Prologue

I try to get under control but I can't stop these sobs from wracking my body. No matter where I am I can see us so clearly. I stumble down stairs; I race corners trying to catch a glimpse. Things that haven't happened have happened. Things that can't have possibly have happened have happened. History was being rewritten; changed. Memory overlapping with memory. I let out a gasp and fall. Ron gives a snort but doesn't wake up. Harry's breathing is steady. I feel around the tent for my wand. Tears are escaping, my breath is increasing, too much pain. My hand grasps onto my wand. I gasp again. Another picture enters my head; foggy at first but it starts to clear up. Long dark curls and a wide smile. I point the wand at my temple.

"Clarus."

And then I'm gone.

For a little while, I'm out of the darkness.

"What do you think?"

"They're pushing her too hard. We're pushing her too hard. She needs to rest."

"But if we can use this – "

"If we can use her, you mean."

"Now, hey. C'mon. Hey. I care for her as much as you do. But consider this. This… connection that she has can be a blessing."

"I think it's killing her."

"She's strong, mate. And if we don't use it, it might kill everybody else."

To listen is to strain. To strain is to hurt. To hurt is to feel. To feel is to concentrate. The darkness edges my vision, spreading toward the center. My concentration wanes…

"Hermione?"

I don't know my eyes are open until he says my name. I blink slowly and my vision clears. Ron never talks in my dreams. My hand reaches out to touch his ginger hair.

"Ron." I murmur.

He smiles and grasps my hand in his own. "It's me, Hermione. How do you feel?"

"Where… are we?" I see walls, and lights. I don't know I'm lying down until I try to sit up. There's a pillow on my back and I realize I'm on a couch.

"Bill and Fleur's. Remember, we were heading here? The Order's gathering."

"To talk about me?"

He hesitates. "Yes. And your… situation."

"How did we get here? The last thing I remember, we were in a tent."

"You were trying to deal with the pain, I think. You must've accidentally overdosed on clarus." He bites his lip and searches my face. "We were worried. You were out for so long. We managed to carry you along though."

"How long was I out?"

"Three days. I'm surprised you're not – "

My stomach growls loudly.

" – Hungry." He grins. "I'll fetch something shall I?"

I nod and he lets go of my hand. As he leaves I take in my surroundings. Suddenly a thought occurs to me.

"Ron? Where's Harry?"

"Here."

I crane my neck and there he is. Soaked to the bone and… yes. Now I can hear the rain. Harry grins and walks around the couch to plop down next to me.

"Alright there, 'Mione?"

"I've been better." I grin back. "Dry yourself off will you?"

"I don't know the spell."

"Do you know of a towel?"

He pauses and then laughs. "Oh yeah." Taking out his wand he mutters, "Accio towel." A thick towel zooms into the room and smacks him on the face.

We both laugh.

"A patronus you can handle. But simple household spells, not your forte."

"Good thing I have you." He stops. We both look down uncomfortably.

"Listen, 'Mione…" He trails off as Ron enters. He's holding a tray with simple sandwiches, but I'm salivating at the sight. After months of eating mushrooms and stolen loafs of bread it's nice to eat normally for a change. And inside.

"Any news?" Ron turns to Harry, while I opt to stuff my mouth.

"They're all coming tonight. Are Bill and Fleur home?"

"Fleur is dealing with IT. Bill was here earlier. He'll be back for the meeting."

"Is Fleur alone?"

"No, don't worry. She'll be completely safe. We know better now. Wish we understood sooner."

"But then we wouldn't have this."

"I could do without this." I mutter between chews.

Harry looks down. "I'm sorry."

I swallow hard. "No, I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain. I know this is important for the Cause."

"But is it?" Ron settles on the floor in front of Harry and me and leans backwards on his fists. "I mean, maybe we're just blowing this all out of proportion. Maybe it's a waste of time."

I shake my head. "Don't say that, Ron. We can use these. I know we can."

"But it's hurting you." He trembles for the barest instant. "I mean, for gods sake, you couldn't even handle the clarus. And that spell is supposed to help."

"But it did. I mean…" I remember the darkness. So sweet and empty. No pain. I cast a glance at Harry, then back at Ron. "There was no pain. I felt nothing."

"That's what I'm worried about."

I stand staring into the mirror, the door firmly shut. Downstairs people are still pouring in. I know that I have to do this right. Tell everything and clearly. We can't gather like this every day. But there's something buzzing in the back of my head. A static frequency jumping around and I can't understand it. An eerie note pulsating through my body and… I know I have to be downstairs. My hand reaches for the handle even while my eyes still linger on their reflection. I can't grasp the handle and my eyes are tearing up. The picture grows and it's in the mirror. Long dark curls and a wide smile. My mouth feels so stretched, my head so heavy. Inside my robes lies my wand, pressed against my heart. Too far to reach, can't even reach the doorknob. No clarus, no escape. I try to hold on though. I try not to sink in.

