A Little Wicked

- Bob Dylan

The Burrow had always felt like home to her, that much she couldn't deny, but with the Buzz of winning the war still sparking all around the wizarding world, and the heartbreak of the loss that they all faced in the wake of the battle, it was all too much.

There was a quietness there that would not settle into Hermione, not the way that it had the rest of them – it refused to take home in her – and she was not sure that she wanted it to. The war had ended, the world cheered around them and all Hermione could think was that they still had not buried all their dead. She wanted to scream and to step away from the light that, being who she was, shown on her – on them all. Peace didn't follow war, not that she had seen as of yet. There seemed to be someone wanting something from all of them – Promise of fame, job offers from all over. The boys were seriously considering the Aurors office. It was all moving too fast, and she wanted to hideaway.

It's this reason that just yesterday and seen her send off an owl to McGonagall, telling of her intent to return to finish out her studies, and before that to come to stay in the castle, and help with the restorations. She needed something. She needed a home, and that castle, in its ruined state, was all that she could call home in that moment.

She'd wished that she could have faced the boys in telling them that she was leaving, that she was going back to fix the destruction the war had lain across their school, but after speaking with Molly, she knew that they wouldn't get it. They wanted everyone together, Molly included, but she also knew that forcing herself to stay wouldn't help. They wouldn't quite get it, they had an out from their classes. The Golden Trio did not need to study, the world laid at their feet.

She needed to finish.

She is staring at the letter Minerva has sent back, having arrived only an hour ago at dawn. The wind pulling across the field almost giving away her hiding spot in the grass, inside the wards of the Burrow. she'd have to wait.

The newly appointed headmistress would be out for some days longer, having more to get done than Hermione was sure one person could be able. She'd instructed in kid words, for the young witch to wait out her return to the grounds before she returned herself. That she would send word, and Hermione could return then. Sighing heavily, she flops back, the tall grass cushioning her fall – which was probably good considering she had yet to heal entirely from the battle, and all that came before.

As if on cue, her forearm tingles, a constant reminder of what lay beneath her sleeve. She can't look at it again. Hours she'd spent staring at those letters, angrily staring back at her, and kept from weeping at the memory.

The sky hangs above her, clearly unknowing of the turbulence inside her as it stares down at her in brilliant blues and whites. Maybe the world was righting itself. Pushing from the ground she tucks away the letter in her pocket, already decided that she wouldn't be waiting, before heading inside.

"You're leaving." The statement comes from behind her as she packs away a few of her things into her charmed bag. She straightens at the sound. So much for a clean getaway. She was almost out. A letter waiting for each of the boys.

"I need to do something." She says turning to face Ginny. "I can't stay here; I can't go back to the world."

"So, you're going back to Hogwarts?" Ginny asks, already knowing the answer.

"I can do good there until I can resume my studies." She says sitting on the bed, not meeting Ginny's eye as she crosses the room to join her.

"All those job offers weren't enough?" Ginny chuckles. "Of course not, you'll break out in hives If you don't finish your last year."

Hermione surprises herself and laughs out loud, for the first time since before the battle, she's sure. If only the boys would let go of her this easily. "Yeah, something like that."

"Guess I'll be seeing you in the fall then," Ginny says simply. "Damn, know it all. Can't let the rest of us learn any more than you, huh?"

"Never." Hermione counters.

The air around them stalls on Ginny's mood, and Hermione almost feels bad for an instant. She can't let herself though – her last years were spent fighting a war – one as much her own as it was Harry's. Voldemort and his ideals needed to fall. Though she was sure only one of those things fell – this didn't spell acceptance throughout the wizarding world for all that were not purebloods, she wasn't fool enough to think such things.

"You're leaving, now then?"

"I'll write, keep you updated on the castle." Hermione offers, knowing it will be of little comfort. "Don't let the boys run wild without me?"

"Pfft, as if they would dare," Ginny says as she stands, pulling Hermione into a hug. "Take care of yourself, yeah?"

"Should be easy, won't have to look after the boys as well."

After saying goodbye, Hermione makes her way out of the wards, where no one can see, and apparates away from the Burrow without a look back – feeling like a new chapter may be starting.

When she lands, with that incredibly sickening feeling pulling at her insides, it's not the stone of the castle walls that greet her. It's not the destruction of a battle with fires still burning. No, it was her childhood home, empty, and looming above her.

She had been thinking about home she realizes, holding back the sob that threatens at the top of her throat. It's not till sometimes later that she knows she's been standing on the front lawn – grown up around her feet – too long. So long that the neighbors are starting to peek out windows and doors wondering who was standing where the Grangers once lived. Pulling her hood up, avoiding being recognized by one of them she walks away, down the street, making them think she is leaving. The last thing that she needed was one of them seeing her apparate away from there. The Muggles were already too close to finding out about everything – that they were so close to being overrun and killed in the streets.

