Harry felt the cold earth under his cheek. The memory of Kings Cross station and Dumbledore's sage words lingering in the back of his mind. How long had he been gone? It felt like years but didn't seem more than a few moments. The smell of the forest filled his nostrils. The hinge of his glasses, which had been knocked sideways by the fall, were cutting into his temple. Every inch of him ached, and the place where Killing Curse had hit him felt like the bruise of a heavyweight boxer's punch.

He did not stir, though his heart thumped heavily in his chest. His left arm was bent out at an awkward angle and his lips parted, breathing in the taste of stale dirt. He had expected to hear a cheer of triumph and jubilation at his death but instead hurried footsteps, whispers, and solicitous murmurs filled the air.

"My Lord...My Lord..." It was Bellatrix's voice, soft and low as though she spoke to a lover. Harry did not dare open his eyes but allowed his other senses to explore his predicament. He knew that his wand was still stowed beneath him because he could feel it pressed between his chest and the ground. He could feel the rough bark of the tree Hermione had been tied to pressed painfully against his thigh but couldn't hear her soft scraping breath anymore.

"My Lord..."

"That will do," Voldemort's harsh yet hushed tone. More footsteps. Several people were backing away from the same spot. Desperate to see what was happening and why. Harry opened his eyes barely a millimeter.

Voldemort seemed to be getting to his feet. Various Death Eaters were hurrying away from him, returning to the crowd lining the clearing. Bellatrix alone remained behind, kneeling beside him nearly beside herself on what to do. Harry closed his eyes again and considered what he had seen. The Death Eaters had been gathered around Voldemort, who seemed to have fallen to the ground. Something had happened when he had hit Harry with the Killing Curse.

Had Voldemort too collapsed? It appeared that way. Had the both of them briefly fallen unconscious? Then subsequently return?

"My Lord, let me -"

"I do not require assistance," Voldemort's cold tone cut through the air like a whip, and Bellatrix withdrew her helpful hand. "The boy...Is he dead?"

There was a complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached dared to approach, but he felt their concentrated gaze. It seemed to press him harder into the ground, and he was terrified a finger or an eyelid might twitch. He strained his ears, trying to hear anything else. His mind turning to his friend who was so close beside him but he could not reach.

"You!"

Narcissa jolted with a small shriek resisting the urge to cover her arm from where Voldemort had cast a rather sharp bolt into her.

"Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."

Harry did not know who had been sent to verify. He could only lie there, with his heart thumping traitorously, and wait to be examined. He took small comfort that Voldemort was wary of approaching him, that Voldemort suspected that all had not gone to plan.

Hands, softer than he had been expecting, touched his face. He could hear the woman's fast breathing, her pounding heart pressing against his ribs through her hand into his own.

"Is Draco truly alive? Is he really hidden in the castle?" Her whisper was barely audible, her lips an inch from his scar. He could smell her hair under his nose obscuring his face from the view of the onlookers.

"Yes," he breathed back. He felt the hand on his back contract, her nails piercing him slightly.

Narcissa made to withdraw when a soft round dot appeared on the back of her hand. Hot and red, it caused her hand to jump slightly before she very carefully adjusted her gaze upward. A small stream of blood was dripping slowly down from the nose of the girl's turned head. Her eyes were closed and there was no pain upon her brow. Her eyes didn't linger long enough to tell if she were breathing.

"He is dead!" Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers. Her hand pulled back slowly and she came as gracefully as she could manage to her feet.

There was a small pause before the Death Eaters let out a raucous roar of triumph. through his eyelids, Harry saw bursts of red and silver light shoot into the air in celebration. Still feigning death on the ground, he understood. Narcissa knew that the only way she would be permitted to enter Hogwarts and find her son; was as part of the conquering army. She no longer cared whether Voldemort won.

"You see?" screeched Voldemort over the tumult. "Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now!"

