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Victim of the Fall	By : PrettyDesdemona Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 32726 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any of its characters. I do not make any money off this story. Only love!

Chapter List
- 36
- 37
- 38
CHAPTER 37

REPRIEVE

“Oh, to grow up hypnotized and then try to shake yourself awake. Because you can sense what has been lost. Because you can sense what is at stake.”

Hermione pushed herself to her feet, her bleeding hands grating against the gravel of the road, ignoring the questions shot at her by the tovarasi. She approached the dome again, tentatively, never moving close enough for the flares that were now pulsing out regularly to touch her. She knew it was Harry’s doing, as if he’d engaged some defense mechanism in the half sphere. It was almost dormant when they had arrived. But how did one combat blood magic? What could she do to move through this barrier? She thought of all the instances she could remember wherein protective enchantments were brought down, but they were all minor, flimsy things compared to this. The only one she could think of that would even begin to match its strength was the dome that covered Hogwarts before the beginning of the Final Battle. And that had been brought down by a volley of strong attacks combined with Voldemort’s raw outpouring of power.

So perhaps that’s what she needed? A raw outpouring of power.

“Hermione?” said Juliet from behind her.

Hermione turned towards the younger girl’s voice and found that Juliet was not in fact looking at her, but around the environment they were standing in.

“What is it?”

“It’s just… Doesn’t it seem a little quiet to you?” asked Juliet fearfully.

Hermione stopped to listen and noted immediately that Juliet was right. Sure, it was the middle of the night, but there were no lights in windows, no sound other than the insects and the wind. There was an unnatural emptiness to the street. She sensed that they were entirely alone; Privet Drive was deserted, abandoned. Where were all the muggles? Even the street lights were out.

Her consciousness floated outward from her body, attempting to sense out the living things around her. But aside from the tovarasi, there was nothing. Her mind touched on no other heartbeat, she felt no other pulse. The street and the houses on it were uninhabited.

Hermione turned back to the dome and directed her mind now to drift over to it, lazily, in an attempt to better feel the magic that radiated off it. She came across a number of spells she did not recognize, but there were one of two that she did.

“He’s put up muggle repelling charms…” she said lowly, without looking back at the group. “Strong ones. We’re alone.”

She wondered how long Privet Drive had been his refuge. For the power to be out, for it to be completely empty, suggested that the muggles had been avoiding the place for some time. Hermione realised then that it was cunningly done. Had he chosen to murder the muggles, or hurt them in some way, the ministry would have known about it immediately. But as it was, there was no suspicion at all. The muggles just simply did not come to this part of Surrey anymore. Was this Harry’s doing or Voldemort’s? It was irrelevant but Hermione could not help but question the motives behind the charm. Had it been Harry’s desire to move the muggles out of harm’s way or Voldemort’s need for seclusion?

Either way, at least this meant, in the end, that there were fewer innocents that might get hurt in the coming confrontation.

That was provided that she could actually get through the barriers he’d put up.

“An outpouring of power…” Hermione whispered to herself. This was what she needed. But how? She could hardly cast stupefy at this monstrous half sphere of light and expect it to do anything…

“What was that?” asked Ron of her whisper.

Hermione shook her head, frowning, “I don’t know what to do… I need to destroy these enchantments or move through them, but I can’t think how!”

Her head fell into her hands, the smells, sounds and feelings reverberating from all around her were beginning to get frustrating. She just wanted her mind to be clear so that she could think.

“Well isn’t it obvious?” said Draco with a hint of that old sarcasm she was familiar with. “Use Auxilium, Hermione.”

Her head snapped up to look at him, standing slightly apart from the group and glowing eerily in the darkness. “Do you think that will work?” she asked quietly.

“Could it really hurt to try?” Draco responded with a shrug. Hermione sensed immediately that this way the wrong thing to say as far as the rest of the group were concerned.

“Yes! Of course it could!” hissed Padma, “That’s the whole point isn’t it?! Hermione needs to get from one side to the other without getting hurt! You can’t just use some random spell!”

The other’s voice rose in agreement but she knew that Draco was right, really. Without a qualified curse breaker, they didn’t have much hope if not for the Dividing Line magic.

