pressed something gold into the palm of her hand, squeezing her fingers tightly around it. "Take this…you have to do this….you're supposed to…"

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't understand. What am I supposed to do?"

"Love him."

The last thing she saw was the amber orbs of his eyes rolling back into his head before everything went black.

Remember to share the love by reviewing...from here on out, the chapters will get longer. Much love, Amaya