Maybe she should just leave, find a spot, and go where she intended. There was nothing here for her – those walls were empty – wiped clear of any trace of her even before her parents decided that they would be better off in Australia. She would only hurt herself more by staying here, by staring at empty walls with the ghosts of memories bearing down on her.

She should leave, she thinks again as tears sting her eyes at the sound of an empty echo creaks throughout the house as she enters the back door, away from prying eyes.

"I'll just stay a little while." Never mind that she was talking to herself. Convincing herself that being here was okay. After all, who would be coming for her now? The war was over, the remaining dark wizards scattered all over as the Aurors searches for them. The public call for justice and the death of those loyalist followers still called into the night, and all throughout the days. No, the end had not brought peace – it had brought unrest and anger. Now that the fear was gone, they were calling for blood.

It sickened her.

She leans against the empty cupboards, lost in thought. Shaking from her mind, she moves into the rest of the house, unable to bring herself to go up those stairs, preferring to stay in the sitting room. Passing into the room something catches her eye, ticks along the door frame leaving the kitchen. A sad smile passes over her lips as she runs a finger along the notches in the wood, carved out by her father, marking the growth of her youth.

She can't remember them all happening, perhaps the first being the day she started school. She was so nervous – she remembers clearly – that he father decided on distracting her, showing her how much of a big girl she'd become. That she was ready for school and that perhaps it wouldn't be so scary. That she may even like it.

She'd always been a smart child, always looking to learn, Mr. Granger just needed to get her there.

"See, you're so much bigger than before. You're a big girl Hermione, and so, so smart. You'll do wonderfully."

The last notch, lower than she was now – They'd never gotten a chance to mark her last years of growth, and the smile resting on the last memory fades away into sadness. She's missed so many memories with them. All for a war that had stolen so much of her. Of them all.

Reaching into her bag, charmed like the one before she finds a small knife, and with tears in her eyes, she slices at the wood, marking her height now. Finishing something, completing something her parents had started

Some hours later she's resigned herself to staying out the night there, she'd leave for Hogwarts in the morning. A quick accio brought her a mattress from the attic, one she was glad her parents had left behind. It was much too small – her own from when she was a girl, but it would keep her from sleeping on the hardwood floor. Would keep her already aching body from protesting anymore.

A fire burns away, staving off the darkness and cold that had taken over her home, magically hidden from anyone outside looking in.

The thought that she should have left comes halting to the front of her mind as she's pulled from a light sleep, panic crawling over her skin. No one knew she was here. And still her head snaps, eyes wide, at the sounds of the door ratting against its locks.

A wizard? Or perhaps a muggle looking for something to steal? She didn't have much time to think as whoever was on the other side of that door was trying harder to get in. She puts an end to the fire – running on instinct now. Shrouding herself in darkness once again hiding from fear.

"Come out, Mud-blood!"

Wizard it was. How did anyone know she was here? Was she being followed?

Yes, Hermione, let's go somewhere unknown without telling a soul where you are. She admonishes herself, already in a position to make a run for it, wand in hand, should the wizard get in. When the wizard gets in, she thinks more accurately.

Suddenly, she's on her feet, the door blasting off its hinges. This was supposed to be over, she shouldn't be running for her life, not anymore. And it shouldn't feel like something natural – it shouldn't feel like she was finally breaking free from something that had been holding her back. Not bothering to stop and see which wizard It was, whether she knew them or not she only runs. They'd kill her just the same. She maps the house far better than her assailant, knowing every inch by heart, and which shortcuts no one else would think to use.

They wouldn't have her, wouldn't take her from this place. Certainly, wouldn't kill her here. Not. Here.

Tucking away behind a partition separating the dining room from the kitchen, her chest rises, sucking in a long breath before holding. Listening intently as the man enters the house. His boots echo against the floors, giving away just where he is.

"No point in hiding, I know you're here." He calls out coming to a stop in the main hall. Not twenty feet from her.

Maybe the man had a point? As far as she could tell he was alone – there were no other sounds telling of a second intruder. Leave it to a death eater to come alone. Sometimes she wondered how they hadn't all succumb to their arrogance years ago.

"Others are one the way." She calls back, hoping they don't' call her bluff.

A laugh falls from his lips and she knows they won't be so easily scared. "Tsk, Tsk, little girl. There's no one coming for you. Well, besides me that is." Footfalls echo louder now as his weight bears down on the wood with quick steps – searching for her.

"Expelliarmus." She springs from her hiding place, hoping to catch him off guard, but he was ready. Sidestepping the spell at the last second.

She keeps her wand up, doing her best to peer into the hood the wizard was wearing. Now they hide, she thinks dryly. Scared to show the world just how ignorant they were.