Hermione looked back at the dome, fear seething through her blood. It was really the only logical path to take…

She pushed her beaded bag into Isobel’s hands and walked forward towards the dome, ignoring the protests coming from behind her. She’d have to work fast if she managed to get close enough for her to be on the Dividing Line of the enchantment. If she did not, a flare would throw her away again before she managed to cast the spell, which, while not lethal, was inconvenient. When she was close, Hermione broke into a halting jog, ducking and weaving to avoid the flares that lashed out at her. This meant that at times, she was running parallel to the dome rather than towards it. She yearned, then, that she might have given Quidditch a better try.

Finally, Hermione managed to get close enough for the heat of the spells to make her sweat profusely, as if she were standing too close to an open fire. She skidded to a halt mere inches from the wall of light, dropped to the ground and pointed her wand at the asphalt below her.

“AUXILIUM!!” she cried and instantly, she was able to see thick ropes of light flying out of the ground to sink into her skin as the familiar warmth spread up her legs. The spell had worked.

Hermione instantly willed herself to be protected from the lashings of the protective enchantments and, to her joy; she saw a shimmering transparent sphere form around her. The flames licked around the outside of her cage and she felt their pressure trying to force her backwards but she resisted.

For a moment, she was totally overcome by the brilliance of what she was witnessing. From all sides, colour and light pressed in on her, shifting and contorting with the constant movement of the flares and again she was almost crippled with the feeling that these visions could not be of this earth. They were otherworldly, devastating and magical. She was seeing colours she never knew had existed before that moment and could not have identified them even if she’d tried.

“Hermione, are you ok?!” cried Luna from behind her.

“Did it work?!” demanded Draco.

“What are you seeing?” asked Ron fretfully.

In a flash of understanding, Hermione realised what she must look like to the tovarasi, who could not see the magic. All they could see was her and she was currently turning slowly on the spot staring around herself at apparently empty space reverentially. Without really thinking, shedecided to try something, sick of being the eyes of the group. She turned to look at them and willed them to see what she was seeing.

Every one of them suddenly gasped. Their eyes widened. Ron was brought to his knees; Luna looked at once filled with a joy so intense, her face crumpled; Padma hid her face in Eli’s chest; Juliet cried out; Susan backed away; Isobel began to cry in earnest; Blaise stared on with open mouthed shock ; and Draco actually laughed aloud and covered his mouth with his hands. It was as if all of the terror and knowledge of their current situation had quite simply fallen away from their minds. To Hermione, they all looked like they were staring into the face of God. Which, really, was half true.

Hermione reached out with her magic and urged them all to come to her, just as she had done with Draco all those months ago in her flat. They watched as the green glowing tendrils flew towards them and wrapped around them affectionately, pulling them towards her sanctuary. One by one, they moved, walking zombielike into her spherical cage which widened at Hermione’s thought to accommodate them.

“What is this?” asked Ron in awe, staring around at the blinding colour that was slithering and cracking against the outside of their sanctuary.

“This is magic.” Hermione replied reverentially, “This is what is around us all the time, Ron. See the tendrils? That’s how we interact with the world. That’s how we engage with it.”

Ron did not reply to this but, as he stared around at the reality of their world, his hand fell around hers and grasped her fingers. Hermione felt his warmth flying through her veins, making her knees almost buckle under the flood of emotion, of love.

Hermione could do nothing for a few moments but stare at his face as he watched the magic. He was beautiful.

“Shall we move on?” she asked of the group quietly, after a moment of this.

Their eyes found hers, each and every one of them wide with awe and reverence. They seemed entirely incapable of speech.

Luna nodded dumbly, “Harry.” she whispered slowly.

“Yes. Harry.” Hermione confirmed softly. They could not falter in their purpose.

They were, after all, still standing on one side of the Dividing Line, pressed up against the light of the dome. How they were going to get to the other side was a problem she didn’t quite know how to solve at that point. She could only hope she could lead her tovarasi through the enchantment safely. As was always prudent, as she had come to learn of Dividing Line magic, she let her instincts lead her.

“Stay behind me.” she urged of the group, her voice filling the sphere.