Hermione's eyes cracked open to the loud roar of the people around her. Her head was throbbing painfully from having suppressed the scream that had torn through her throat at Harry's downfall. Though she hadn't seen the actual blow, she had felt him fall beside her leg still; the green light crackling against his back before disappearing inside him. She had never actually seen anyone struck down with the killing curse so close before, she hadn't any frame of reference to compare it to.

Her eyes turned down, unable to really move her head, she could feel the blood draining down from her nose and watched a drop of it fall onto the back of Harry's jacket. It took all the strength inside her to shift her foot to press against his side. She hadn't heard Narcissa's proclamation and thus didn't know whether he was alive or dead. She pressed her toe up against the top of her trainer and waited for a sign. Red and Green sparks shot into the air around them as the Death Eater's celebrated their victory. She desperately wanted to know if her theory had been correct, not for the sake of knowledge but rather to know that she hadn't sat back and blatantly let her friend die when she could have possibly done something to prevent it.

Her heart jumped when she felt the smallest twitch of muscle against her foot. She pressed again just to make sure that he truly was alive and felt the same flexing muscle in response. She could have cried out in relief if she hadn't heard someone approaching. Deciding that it was perhaps for the best that Voldemort believed he got two deaths for one, she closed her eyes again and went completely still. Her breathing was already so shallow that she was sure unless he actually put a hand on her, he wouldn't be able to tell she was breathing.

Voldemort felt a power rile inside him, a deep satiated feeling. He turned his wand lifting the boy from the ground to hang in the air before all those who had pledged to follow him. "Now, we take the castle!" He turned his head slowly looking out over his followers, who was most worthy to carry his victory? A slow grin formed as he turned his eyes to the captured half-giant. Still struck silent from when he'd tried to beg for the girl's life, his head was down in his shackled hands. "You! You shall carry the boy! Bring him forward! Come pick up your little friend. Everyone shall see him from your arms will they not?"

Hermione heard Hagrid's heavy steps growing closer, the spell that had been placed over him was broken when he must have taken hold of Harry. Her heart ached for him but she begged with everything inside her that he didn't offer to carry her too. She'd never make it back to the Shack if he were to carry her to the castle. She'd never have enough time or energy to make the trip.

"My Lord, what of the Mudblood?" Bellatrix's voice was hot against her ear, deep and sultry as if she were starving and begging for water. Hermione hadn't even heard her come over but her heart threatened to jump straight from her chest when she felt her lean in a little closer.

"Leave her, she is of no consequence any longer."

There was more shifting and Hermione could tell the mass had started to move. It felt like years before the entire forest floor had gone quiet. Only the soft shifting of animals daring to venture out echoing in the distance. It was in this time that Hermione slowly opened her eyes. The clearing around her was empty and the fire had died down. Her entire frame trembled when she shifted her weight to try and lift her leg far enough to call her wand. She still had a job to do, a promise to keep. Her time on the front line was over, it was up to Harry to complete the final task.

"Accio..." Hermione winced softly when the wood wiggled its way free from her pants leg into her waiting hand. She took a slow breath and turned the tip into the shackles at her wrists. "Alohamiria." Only she would have known a spell to release metal shackles. Only she would have spent the time researching the various types of unlocking spells.

What she hadn't been expecting was her entire body to sag downward slamming her head back against the wood. She pointed her wand as quickly as she could to the ropes around her neck cutting them, and her ear when she sliced through. Her body pitched forward then, sending her hard onto her shoulder, taking the small breath she'd had inside her out of her lungs in one swift kick. A deep groan of impatience and pain rumbled up through her chest as she dragged her arms up under her. The sudden rush of blood to her brain was enough to make her want to vomit. Another soft groan pushed her up onto her hands and knees and she felt something slip out of her pocket.

"Oh, Harry..." Her blood coated fingers curled around the vial she hadn't noticed him even give her. "And they call me brilliant..." Hermione shifted onto her backside using the tree to help her sit up. A shaky hand uncorked the vial and she brought it to her lips. A soft pain in her lower back pulsed as she drank more than half of it down in one large gulp. Suddenly remembering Snape's warning regarding his potions, she stayed her hand. She was sure she had already boxed her kidneys at this point just from the trauma alone. She couldn't risk doing more damage before she'd seen her task through.