"You should just give up. You can't beat me."

"Always underestimating me." She feels a fire burn in the pit of her. Something settling into place as she fires of a few stunners, all but the last of them bounced off the shield he'd thrown up. She fires another catching him in the shoulder, pushing him back into the stairs.

Seeing that she was a little more than perhaps he thought the young witch would be without the boys at her side he pushes hard, throwing almost more than she can fend off. Her protection charm goes up, but the wizard is strong, moving her back with each curse that crashes into it.

A stunner catches her before she has a chance to fire back, taking him on the defense as she had planned, and she falls backward. Catching herself mid-air she turns, using her hands to block her fall. Panicking, Hermione realizes she is back to her attacker and quickly flips around, eyes darting around the space. He was gone!

Standing she grips her wand tighter, squinting into the darkness, hoping to catch sight of the wizard before he gets a chance to go on the attack again. There was no sign of him, no sounds to give away his position. The only sound reaching her ears was her own breathing, heavy and labored from the attack.
Her eyes flick to the front door, she knows there's a good chance she could make it out of there before he caught up to her, she could get away, apparate to Hogwarts where no death eater would dare return.

Fight or flight kicks in, but at that moment, she knew self-preservation wouldn't win out. There were all kinds of things that she should do. Why start now? He had attacked her, clearly bent on her blood status. She would not run from this fight.

"You know, you could leave now – no one would know you were here. I don't know your face." She draws out calmly, eyes on alert for any sign of movement. Keeping her back to the door, seeing most of the main level she waits. "It's that or get bested by Mudblood." A challenge rises in her voice that can't be missed.

"You filth, how dare you!" The voice booms and her eyes flash to the top of the stairs, throwing a stunner. What she was not prepared for was the barrage of anger that flowed from the man, spell after spell brought forth as quickly as she could block them. "You're nothing! A foolish girl that knows nothing of this world. You think because he fell that someone won't take his place?!" He screams between spells, all of which Hermione is blocking, but just barely.

She lets him go off, both in spell and from the mouth, wearing himself down until she can find an opening. One does not come, and she knows she has to do something – her shield was faltering, growing weak from the onslaught.

"Seems like I'm enough for you to hunt down!" She yells back over the clashing of magic.

"You'll die here!" He screams again.

Dropping her shield, she makes to stun the man, but he's faster than she anticipated. The spell hits her on the left side, slicing through her abdomen as a scream pulls from her, falling to the floor not being able to catch herself this time her head smashes against the floor, skin breaking at the contact. The pain bloomed before the warmth of the blood hit her from her side.

"Rodolphus!" A voice booms out, commanding attention, catching both Hermione and her attacker off guard. Her blood runs cold in an instant at that voice. Bellatrix! She was dead. Hermione had seen the memory of it happening.

"You!" Rodolphus says not as surprised as Hermione thought he should be. Did they know she wasn't dead – did the ministry? He was smiling, staring down the stairs at his wife, dropping the hood.

She needed to get out of there, but apparating in the state she was in was out of the question – she'd splinch herself for sure. Bellatrix, who'd been making slow determined steps comes to a stop just beside Hemione, glancing down for only a fraction of a second at the beaten witch.

"The war has ended, stop this Rod." The air around them seems to stop, all sound bowing out of the room as they both stare at the witch incredulously.

"She deserves death!" He throws back, causing Hermione to flinch at the sound. Betrayal seeps into his words and the young witch is not sure which of them is more surprised at the notion that Bellatrix, the most feared death eater was not there to help her husband in the pursuit of her death.

"I've warned you." Comes the commanding but simple reply.

Before the fallen witch knows what is happening a duel breaks out, Bellatrix throwing the first spell, easily besting her husband. This was her only chance to get away from them and whatever was happening. She should be concerned with the fact that she was still alive and not being tortured at the moment, but all she could think about was an escape. A fire starts somewhere in the room, a cast-off causing it.

Starting a slow crawl as the duel moves away from her a bit, getting more heated, she attempts to get up but cries out instead as a stray spell catches her in the back, forcing her back to the cold floor. She tries again, hand slipping through the blood that had already pooled on the floor from her wounds.

"Granger, Get out of here." The dark witch demands, looking back at the young witch with something in her eyes that Hermione cannot recognize. Maybe it was the firelight cast across her face that caused what Hemione thought she saw there.

Did Bellatrix just save her life? There's no fight left in her though – not at that moment – as the blood loss started stealing away her consciousness. The last thing she sees is Rodolphus hitting Bellatrix with what appeared to be the same spell stealing the life away from her now, in much the same spot.

Maybe they both would die here.

