Hermione's chest heaved with gasping, struggling breaths and her eyes were red raw from the sweat constantly dribbling into them. After nearly twelve hours of relentless fighting, her muscles were taut and throbbing, but she was mostly unscathed. Ducking behind a crumbling wall to steady her breathing, she scanned the battlefield to assess the situation. They were in what remained of Godric's Hollow. The once picturesque village was now little more than a scar in the landscape and today would destroy what remained. The Order had, of course, predicted that Bellatrix's madness would erupt into the world in her final, ruthless attempt to kill as many people as she could. They just hadn't predicted her methods.