So much bloodshed…
She watches it flutter past. Its bright wings are flapping against the wind, too strong for such a weak creature.
Blood. Chaos. Bodies. She fights to escape the tumultuous massacre.
Hermione closes her eyes and sighs. She does not want to remember that night. She does not want to think of the blood, the screams…but Hermione no longer has control over her own mind…
People falling everywhere. Blood soaking the streets. The cold laughter of the killers rings out as loud as church bells in Hermione’s ears.
It would not be so terrible to bear if only he had not fallen along with the others. Hermione would not be so lost if he hadn’t fallen.
‘Sectumsempra!’ Ron’s chest explodes in blood. ‘Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra!’ The Death Eater continues to yell. Ron’s face bursts and all that is left of Hermione’s love is a gooey mess of blood and brains.
The monarch butterfly lands on a tree branch close to Hermione’s hand. She sings softly to herself. ‘Row, row, row your boat…’
Ron’s murderer laughs and turns to Ginny, who is blankly staring at what remains of her older brother’s body. ‘Crucio!’ Ginny falls, screams, and twitches, like so many others before her…
‘…life is but a dream.’ Hermione stares at the orange butterfly. It has not moved for five full minutes. Perhaps it has fallen asleep.
Harry pushes Hermione, who stands as still as a statue, out of the way. Green light comes out of his wand. The Death Eater falls onto his back. Ginny stands. She takes one last look at Ron, and with fire in her eyes, charges towards Voldemort.
Hermione shuts her eyes tightly. She wants to drive these terrible memories out of her head. But although the human mind pushes things away, things that are too unpleasant to bear, nothing is ever really forgotten. Hermione realizes this as her mind recalls the terror.
Ginny approaches Voldemort with every intention of avenging her deceased brother. Voldemort looks at her with what seems to be pity. Then, in an instant, Ginny is dead in a green flash of Voldemort’s wand.
The monarch moves its wings. So it is not dead after all. No, it had probably just dozed for a while. What a lucky creature. For what memories does a butterfly have to be afraid of?
Harry sees Ginny’s body crumpled on the ground. But he has no time to go to her, for at that moment Bill Weasley is attacked from behind. Harry goes to assist. All the while Hermione stands still. She stares at Ron. His face is now unrecognizable. Hermione tries to move. Ron’s shattered face hold her down.
Hermione raises her eyes to the sun. It no longer warms her. The whole world is cold to her now. She has no one.
Bill is fatally injured. Harry fruitlessly tries to tend to his wounds. Bill dies in Harry’s arms. To his left, Bellatrix hold Neville under the Cruciatus curse.. How ironic it would be for Neville to suffer the same end as his parents. Harry will not allow that. He stuns Bellatrix, who is disorientated for only a moment.
The monarch has moved to Hermione’s outstretched ankle. She gazes at the helpless creature. It angers her.
As soon as Neville stands up, Lucius hits him from behind. Hermione will never forget Neville’s shocked expression as he crumples to the ground, dead. Hermione raises her wand towards Lucius and fires a curse. No good. There is no energy spurring her on. Hermione’s soul has followed Ron to heaven.
It had been stupid of them to think they could face Voldemort and his followers alone and win. None of them had the emotion needed to kill, or torture, or deliver any kind of fatal blow. They were weak and gullible and unprepared. Just like this monarch butterfly.
Lucius’ cruel laughter is the only sound Hermione can hear. He raises his wand. ‘Avada Kedavra!’ At that moment, Charlie Weasley throws himself in front of Hermione. Another gone. Who is left?
Hermione reaches out and grabs the monarch before it has a chance to fly away. She holds it within her hands and looks at it spitefully.
Harry looks at Hermione with fiery eyes. He is silently willing her to move. Hermione has never felt so afraid. Hermione has never felt so alone. Hermione does something she never imagined she would do. Hermione Disapparates, and abandons her friends. Hermione has never felt so like a coward.
Good never prevails in real life. Hermione still holds the monarch. She grabs an orange wing in each hand and pulls roughly. The butterfly is torn in half. The ripping sound startles Hermione, yet spurs her on. She continues to tear the poor monarch into pieces, until there is nothing left of it, just as there is nothing left of Hermione’s shattered soul.