Remember ginger, the voice cries. Grasp him, hold him, let him save you.

Ginger hair, pleading eyes. Ron is downstairs, I want to go to him. Harry is waiting, ready to support me, make me laugh. I need them. I need them.

My vision is completely gone. Only the mirror.

Fight it. Go to your friends.

Only the mirror.

Focus. Breathe. Remember. FIGHT.

Long dark curls and a bright smile.

FIGHT.

There might be banging on the door, a finger feeling my pulse, but I'm gone. My face stretched into an imaginary smile and I'm out of the frying pan…

… Into the fire.

Bellatrix sighs as I emerge from the darkness. "You again?"

"You're much calmer." I note. "No curses this time?"

"So, I'm trapped in a mudblood's head." Bellatrix shrugs. "Could be worse."

"Really? Because having a death eater in my head is pretty much number one on the horror scale."

Bellatrix smiles and flops down on the surface of my dark head. "When I get out of here, mudblood, I'll become the Dark Lord's greatest asset."

I sit across from her, Indian style. "Really? How do you figure?"

"I hear everything, don't forget. I know all the Order's plans."

"No, I mean, how do you figure getting out."

Bellatrix glares at me. "If you can get in, you can get out."

I smile sweetly just to antagonize her. "I wish you luck."

"Don't. When I get out, you die."

I keep my smile. We sit in silence waiting for me to go. To get pulled out. But there's no concept of time in my head. It could be an hour or a minute waiting for them to realize something's wrong.

I sigh and turn toward her. "You might as well."

She shakes her head. "You've seen too much."

"So what? You see all my memories."

She snorts contemptuously. "Like I care for yours. Mine are important. I'm not helping you defeat the dark lord."

"Here," I point to a section of our surroundings. Something brightens, a lighter hue of darkness. Bellatrix strokes the shimmering air, and something inside me shivers. "You take that, and take something of yours. Something boring, preferably. No more of your precious muggle tortures."

She smirks to herself. "Okay…" She closes her eyes and my vision dims. "How's this for boring?"

We vanish.

"Oh, hah hah, Lestrange." I mutter to myself. As soon as this memory is over I get to wake up. Until then I'm stuck watching myself studying. This must be… oh who knows when this was. I studied a lot last year. Back when school was relevant. Before Harry, Ron, and I were on the run. Before Bellatrix Lestrange was trapped in my mind. Feeding on my thoughts, waiting to give the information to her beloved master.

How long did I study for? The Bellatrix body I habit growls annoyed. I almost feel guilty. Being sent to capture The Boy Who Lived's best friend should've been more exciting. But I had a lot to study for.

Finally three hours pass, and Bella Body and I snap out of our daze. Memory Hermione walks out with her books under her arm. I feel Bellatrix lick her lips. I want to shout at myself, 'Run! Stop this from happening!' But I know how this ends. I remember it so well…

Water hits me and I gasp shooting up. Lupin and Kingsley look at me concerned.

"I'm fine." I manage. "But we better do it quickly."

They nod and we rush downstairs. The whole Order's there, besides Snape, in case Bellatrix might see him. In the middle of the table sits the orb, held by Fleur. Everyone looks nervous, clutching their wands tightly.

"It'll be okay, 'Mione." Harry says to me. "You'll be alright."

I smile assuredly at all of them; Ron, Harry, Lupin, Kingsley, all of them.

"Are you ready?" Arthur mutters.

Bellatrix's voice suddenly enters my ears. "What does he mean? What are you doing?"

"I'm ready."

"Ready for what?" Bellatrix's voice comes in panicked. "What are you doing, mudblood?"

"Now!"

My hand clenches over the orb. Bellatrix's voice is gone, and an unbearable scream enters. Not mine, not hers. Inhuman, I can't understand it. I can't see, can't think, but the orb is clenched underneath my hand, and its scream in my ear. Suddenly Bellatrix emerges, reaching toward me. I laugh when her hands wrap around my neck.

"You're getting out!" I scream at her. "Aren't you pleased?"

Her eyes widen, we become one, and I black out. As I fall the orb leaves my hand, shattering on the floor, no more.

It takes me a minute to realize my surroundings. But the wands point at me, and I'm too tired to care.

"What happened?" I mutter.

Harry Potter stares at me, hatred emanating from every inch of his trembling body. "Wait for it." He says.

The whole of the Order is tensed, waiting, and I have no choice but to wait with them. I'm myself again, but not free, not yet. I don't know where the mudblood is but she's not gone. She's not… and then I know.

"No!" I scream. I rush at Potter who leaps aside. I keep running, out of the little cottage, past the grave of the pathetic elf, past the spraying sea, wind rushing in my ears, and all I can think is 'get to the dark lord. Get to my master.'

But the mudblood pounds into me and I fall, the order behind me, reluctant to fire a spell and I know why.

"Please no." I cry. "Master!"

But he doesn't come, he doesn't hear. And tainted blood begins to flow in my veins.