Hermione moved forwards, willing the cage to move with her and the tovarasi. They huddled in a group behind her, following with reluctant, cautious steps. The colour around them was moving sickeningly faster past them, giving the impression that they were all traveling at great speed though Hermione knew this was not the case. Together, they reached the barrier, the true Dividing line, and Hermione panicked as she felt the enchantments burning into the magic that protected her and her friends. She knew it was not going to work. She knew that the cage was going to fail and she would be protected while her tovarasi were killed.

Her mind span off in several different directions, each leading to a dead end, as she tried desperately to think of something to do. None of it worked. For some reason, all she could think of was every other occasion on which she’d been a hair’s breadth away from death. Every other occasion she’d experienced physical pain at the hand of another. Her trauma afflicted brain wouldn’t let her do what she did best because it was too busy being triggered into despair and anguish…

All at once she was suddenly filled with an insane fury, a catastrophic rage. Why was her brain trauma afflicted at all? Why was it that she needed to do this? Why was she so broken in the first place? Of course, it began and ended with Voldemort and the damage he’d inflicted upon wizarding society. But no one else would die at Voldemort’s hand. Nothing was going to stop her getting to him and tearing what remained of his soul to shreds.

Hermione felt her feet leave the ground as she allowed these feelings to fill up her body, to set her skin on fire. As she allowed her instincts to seize total control of her body. She could hear the panicked cries of the tovarasi beneath her as she rose towards the room of the protective sphere, but she willed that they be kept safe, that the magic would not harm them. Their sanctuary walls became impenetrable and almost opaque in their brightness. But Hermione drifted through them easily, away from the tovarasi. She rose up into the air, exposed and vulnerable. The dome of light stood before her and she felt the flames of its power licking at her skin.

But this was nothing to her. She absorbed the flames, took on their heat and allowed them to scorch her soul. Hermione began gathering; gathering the power, gathering her thoughts, her emotions. From the depths of her psyche she pulled all of the most horrible memories, the worst of her pain and her heartbreak. She allowed her trauma afflicted brain to run rampant. She put all this into a steadily growing ball of fire and ice that was building in her chest. The memory of Bellatrix’s Crucio joined the knot, as did her heartbreak over Ron, the images of Fred Weasley’s face frozen in death, her parent’s absence, her own yearning for death, Draco’s betrayal, every panic attack she’d ever had, every tear she’d ever wept, ever injury she’d ever sustained. All of it absorbed into the orb of pure chaos that sat in her chest, feeling like it was cracking her ribs, stopping her heart, constricting her lungs…

But even after all that, even when she felt like she was about to split at the seams from all the raw magic she held inside of her, it wasn’t enough. The power of the dome was too much and she was too weak. The flames were burning now, and the pain was fogging up her mind. She couldn’t do it… She’d failed.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, when Hermione was just on the brink of giving in and allowing the power of the dome of light to kill her, she felt something. New memories were joining the ever growing knot of chaos…

There was Eli, dirty and skeletal, trying to shield a crying woman from the scabbed and rotting hands of a Dementor reaching towards her. The determination on his face was almost eclipsed by the fear and despair. The woman was begging and he was whispering savagely to her, “It’s alright mum. I won’t let it touch you…”

This morphed and changed into an image of Isobel standing on the edge of a circle of onlookers as Voldemort turned his wand on a tall blonde man. Someone was holding her back, though she wanted to run and cast herself between her father and the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters that surrounded her, ones that had called her father a friend, were laughing and jeering cruelly, drowning out her pleading cries. There was a flash of green light and her father crumpled to the ground…

Isobel’s anguished scream echoed through to the next memory where Padma sat, paralyzed in a chair in the muggle studies classroom. She watched on, unable to move for the petrificus totalas that had been placed upon her, as Amicus Carrow brought down a hammer onto each of Parvati’s fingers individually. She listened to her sister screaming and begging, knowing that she was unable to do anything to prevent it, knowing that she could offer no consolation and no solace afterwards…

The scene dissolved and Hermione’s stomach churned as she watched Susan being forced onto the ground, pinned by a group of men in a desolate landscape. She listened as Susan begged and pleaded, her cries echoing through the night. She heard the scream that tore apart her world at the first brutal, life destroying thrust…

Juliet was standing, staring across the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts as tears coursed down her face. The world was quiet but for her soft sniffles. She bent and gauged out a chunk of earth with her wand. Inside the hole she placed a letter before depositing the earth over the top as she whispered, “I’ll always love you…”

The image of Juliet faded into a scene of devastation and Hermione recognized it as the aftermath of the final battle. Blaise stood in the entrance of the great hall, a look of shock and pain lining his dark features as he took in the sight of mourning, the dead bodies and their weeping families. He caught sight of Ginny Weasley, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder. They locked eyes, Ginny’s filled with hatred and accusation. Hermione could almost hear the dialogue that passed between the young witch and wizard. You could have fought to prevent this, but you did not.

