Great.  Hermione thought to herself. She supposed it was time for her fate to take shape. She pushed her thoughts to the back of her head, preparing herself for the inevitable pain. She remembered the way it had felt when Bellatrix had hit her with the crucio over and over. Her muscles twitched at the thought; she needed to find a way to embrace the pain.  You’re not a sacrificial lamb, Hermione.  She reminded herself.  You’re Helen.