Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I shall die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.

Hermione sat in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place as the skies thundered over head. The half full coffee mug in front of her had sat cold for a while now. She was oblivious.

Drip, drip, drip, drip.

Hermione raised her eyes slowly to see that one of the windows had been blown open by the strong gale. She forced herself to stand and took slow mechanical steps to the window. She pulled it closed and was startled by the sudden quietness in the kitchen. It felt odd to not hear anything. Grimmauld Place had always been lively and loud. Always full of laughter, conversations, bangs from the Twin's room, Mrs Black's portrait screaming or even Kreacher's grumbling.

It was quiet now. The Dark Lord was gaining power, and the air was tense. No one had any real conversations anymore, just mumbled questions about the other side and hushed conversations about the war.

Hermione didn't like it. Not one bit.

It explained why she contemplating this. Why she was even letting the idea bounce around in her head. She drew out the small vial filled with violet liquid and stared at the label. Essence of Wolfsbane.

Just then, Mrs Weasley bustled into the kitchen. "Oh Hermione dear, what are you doing in here?"

Startled, Hermione stashed the vial behind her back. "I-I was, er, just thinking" she mumbled.

Fortunately, Mrs Weasley mistook the reason for her nervousness. "Now now, Hermione dear, it's going to be alright. We just have to hang in there for a minute" she said sympathetically.

Hermione nodded mutely, not trusting herself to talk.

"Now, why don't you go upstairs to have a bit of a lay down? I'm sure you'll feel better, I'll call you down when dinner's ready." her tone left no room for argument.

"But I-" Hermione tried to think of an excuse but was but was cut off.

"Don't be stubborn dear, you look so tired, trust me, you'll benefit from it" Mrs Weasley softly urged her towards the wooden door. This time, Hermione didn't resist.

She walked up the creaky stairs to her bedroom. Once inside she paced the room like a caged animal, thoughts swirling in her head like tornadoes.

She gave up after awhile and laid down on her bed. Sleep took her in it's arms.

"Dinner! Dinner, everyone!" Hermione woke to the sound of Mrs Weasley calling everyone to supper.

Her breathing hitched, it was time. It was her only chance.

She walked down the steps slowly. Regretting the decision she had made. Dreading the action she would take.

When she arrived at the dining room, she saw she was the last to arrive. The Twins, Ginny, Harry, Ron and Mr Weasley were already seated. Sirius, Remus and Tonks were taking their seats.

"Go on, sit down, my dear" Mrs Weasley was behind her, levitating some of the dishes onto the table.

Hermione's mouth dried. She had to do this. She had to do this. She had to do this. She had to do this.

Clearing her throat she said to the red headed witch "I'll help you with that" Mrs Weasley looked startled, but didn't stop her as she walked towards the kitchen.

On the stone counter was a big pot. Inside was the infamous Weasley stew. No one missed out on this, it would be empty in an hour, the contents inside of all the house hold members' stomachs.

Hermione pulled out the vial and pulled the stopper out with shaky hands. She stared at her hand holding vial above the pot. She stared at it for a few long seconds. Oh how selfish she was.

The vial slipped.

Just then, Mrs Weasley walked in. "Are you quite alright, dear?" Hermione watched as Mrs Weasley produced a spoon and stirred the stew, unknowingly spreading the poison. Mrs Weasley sighed, "I think you're sick. Are you feeling alright?"

Hermione looked at her with blank eyes. "Yes. I think I'll skip supper though, if you don't mind." Her voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

"No, of course not dear. If you want a pepper up potion or a calming draught we have plenty."

Hermione shook her head mechanically. "No thank you"

She watched as Mrs Weasley levitated the pot and set it down on the table. Everyone oohed and ahhed as they hadn't had it in a while. She turned around and walked back to her room as her only friends and surrogate family eagerly scooped out a serving of death.

An hour later, Hermione, who was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling, heard footsteps as the Weasley clan retired to their bedrooms.

She wanted to scream, to tell them not to sleep, lest they never wake up again.

Instead, she lay as still as a statue as each poisoned person climbed into their beds, their soon to be coffins.

No one would wake in the morning.

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A/N: This was going to be continued, and I had the second chapter up however I felt like there is nothing more to the story so I'll end it here. I'm looking for some more story inspiration so if you have any ideas please tell me :)

See you soon,

Queen of Faerie