Blaise’s face blinked away into a darkness that was filled with screams. Luna materialized on a stone floor, masked and faceless death eaters stood around her, each taking it in turns to utilize the torture curse on the defenseless young woman…

After that, there was a moment of blackness and Hermione knew then what was coming even before it hit. The darkness resolved into an image of Draco’s face, just his face. What followed was not one memory but what seemed to be every traumatic experience he’d ever faced, all flashing so quickly that she could barely make them out. She saw him being tortured and torturing others, saw him watching all manner of atrocities, unable to look away… Voldemort’s face flashed regularly, always contorted in a look of sadistic malevolence. Hermione felt Draco’s fear, potent and crippling. She felt it destroying him…

Suddenly, with a gasp, she found herself back in the present, looking around at the fire that was destroying her body. Her chest was constricted with the most unimaginable pain she’d ever experienced in her life. She no longer felt as if her body was tearing at the seams with all the pent up power, she now felt as if her whole body was about to detonate.

Then, just as she felt she couldn’t take it anymore, that’s exactly what it did. The knot of chaos in her chest ruptured and exploded catastrophically. And her soul went with it, Hermione physically felt it tearing. The protective enchantments screamed, cracked and the blast that followed caused the road of Privet Drive to splinter.

Hermione stared almost blindly down at the scene of devastation below her. The tovarasi were huddled in a tight group, the protective sphere around them fading now that the danger of the dome was gone.

She felt… Empty. Hollow. Her breath seemed to be coming out easier, like she’d been struggling for months and finally a blockage in her lungs had given way.

Her eyes swept the scene, watching as the magic of the protective enchantments ran down the road like water, as the tovarasi squinted around themselves, their cloaks flapping in the wind.

And in front of her, down on the street with his hands thrown up over his head, was Harry. At his feet, someone was curled up into a ball, trying to avoid the impact of the blast.

Hermione’s mind flew with a sudden blast of adrenalin. She rushed downwards to come between the tovarasi and the mad wizard, ready to deflect any spell he tried to throw their way. Her feet did not touch the ground as she moved forwards towards him, her face set hard. Her body was so light that she felt with every inhalation, she was taking in all the magic from her surroundings, and then exhaling it again, sending waves of her energy pulsing across the broken road. Her mind was clear, focused and sharp as a knife. It was lethal.

Harry’s eyes finally came to rest on her. He scowled and raised his wand, pointing it at the huddled figure on the ground.

“Come any closer and she dies!” he shouted across the distance.

But Hermione did not stop, if anything, she moved faster. “You think I care, Riddle?” she said with a manic laugh, “You think one life means anything to me?! I was there last time; I saw the world you wanted to build… So kill her! It won’t stop me killing you!!” she bellowed, her voice exploding from her chest and sending shock waves out around her.

Fear flashed across his face as she continued to move towards him. After a moment’s thought, his wand lifted to point at her. A jet of light exploded from its tip, but Hermione was ready for it. She flicked the spell away as if it were nothing more than a particularly annoying fly.

“Really think normal magic is going to do much here, Riddle? You’re going to have to be a little more inventive than that!” cried Hermione condescendingly.

To her surprise, Harry laughed, high and cold and the sound chilled her blood. “You forget who I am, girl.”

Hermione’s hands shook. “I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!! I KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE!!” she screamed, but he continued to laugh.

His wand arm dropped and suddenly there was something else in his hand. A tiny vial.

It was then that Hermione made a fatal mistake. She willed the vial to explode in his hands but it did not, no matter how much energy she poured into it. Then she remembered, the Dividing Line was gone. She’d disintegrated it moments before. And Auxilium did not work without the Dividing Line…

By the time she realised this however, it was already too late. The potion had disappeared down Harry’s throat.