Bellatrix seethes, stumbling back as the spell hits her. How dare he use her own spell against her! Perhaps he was as stupid as she'd always thought him to be. Pulling herself tall she sees the feat flash through her husband's eyes at the anger swimming in her own.

"Bella, what is this?!" He demands, hoping to draw her mind away from his death for a moment she supposes. He was a coward after all.

"This," She pauses "this is me making sure you don't start another war!" She bellows, finger pointing to the fallen girl behind her. "Killing her, the damn golden girl, and force for the mudblood's, will enrage the masses!"

He eyes her, wand raising, as he starts a side step into a circle. Oh no, she was not prey to be hunted. She smirks at him, a challenge he will not miss.

"Or," He starts, looking to Hermione's unconscious form "you have a soft spot for the filthy creature."

Bella's chin raises in defiance, knowing that he is not finished. "You had your chance to kill her, to take the brains out of the wonder boy. You didn't then and you won't let me now. It should be you here, killing that thing, you know?' He sneers. "what, did she make you remember that poor girl from all those years ago."

She doesn't hold back, the second he closes her mouth Bellatrix steps, firing curse after curse at the man. The fire behind her is burning brighter now, filling the room with smoke, but she's dancing through it, laughing all the while. He knew how to get to her, but he wouldn't know how to stop her. No, no one could stop her and she fed off the fear in his eyes. Fury flies from the tip of her wand, spell after spell pushing him to the ground. "You think bringing her up would make me falter?! Wouldn't make me KILL YOU?!"

"Bella please, you wouldn't kill me?" he pleads, playing on their marriage.

"Oh no, dear husband, you're the first I would kill." She'd hated him longer than she liked him. Tolerated him less over the years. "CRUCIO!" The unforgivable hits him in the chest and Bella holds, watching him writhe on the floor, screaming out in pain.

"You won't touch her." She's moving closer, eyes ablaze and wand held high.

"P-please." He stutters out, pleading for the curse to end.

"Your life isn't worth pleading for." She drops her wand watching the pathetic excuse for a man cough and sputter as the pain still rocks his body. Turning she comes to a stop at Hermione's side, the witch looked close to death.

Bending at the knees she takes the witch in her arms, lifting her from the floor. A small wince escapes her at the extra weight pushes more blood from her wounds. There wouldn't be much time now, she needed to get them both out of there before Rod realized just how much damage he was able to do with that curse.

"They will see her dead!" comes the angry proclamation from behind her, "and I'll see to it they know of this! That you saved a Mudblood, attacked your husband to do so!" He was furious, perhaps not thinking about his words and who he was speaking to. Yes, that must be it. The fool.

"She'll suffer beyond whatever you did to her." It was a jab and she knew it, there were some things he knew how to pull out of her. Regret being one of them.

The spell leaves her mouth before she even turns fully to face him, Hermione cradled in her arms, and wand pointed directly at him.

"AVADA KADAVRA."

With a pop, Bellatrix appears outside the gates to Hogwarts, acutely aware of the dementors still looming above, searching for returning death eaters. "Bloody creatures." Shifting the weight in her arms she looks down at the girl, so close to death. Looking around she makes sure no one noticed her appearance on the grounds and cast a disillusionment charm over them both.

She should have thought to cast the charm before departing that house, before leaving it to burn to the ground with Rodolphus' body still inside. Though certain no one noticed the arrival, a sick feeling sinks into the pit of her, mixing with the pain. No one was to know of her not being dead, the world needed Bellatrix Lestrange to be dead.

She'd healed what she could of Hermione's wounds, but there was only so much she could do, the blood loss was too great. "You foolish girl, why didn't you run?" Bella asks quietly a sad smile passing over her lips. She knows why she didn't and she feared this would be it for the young witch. Gryffindor through and through she'd been a fighter until the end. She'd bring Rod back from the dead and curse him all over again. Shaking her head, she starts the trek to the infirmary.

"Pomfrey!" She bellows into the wing, praying to Merlin that the medi-witch was here and not somewhere else in the castle. The disillusionment falls away, the rest of her strength draining away.

"Yes, what is it?" Poppy asks coming out of one of the storage rooms at the opposite end of the room, stopping dead in her tracks as she sees who's standing before her, and who's being carried. "Miss Black, you're meant to stay hidden." She warns and Bella cannot help the snort that comes out at that. Well, yes of course she was – but there were more pressing matters.

"Yes, well." She moves Hermione to the closest bed, arms, and legs starting to quiver. She wouldn't be conscious much longer. Lowering the young witch down she notices her vision starting to darken at its edges. "She'd be dead had I stayed put. Lestrange attacked." Conditions of her life being spared be damned, she would not stand by when she knew more than the idiots at the ministry what would happen if the last of the faithful followers were not captured.

The last thing she sees is the worried look on Poppy's face as she crumples to the floor in a heap.