The room stank of blood. Her hands were coated with it. Hermione could see corpses littered liberally around the room. Most of them were Death Eaters, their Dark Marks still glowing on pale skin. It gave her hope. But Harry, the-boy-who-lived, was nowhere to be seen. Sometime during his fight with Voldermort, he must have left the room. "Avada Ked--" she heard the voice of evil scream at the top of his lungs.
Hermione ran as fast as she could, hoping she wouldn't be too late, knowing that she would. Voldermort lay on the floor, dead, Harry's wand sticking out of his chest. After so many years of magically torturing and killing people, the man was killed in one of the oldest ways, impalement. Harry lay next to him, his face covered in blood. Hermione knelt at his side.
"Don't be dead," she said, "I don't know what I'll do if you're dead." He coughed a little and opened his eyes. Hermione hugged him close. "Oh, thank you, thank you."
"Be careful," Harry said in a tired voice, smiling a little. "I don't know if everything is still attached." He closed his eyes, and Hermione shook him. "Hermione, I'm tired. Hermione…"
"Hermione. Hermione! Wake up!" She opened her eyes. "Have you been here all night?" Will, the janitor, asked.
She looked at her watch, it was a little after 11:00 PM. "This is hardly all night, Will. I just had some extra work to catch up on."
"And your monitor just happened to be behind your eyelids?" He smiled. "Get out of here. Go break some innocent blokes heart."
She stood up and stretched. Her back hurt from sitting in an uncomfortable position for too long. Ejecting the disk from her computer she picked up her bag. "No broken hearts tonight, Will. Just sleep." She walked out of the office, not seeing Will's wistful glance after her.
James King, the night security guard bid her goodnight as she got off the lift. "'Nother long night?" He asked.
"It's how I do things." She pushed opened the door and walked into the cold London night. As she walked to the nearest tube station she threw her disk into a trash can a block away from the office. After a ten minute tube ride she was at her flat.
As she walked in, her flat mate, Alissa said, "Where have you been?" She took stock of Hermione's suit. "The office?" Hermione nodded. "All this time?"
"I fell asleep. Will woke me up." She put her bag down and took her suit jacket off.
Alissa smiled. "Will? He fancies you."
"No, he doesn't. He looks out for me." Walking into the kitchen she grabbed a banana. Peeling it, she asked. "So, where are you going tonight?"
"New club, new bloke. He's young, rich, attractive, and upwardly mobile. What more could a girl ask for?" She twirled around in her new little black dress. "Do you like it?"
"You look delectable. How much did it cost you?"
"Oh, 'Mione, you're too practical. If I'm lucky, my date will fall madly in love, or at least passionate lust with me, and I won't have to worry about paying for a long time." She smiled, somehow it came off as wistful and scheming at the same time. Alissa was that sort of girl.
"Or fall in passionate lust with you, you'll have one wondrous night of monkey love, and he'll be gone before you wake up." She sat down on a stool.
"That sounds almost as good." There was a knock at the door. "That's him. I look good?"
She started for the door. "Wait, you answer it. He won't get the full effect of the dress if I answer the door." He knocked again. "I'll go into the other room and you can call me, alright? Good."
Smiling, Hermione shook her head. Alissa was strange, even for a muggle. When she opened the door, her smile turned into a scowl. "What are you doing here?"
Malfoy smiled. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" He said it like he hadn't hated her for more than ten years.
Making her voice pleasant, she said, "Please come in, Alissa is just doing her secret female rituals." She opened the door and stepped to the side. "Alissa!"
"Drake! You look great, ready?" She walked into the room and hooked her hand on his arm. "Don't wait up."
"Wouldn't dream of it." After Hermione shut the door, she hit it. "Get a grip," she said to herself. You have work to do.