For the briefest of moments, nothing happened and Hermione almost thought that whatever his plan was, it hadn’t worked. That it had backfired.

But then, a great pulse of power burst from Harry, sending her flying backwards, tumbling through the air. By the time she’d righted herself, her wand flying to her hand as she prepared to fight, she found, much to her confusion, that Harry was lying immobile on the ground.

Hermione stared for a moment at his inert body, trying to understand what had just happened, what Voldemort had been trying to achieved. Slowly, she drifted towards him warily, though he did not stir. But as she got closer, the huddled figure on the ground did.

Ginny’s red hair appeared from under her tattered cloak as the girl heaved herself to her feet. Hermione rushed forward, forgetting all restraint at the sight of her friend.

“Ginny! Are you alright?!” she cried in shakily. She heard the approaching footsteps of the tovarasi coming from behind her all crying out the red head’s name in relief as Hermione had done.

Ginny did not reply, simply taking a shaky breath as she swayed on her feet.

“Ginny?” Hermione said again, uncertainly, resting a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

Suddenly the younger girl’s hand shot out and wrapped around Hermione’s throat and she found herself looking into black, emotionless eyes.

“Sacrifice her now, mudblood.” said Harry’s voice from Ginny’s mouth.

Hermione gasped for breath, choking as she clawed desperately at the hands on her throat, much stronger than they usually would have been. They tightened.

Ginny then quickly pulled from her pocket a wand Hermione recognized. It was Harry’s. She pointed at the approaching group, who had broken into a sprint in order to help Hermione, their shouts and cries muffled in her ears.

“Protego Totalum!” she shouted and a silvery light burst from the wand’s tip. The anguished cries of the tovarasi echoed around the street when they found their way blocked.

“Do you see? Do you see now? This is why you are unworthy. This is why you mean nothing. My blood is pure therefore I may wield this power, a power that far outstrips your own. You are undeserving, stupid girl. Did you really expect to be able to stumble upon a hidden dark magic that I myself have not yet come across? Did you really expect to surprise me?” asked Ginny in Harry’s voice, “Now we are matched, our power is equal and we battle on intelligence alone. And you, mudblood, have lost.”

Ginny smiled grotesquely, her black eyes boring into Hermione’s soul. Harry’s sense of triumph was almost palpable in the air.

Hermione’s mind was beginning to fade, she could feel it, there was a black fuzz distorting the edges of her vision. The younger girl’s fingers were crushing her windpipe. Hermione was dying.

“FIGHT BACK, HERMIONE!!” screamed Ron from behind her, breaking through the clamor of the tovarasi’s frantic voices. “FIGHT BACK!!!”

Hermione felt the urge to defend herself rising in her throat like bile, but at the same time she could not bring herself to cast the myriad of violently defensive spells that sprung to her mind. No matter what she’d said to Harry, she could not just hurt Ginny. But try as she might she couldn’t think of anything to do that wouldn’t. The black fuzz was clogging up her mind, she couldn’t think properly at all. Panic was seizing up her limbs as the same totally useless spells kept presenting themselves to her. It was like she was back in first year. Someone was choking her, she was going to die and the only spells she could think of were alohamora and wingardium leviosa…

Hermione’s eyes began to water as the grief sunk into her skin. She grieved for her failure, for her own life that would soon be lost. She’d always heard people describing their near death experiences as having their lives flash before their eyes. Hermione did not feel that, she just felt stupid. She felt shame. But somewhere in the back of her mind, logic was slowly overriding the panic and the grief.

Suddenly, an idea came to her. She could use the bond.

Hermione focused her remaining energy then, and she converted it to love, all the love she felt for Ginny, how grateful she was for her, how much she respected her as a person. She willed the feelings to seep into the fingers that were slowly suffocating her, to travel through their bond, the bond they’d built over so long a time with their love and their trust.

Ginny’s grip mercifully slackened and Hermione took her chance. Hating herself with every inch of her being, she shoved her wand into Ginny’s ribs and thought, as hard as she could, “Repulsio.”

