main character - Hermione

2nd character - Minerva

Not slash!

Rating T (because i didn't know what else to put it as)

Just something i chucked together on my break at work.

Dust was thrown up in the air, split through with flashes of green, red and gold. Frantic looks going between friends and enemies. The air echoed and throbbed, pulsing with a magical maelstrom.

A young woman, just turned 17 that year, was in the thick of it, firing curses and counter curses, protection spells and disarming spells. Her body was thin, as though she hadn't been fed properly in far too long. Her face, which was once healthily rounded, was now all but skeletal. Hair that had once been frizzy and wild, was limp, laying in loose ringlets; dull and lifeless, matching her brown eyes. Her clothing was torn and ragged, blood spattered and dirt encrusted. All visible skin was dirty, blood smeared, scarred. She looked like she wasn't sure why she was still fighting. But she was. She was still holding up, fighting with her all, and doing it without resorting to dark curses.

Her back collided with another, and she turned, her wand immediately at the throat of one Minerva McGonagall. The older woman didn't recognise her at first, but when she did her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent O. The young girl didn't notice the look, she'd grabbed the woman's robes and yanked her into the frame, stunning the death eater behind her and protecting them both at the same time. She released the older woman, moving on, her ears ringing with residual magic as she lamped a death eater, that had gotten too close, in the face. Anyone that she had come up against was body bound on the floor of the great hall.

When it was finally all over, when the dust settles and the noise died down, shock set in. The shaking started deep in the girl's bones. Slowly, one finger at a time, she released her wand, dropping it. Staring down at it with a dull ache in her chest. A slow trickle of blood slid through her hair, down her forehead, blurring her left eye.

What now? What was there to do after it was all over? Ron was with his family, bundled up crying over their lost brother. Harry was sat on the floor, starring at Lupin and Tonks' lifeless forms. Survivors clung to each other. Family, friends, lovers... everyone had someone.

Her ears were still ringing, but she heard someone saying her name. Her eyes looked up, blinking in an effort to try and clear the blood away, unsuccessfully. A pair of emerald green eyes gazed back at her. The lips of her once favourite teacher moved, repeating her name as she slowly reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Her wand flew back into her hand and she pointed it at the older woman. People around them were starting to take notice of what was going on. They could see the girl's wild frantic eyes, the unmistakable shaking of her too skinny frame, the wand glowing red as she pointed it at the professor . Her chest heaving, her spare hand clutching it. Her legs wobbled, the wand knocked out of her hand, a warm body against her own, holding her up.

"It's ok, I've got you Hermione," Minerva McGonagall whispered in her ear, and the girl broke. Sobs racked her body as she clung on for dear life.

Please R&R