Okay. So you may or may not realize this, but I have lost my notes on this fanfic. That means I lost whatever way/plot I'm supposed to write. I read over this, and I'm trying to remember what hints I've thrown in, but seriously, none of this is ringing a bell. (Did I actually write this fanfic? I don't know.) So I'm writing in a different way and perhaps going in a different direction than what the previous chapters were saying.

I don't know, but this is the point where I've returned to this fanfic and I don't remember the reason I wrote this. (I know, I know. It was only March of this year. I was really knocked out by what happened in March. Now that was a bad month. Along with April.)

She feels like she is in a dream.

A very long, weird dream.

But it is a real one.

Far from their campsite is Tom Riddle standing with a black wool coat and a pensive look on his face. He appears to be looking across the field of trees, but he is focused on nothing at all.

"Come to me
In the night hours
I will wait for you
And I can't sleep
Cause thoughts devour
Thoughts of you consume"

"How are you alive?" she whispers.

Shaken out of his thoughts with a very startled but very and oddly human look, he answers, "I don't know. How could a man whose existence depends on an object suddenly find himself living without it? How does a man live without water, without air, and still manages to survive?"

A pause.

Then she tells him, "He can't live at all."

"I can't help but love you
Even though I try not to
I can't help but want you
I know that I'd die without you"

They head back to the campsite, ready to hunt for the next horcrux. But she can't help but watch every single move he makes as he quietly becomes part of their little group fighting against an insane man—who was part of him.

She watches him far more closely than Harry or Ron watches him. Every single movement, every bite he takes, every breath he breathes in, and every single blink of his eye. She burns him into her memory, igniting the spark she has always kept just for him.

There is something between them.

She is afraid that bond is stronger than her friendship—that if he ever does turn dark again and shows a darker side of himself, she would follow him into the darkness. Because that magnetic force pulls her towards him—forged from something she didn't understand.

She gave him something.

She doesn't know what.

But it must have been her heart, because she keeps on trying to find it again.

"Stay with me a little longer
I will wait for you
Shadows creep
And want grows stronger
Deeper than the truth"

"Where is the horcrux?" she whispers. He refuses to answer Harry's or Ron's questions about his other horcruxes. She knows that he knows where they are, but she doesn't know how to get him to say—to stay.

She isn't dumb enough not to notice how he always slips away from the group—how he is always the last one on the campsite, how he is always the furthest one away from the rest of them, how he is making his plans in his head.

Stay, stay, stay.

Those words are on her lips, and she will go down on her knees to beg for him to stay. She would do anything for him.

It is illogical—irrational—and completely insane.

But she has to.

"I can't help but love you
Even though I try not to"

Can a man breathe without air?

No.

Can a man live without water?

Only for one day.

Can a man survive without food?

Only for three days.

Isn't that the truth?

The more he tries to push himself away from these people, the more he realizes that he is strangely affected by Hermione Granger. He can feel her eyes on him, marking him and claiming him as hers. He wants to do the exact same thing—and he feels the exact same way.

The pulsing, gravitational bond of something he doesn't understand nor will he probably ever comprehend and see the full glorious magnitude of it.

"Where is the horcrux?" she asks.

And he finds himself unable to deny her.

Even though, it is his downfall.

"I can't help but want you
I know that I'd die without you"

The diadem is hidden at Hogwarts.

The diary is with the Malfoys.

The cup is at the Wizarding bank.

The ring is hidden in a cave.

The snake is with her master.

Harry Potter is right by them.

And Ron Weasley has destroyed the locket.

"And those are all the horcruxes," he says to her shocked face. He gives her a small, sad look and whispers, "But we know their fates."

The diadem is in the Room of Requirement.

The diary has been destroyed.

The cup is Lestrange's vault.

Dumbledore destroyed the ring.

The snake is killing again.

Harry Potter is the last horcrux.

And the locket…

He doesn't know what will happen to him.

"I can't help but be wrong in the dark
Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts
I can't help but want oceans to part
Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts"

"We did many things in your dream," he tells her, his breath brushing across her face with warmth. "You may not remember anything or you may remember everything."

"I remember everything." A pause. She turns towards him with bright eyes, shiny bright eyes filled with something dark and seductive—like she has took a piece of his darkness and merged it with her soul. "And I regret nothing."

He could feel horror at her words.

But is it his horror?

Or hers?

He has an inkling of an idea of what happened to them.

"Then if I asked you to leave Ron and Harry," he says, his back turned against her, "would you leave them for me? Would you—?"

"Yes," she replies. Her eyes flare red—like the color of the red dawn. "All that and more."

"I can't help but love you
Even though I try not to
I can't help but want you
I know that I'd die without you"

He is wrong.

There is another one.

Hermione Granger is the last horcrux. Or perhaps she is not a horcrux at all. She is something strange—an accident created while she attempted to fight him off and reverse what he has done to her. He can begin to recall the precise moments of what happened when her light met his darkness. Neither of them probably will ever know what exactly happened that time when she reversed the polarity.

He doesn't regret it.

But is it her regret or his?

They have merged too much to be able to tell each other apart now.

"I can't help but be wrong in the dark
Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts
I can't help but want oceans to part
Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts"

Minds, whole.

Spirits, low.

Hearts, bloody.

Souls, one.

She took more of him, he took more of her, she merged with him, he merged with her, he kissed her, she kissed him, she fought him, he fought her, he tried to control her, she tried to command him, their powers struggled and lashed out for command and control—

And it all happens in this war.

He will lose to her.

He knows.

He will do anything for her.

You know the drill. Read and review.