The repulsion jinx worked, Ginny’s hand disappeared from around her throat as if it had been burned and she stumbled backwards.

Hermione instantly withdrew as far as the shield charm would allow her, not wanting to stay within reach of Ginny’s powerful fists. She had only the briefest of moments to consider ripping apart the charm so as to allow the tovarasi access, before a curse whizzed past her ear and clattered against the barrier behind her. Her head was still spinning. She was still taking great gasps of air, trying to bring the oxygen back to her starved brain.

Hermione’s wand flew through the air, clumsily deflecting another attack. Ginny stood slightly below her, the wind whipping her red hair around her face like flames, her black eyes burning evilly.

All Hermione could do for a while was cast a number of shield charms as she attempted to get her bearings back. But eventually, her defense turned to offence.

Harry’s wand sliced through the air faster than Hermione had ever seen it as they dueled. The style of the magic Ginny was using had changed from Hermione’s earlier duel with Harry, it was more animalistic, more cruel, which led her to believe that Voldemort had almost taken him over entirely.

Suddenly, one of Hermione’s jinx’s flew under Ginny’s arm and cracked on her chest, sending the younger girl flying backwards. Hermione seized the opportunity and spun round, her hands digging into the shield charm and ripping it apart, just as she had done in the forest of Dean only days ago.

The tovarasi surged forward. Ropes flew from Isobel’s wand and landed on Ginny, who was just pushing herself to her feet. They wrapped around her body and she fell again, face first into the asphalt with an inhuman scream of fury.

Hermione rushed forwards, speeding through the air towards Harry’s immobile body.

“HOLD HIM!” she bellowed. Instantly Draco, Blaise and Ron fell on him, pinning his arms and legs to the ground. His wand clattered across the asphalt as she slapped it from his hand. She saw out of the corner of her eye, Ginny’s body still and knew before it had even happened that Harry would be back with them momentarily. Sure enough, after only a moment, Ron, Draco and Blaise’s grips tightened as Harry came fully back into himself and began to thrash wildly. His head cracked repeatedly against the road in his rage. He hurled abuse and curses at Hermione as she came to rest at his head. She placed her hands firmly on each of his temples and took a deep gulp of air.

With that, she forced herself into his mind in one exhaled breath. Her vision and her awareness of the present blinked out as the reality of Harry’s mind engulfed her.

Hermione felt mental barriers and protections snapping and disintegrating at her assault as she moved her consciousness like a knife through Harry’s psyche. His mind was nothing but noise and chaos, black tar and cancerous fog as she pushed on through the turmoil of memories, a combination of Voldemort’s and Harry’s.

Finally, abruptly, she reached a space that no noise seemed to reach. The silence was so complete that her ears rang with it. After the pandemonium of Privet Drive and then the disorder of the upper levels of Harry’s mind, this place was far too quiet and far too empty.

But strangely she knew it was where she needed to be. Just like Draco’s mind, she found herself to be standing in a vast cavernous space, but the darkness was more complete than that she’d previously experienced. She had the distinct impression of being unwelcome.

Hermione could do nothing but walk. Her footsteps did not echo, rather, they sounded muffled and she felt consciously as if there were other things moving along beside her that she could not see. Every now and then something would brush, ever so lightly, against her arm. Each time it made her jump.

But suddenly, she environment changed, though not perceptively. The feeling of it changed.

In what she assumed was the centre of the space, sat something she couldn’t quite make out. It was more of an idea than anything really tangible. But it was more tangible than the vague brushes on her arm as she had walked. She could feel it there, but she could also almost see, taste, smell and hear it.

And Hermione knew that this was the essence of a soul.

But now that she’d come down to it, now that she was faced with the last remnant of Voldemort, now that she was standing there in the very epicenter of Harry’s troubled mind, she didn’t quite know what to do. She did not know how to use her mind to rip apart Voldemort’s last link to life.

Hermione knew there was only one thing for it. Somehow she would have to push this malignant growth back into the wand from whence it came. Then it was nothing more than a Horcrux. Then, she knew how it could be destroyed.

But there was only one way she could think to achieve this, one way that she could move the fragment of Voldemort’s soul, unwillingly back into its home.

She’d have to take it on herself. Then, with the power of the Zeitei Otrava, she knew she could force it into the wand. From Harry’s mind no, but from her mind… Yes.