Her head thunked back against the tree as the potion burned its way through her overly exerted muscles. It was a miracle to her that she could even think clearly. The wall Snape had put between her Fugue-self was surely the only reason she was as she was now. She owed him so much, even though it hadn't been a pleasant ride by any means, he had saved her life. She could hardly imagine where Harry and Ron would be if she would have died the night at the Manor.

As the potion flowed through her limbs bringing a pleasant numbing strength. Hermione pulled the stone from behind her shoulder and cradled it in her palm. The number had turned red now, seemingly stuck between 15 and 16. She had so little time to give him. She just hoped he had enough left to give to. Her body wasn't healed, but it was stable, for now.

Using the tree behind her, she pushed herself up to her feet. The walk from the Shack to the woods had taken barely ten minutes but she wasn't sure if she could do it as quickly as she had before. Her legs were stronger but only just. The bottom right calf seemed to have knotted nearly completely. She leaned down trying to rub the knot loose before she spotted something just beyond the clearing. A shimmering, something...the firelight was dying and it was hard to be sure whether it was just a trick of shadows or actually something worth investigating.

Giving her ankle a small roll, she pushed off of the tree taking small steps. Her body felt jerky, but there was no pain. She made it the few steps before something soft came underfoot. She pulled her foot back and leaned down, her brows going into her hairline. It was the cloak, Harry's cloak! Stupidly brilliant boy!

Hermione used the tree to keep herself from pitching over and pulled the cloak from the dirt. She had considered risking apparation before remembering the caterwauling charm over all of Hogsmeade. With this though, she'd be able to take out anyone she might encounter along the way. It was worth the risk of splinching herself to get there faster. She could feel the bond on her wrists growing weaker, the spell breaking away. Without thinking about herself, she threw the cloak over her head. A flick and a turn and she was gone.

When the world snapped back into focus Hermione felt her stomach lurch, that in combination with the spell that sounded made her head feel as though she were on a merry-go-round. She stumbled slightly to the side bracing herself along the edge of a nearby building. She could hear shouts of Death Eaters coming down the road from the direction of Hogwarts.

Taking a moment to assess her options, she pressed herself flat against the building watching the three scrambling Death Eaters trying to find the source of the disturbance. She bided her time waiting for them to split up. Her eyes turned to the smoke billowing from the castle that was standing eerily silent.

"Recon one of the kids got loose?" A gruff looking man, possibly in his early twenties turned his deep forest green eyes straight at where Hermione was standing. She held her breath and waited, her wand at the ready. He paused for a small second before continuing to look about.

"Don't know, but I ain't take'n no chance. Keep your eyes sharp, the wars not over until Voldemort says it is." The elder of the group, a short stout man, possibly near his thirties grumbled and pushed ahead of them making his way past the building Hermione was pressed against. The third Death Eater hardly looked over Hogwarts age, in fact, Hermione was sure she'd recognized him as one of the beaters for the Ravenclaw team last year.

"Stay here, guard the road."

"Yes, sir."

Hermione grimaced when the youngest took a stance right in the center of her path. She was sure she could sneak past him but he was right in line for the Shack. If she were to open the door he was sure to see, if not hear her. That combined with the need to have the area secure she decided on her best course.

Taking a slow silenced step, she approached the youngest first. A sharp silencing spell kept him from crying out when the stunner hit him square in the head. His body pitched sideways, only to be caught and lowered down just as quietly. Hermione cast a quick notice-me-not charm over his body before turning on her heel. The others were too close together to take out so efficiently.

Her body thrumming with her power, she squared her stance and raised her wand just from under the cloak. As she made to cast a large cry erupted from the castle turning their heads. Her own head had turned as well watching as a new onslaught began from afar.