It was the only way.

Hermione walked forwards through the blackness towards this repulsive idea, towards the dull, throbbing beat of malevolence that sat in the middle of the space. Then, after a brief pause, she walked into it.

Instantly, she felt it sinking into her and she welcomed it, though it felt like the most vile, evil thing she’d ever done, worse than anything else. Voldemort’s essence was sniffing her out like a wary dog, riffling through her mind, through her memories tentatively. She opened herself to him. He pawed through her organs, tasted her blood, her power.

And she was not found wanting.

Suddenly, the presence filled her to the brink, nesting itself in her consciousness and Hermione knew she’d done it, knew she had succeeded. Voldemort was inside her. His soul had become a part of her.

Without a second thought, apart from a flash of self righteous fury, Hermione violently and fiercely yanked herself out of Harry’s mind, feeling her own snap back painfully into her body.

She opened her eyes.

The scene was too loud, too busy. She couldn’t handle it. She immediately wanted the silence of Harry’s mind back again. The tovarasi were rushing to and fro, huddling around Ginny and Harry both of whom were unconscious, Padma already casting diagnostic’s on them. Only Draco was looking at her.

“Is it done?” he asked lowly and the heads of the rest of the group snapped up to look at her. Suddenly, the scene was still and quiet.

She nodded dumbly and slumped backwards, her head spinning. She could still feel Voldemort all through her body, singing through her blood. But there was something else…

“How did you do it Hermione? How did you destroy it?” asked Ron seriously and with a touch of awe.

She could not speak, could not answer him. There was something happening inside her that was seizing all of her attention.

Draco’s eyes widened slightly. “She hasn’t destroyed it.” he said softly, “She’s taken it into herself…”

A wave of fear and panic swept off the group and cascaded over Hermione, only serving to confuse her further and make her head feel like it was about to fall off her shoulders.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Isobel, “What is he talking about Hermione?!”

But again, Hermione did not answer.

She stood, feeling the ground fall away under her feet as she rose into the air, feeling all at once a full awareness of the power she held. Her emotions were boiling to the surface as she realised something. Something catastrophic. Voldemort, the greatest dark wizard to have ever lived, was one kind of powerful. As was Grindelwald. And Dumbledore too… But she, Hermione Granger, was now another kind. The ultimate kind. The apocalyptic kind. Because she had taken him in, taken in his knowledge and his power, but she also had her own. And, because she was a woman, she had the Goddess’s Line, the one magic that had always been closed to Voldemort and Grindelwald and Dumbledore. They, who had been unworthy, who were nothing but mere men trying to play with the fabric of reality, mortality and morality.

And they’d failed.

But she wouldn’t if she tried.

Instead of a Dark Lord, the wizarding world could have a Queen.

A sense of jubilation, of triumph echoed through Hermione’s body. No one would be able to defeat her, no one would be able to bring her down. The tone of male supremacy that ran through the wizarding world would be crushed under her power. And they would not be able to resist… They would have no choice but to bow down.

Hermione’s eyes fell on the tovarasi, her most loyal subjects. Would they stand behind her in the new age that she could create? Would they truly understand this blinding vision of the future she was having?

A fleeting thought floated through the back of her mind though, as she looked down at them. Why did they all have their wands out? Did they think to fight her?

The tovarasi stared up at her and she down at them. The silence was thick with their terror and her power.

Slowly, Draco stepped forward, away from the group and she sunk down towards him until they were almost face to face. He was so close she could almost taste his kiss…

“My lord?” he breathed so that only she might hear.

Hermione stared at him for a long time. Her mind had slowed to a halt at what he’d said. His tone had been unmistakable. It was reverential.

“I am no lord.” she hissed.

Her voice was high and cold and it was that fact that made reality suddenly crash back through her mind, breaking this trance that she’d been in, snapping her thoughts out of Voldemort’s lies, wielding the bluntest of instruments. The truth.

She was Hermione Granger. Not a Dark Queen. She was kind and compassionate and stubborn and smart. She loved Ron and Draco, she loved her friends, she was trying to save Harry and Ginny.

The part of Voldemort inside her screamed in protest as she pushed it into a corner, no longer influenced by its poison.

Hermione lunged at his wand, that lay on the asphalt. The moment her fingers closed around the thin stick of wood she used all of her will, every ounce of her strength and power to tear the piece of soul out of her psyche and push it into the object in her hands.

It felt as if she were literally bleeding herself out, pushing out every single part of herself. Once it was gone, once the presence was no longer filling her veins, she almost wanted to cry with the grief of it.

As the last of Voldemort’s blackened and broken essence left her body, a great sigh heaved out of her chest and she looked back at her moment of insanity with fear. What she had just done was dangerous, what if her willpower had not been enough?

Hermione produced her own wand from her pocket and laid Voldemort’s on the ground in front of her, trying to keep her colossal grief at bay.

“Fende Ignis.” she whispered as softly as she could, her voice breaking.

A tiny flaming bird erupted from the end of her wand and landed on the ground, instantly growing rapidly, multiplying with terrific speed.

When it hit the white wood of Voldemort’s wand, Hermione heard, with an air of anticlimactic finality, a distant and resounding scream.

The Horcrux, the last piece of Voldemort that remained in their world, was destroyed.

“Abit Dyabolum.” she incanted and the fiend fire burnt out with a puff of whitish smoke.

She stared down at the burnt husk that bled a vile black liquid onto the road.

“It’s over.” she said softly to her companions, “It’s done.”

Hermione felt soft, affectionate hands on her shoulders. She turned around to see Ron staring down at her in concern.

“Fiend fire.” he said quietly.

Hermione nodded dumbly. “The instructions were written in one of the books Draco leant me… I thought it might come in handy…” The echo in her voice was fading. The potion was finally wearing off. She was so tired…

“How did… how did you help? With the barrier?” she asked of the tovarasi, her voice rasping.

“Draco gave us the potion.” said Isobel, staring wide eyed down at the pile of ash that had once been a Horcrux. “It didn’t work as well for us as it did for him but… It helped…”

Hermione turned her head to look at Draco but he was staring down at the ground at his feet, a deep and disturbed frown creasing forehead.

Only she knew why he frowned. Only she knew what he’d said.

But she was too tired to think about that now, to think about Draco’s final betrayal. And it had been a betrayal… His tone had not been fearful, it had been reverent, a tone of worship.

She looked back down at her scratched and bloodied hands, feeling more and more human as the moments ticked on. The scents were fading… The colour was almost gone…

Suddenly, Ron’s head snapped up when a series of loud pops announced the apparition of a series of Aurors and the Minister. Hermione looked up only momentarily to ascertain that it was not any further danger.

“Padma?” she breathed, her eyelids drooping. Padma rushed to her side. “Is… is Ginny ok?”

“She’ll be fine.” said Padma, her voice thick with emotion.

“And Harry?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Hermione nodded sadly. “I think… I think I’d like to sleep now.” she said quietly, her eyes unfocused. Before anyone could respond, her head lolled sideways on her shoulder as she pitched sideways. Ron caught her before she hit the road.

The vibrant colour of her dreams took her.

A/N It's not the end, don't worry! But oh my god guys, where have my reviewers gone?! I was sad to see so little feedback :(

Come on! I need my cheer squad into the end! I need your love and support!!

Much love, as always,

Desdemona

tabitoo - Well... He did his part I suppose lol.

Kain - Ok, that review WAS kind of short. And my soul weeps every time I get a short review from you... Hermisobel!!! YES! I love it! I might just have to go ahead and create a new pairing... Hehe... Spot on with everything else there babe, as usual. Much love to you!!! Oh and by the way... I was wondering the other night... Do you actually read my replies to your reviews? lol. xoxox

Aranel - Sorry it took so long! My little sister is staying with me at the moment. She's like a 17 year old version of me and she's just so damn engaging and adorable that I couldn't write for a couple of days lol. I hope you liked this chapter though!! xx

anaidra - So he did kind of do something in the end... He gave the tovarasi some of the Zeitei Otrava... But somehow I don't see that as being what you were going for lol. xx

The quote at the beginning of this chapter is from Ani Difranco's song Reprieve. Her music has served as a huge inspiration for this piece. I own nothing. Thanks Ani!
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Victim of the Fall