"Hey!" The stout man had looked away first, noticing the wand floating in the air, he fired without a second warning.

Hermione dived hard to the side as the Killing Curse shot straight over her shoulder. A split second later reaction would have had her laying overtop of the boy she'd just struck unconscious. The cloak fell partially away tangling her momentarily. By some grace of fate, her shield spell held up against the second and third attacks.

"Avad-"

"Acendare!" Hermione's spell hit her target square in the chest sending him flying so high that she was sure the fall back down to earth would kill him.

"Defodio!"

The ground beneath Hermione's feet exploded in a bright display of dust and stonework. A small shield charm protected her from the falling debris as she waited for a clear shot. The cloak was only partially clinging to her now giving her attacker an odd view of her floating shoulder and leg. Deciding not to give her target the chance to counter, Hermione hastily pulled the cloak back over her form and went still. The charm that had silenced her steps had gone when she'd made to block herself.

"Bombarda!" Hermione's spell hit it's target, exploding not only the ground beneath but also sent the Death Eater high into the air. She watched his flight with apprehension. She'd never meant to kill anyone, she didn't want to kill anyone but as his body landed harshly on the edge of the roof and a sickening crack could be heard; she knew she'd lost the one part of her innocence, she'd never wanted to lose. She closed her eyes tight when his limp body crashed heavily down and turned her head away.

Her eyes turned up to the castle that was burning anew. Even from there she could hear the sound of spells being cast and the cries of her fellow students fighting their last stand. It was with a heavy heart and even heavier body that she turned away. The rush of excitement she'd had from her skirmish was quickly leaving her as she rushed her way up the overgrown path.

Her hand trembled when she pushed open the door. Her eyes stinging as they attempted to adjust to the dim light. The entire building swayed, though she wasn't sure if it was her or the actual building moving. She pushed the door closed behind her and set a small locking charm over the tattered door. It wasn't much but at least it gave her some sort of peace.

She retraced the steps she had taken not an hour before, though the apprehension that she'd felt then felt like a cake walk now. This was it, the moment of truth. The moment where she would see if all her work with the man who had become such a sudden important figure in her life was in vain.

Her breath skipped a small beat when she pushed open the door revealing his pale and still form. Tears filled her eyes as she came just a small step closer. Tearing the cloak away, she stumbled over the distance and fell down to her knees beside him; he looked, peaceful...almost...happy... She had never in all her life ever seen that notoriously furrowed brow so relaxed.

A deep breath, centered her mind and raised her hands; she could see the blood that had gone cold against his neck having run down melding in with the ridiculously dark fabric of his cloak and coat. With only a bite to her lip to steady herself, she reached forward slipping her slim fingers under his jaw to take hold of his high collar. Without ceremony, she gave it the strongest pull she could manage. The buttons that held the fabric in place pinged against the floor as she tore her way down to his chest.

Her brows turned to hopeless despair when she revealed the normally so pristine white beneath was turned Gryffindor crimson. Still, she reached up again and gave a sharp tug, exposing the tinted skin beneath. He felt cold against the backs of her fingers when she reached in to find the stone. When her fingers wrapped around the smooth surface over his heart, she felt a sharp jolt of pain run up from her neck straight into her skull nearly taking her sight. Determined, she gritted her teeth against the pain forcing her rather unresponsive limbs to move to her command.

It was with great effort, and searing pain that she pulled the stone from beneath his shirt, a dim blue number was ticking down the seconds. 56...55...54...Even as her body continued to vibrate against the lightning burning down her spine, she frantically groped her own chest trying to pull her own stone free. A deep whine filled her throat as she tried to remember the spell she had seen added inside her notes.

Her own counter was low, in the red, 15 minutes remaining, the stuck counter seemingly to have begun moving again. There was no way to reset the clock once it had been started to her current knowledge. Voldemort had tortured her for nearly 30 minutes near death to test the stone, losing her half of the time the stone had in its power. His final curse had started her clock again, leaving her only so little time to attempt to save him.

Her wand having been cast down to the floor in her desperate attempt to get to the stone, she quickly picked it up and leaned forward, her chest nearly touching his own as she looked down at the two stones now lying side by side in her palm. Another sharp jolt ran through her body from the brand on her neck, making her wand arm jerk and ruin the intricate incantation that was needed to transfer the time.

"Come on...just a little longer..." She bared her teeth, her lips moving stiffly as she started again. Her wand tip glowed a deep purple almost black and she knew she'd managed it. She moved the tip back and forth, giving him the minutes she could spare: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Her body felt as though a heavy weight had crashed down upon her with each borrowed minute and she couldn't help but fall forward into his chest to catch her breath.

It was in her broken gasps for air that she felt the faintest twitches under her cheek. His skin was still cold and sticky but she was sure she could hear the faintest of beats against her ear. Her hands fumbled against him when she pushed herself back onto her heels. Her head was hung low but she watched from beneath her lashes for any sign. When nothing greeted her, she knew there was still so much more to do. She had given herself a rather tight window.

She turned her body and pointed her wand at the potion's kit she'd kicked under the old chair. She shifted herself closer, the side of her calf pressed completely against his thigh as she laid the kit over his lap. The punctures in his neck were her first concern. She pulled the dittany out first, a thin vial with a rubber stopper and shakily lifted it up. His throat had been partially protected by his coat but the Snake's multiple strikes had left a rather large hole over his main artery.

The dropper shook so much in her fingers that most of the dose had rolled down his chest rather than into the wound. She pressed herself even closer, bracing her forearms against his chest to try and steady her hand. She could feel his nose lightly pressing against her temple as she leaned in, but she couldn't feel his breath against her jaw.

As the skin agonizingly slowly knitted together, her eyes grew heavier. It had to be the venom. Nagini looked like some sort of viper, her brief study of animals as a small child reminded her of the possible effects of venom against healing charms and potions. She bared her teeth and turned back down into the bag, she had only a bezoar, it wouldn't work quick enough to counteract such a potent poison. Her mind ran in circles for a long minute before she remembered just who exactly she was trying to save.

Surely after having spent as many years as he had, both in this war and the previous, Snape of all people would have created an anti-venom. Her hands pulled back, dropping the closed vial somewhere down between Snape's legs as she turned back to look into the field kit. He had given it to her with the instructions to kill the Snake, she hadn't once taken the time to look at every potion therein. She pulled them out in haste, trying to read the coded labels that shook before her.

"Insufferable...man..." Her impatience took a turn when after six vials, she finally pulled out a lightly yellowed vial labeled only with an S. Believing it to be no other option she turned back gently pushing his head further to the side. The dittany had done very little, stayed in its progress by the venom still sitting on the surface of the wound.

Without caution she poured the yellow liquid nearly full tilt over the holes. A small hissing sound followed by a deep green smoke filtered into the air and she felt a sort of pressure easing off her heart. The dittany from before started moving the skin again and she turned her head up. He'd have to drink it to rid his body completely, but there was no way for him to do that so long as he was virtually dead. She pushed the vial into his shirt pocket with haste before it became nearly too much to lift her hand back up.

"No...no..." Her eyes turned down to her stone, the number five glaring back at her. "Come on..." She spoke more to herself but there was little to be done. She could already feel her chest slowing, the heart that had been beating so vehemently against her ribs nothing but a dull pulse.

Tears filled her eyes when she felt her body pitching forward. Her hand clung awkwardly bent against his shirt in a bid to keep her from pitching sideways but it was all for nought when she could no longer feel her arm. She watched herself in slow motion sliding down his chest, her eyes twitching around the edges to remain open. When the pressure of his legs arched her back and her neck could no longer support her head she knew she had failed.

The top of her head laid cradled in his lax hand, her eyes staring up at some unknown location above her head as her body gave its brave last stand. Her hand slid down from his chest to rest against between them and finally, at last, her eyes slid closed and Hermione moved no more.