Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a property of J.K. Rowling. All copy writes received by her. I'm just trying to get this story out of my head...

Warning: This story contains angst, violence, self harm and sexual situations. RATED K+ /T FOR MOST CHAPTERS.

I will be putting warnings when it's at its highest.
A / N: Well I'm updating this story after a long time. Sorry about that. But I was focusing more on my other story. But I'm not abandoning this. Will update and finish this as soon as I'm able to.

The story is set after half blood prince and deathly hollows never happened. Warnings for language.

...

'Don't remember when it started exactly.' said Harry in a hollow voice. They sat on the small dining table of the suite. Harry looked much normal now, washed, mended and changed from the one she had to tie down to prevent cutting and scraping himself with trashing .

He looked tired as if he had just recovered from a fatal illness. But in reality Hermione knew that this was far from over. Harry touched his forehead lightly, looking at his own hand on the table as if it was very interesting thing to look at. 'I just remember getting these dream kind of visions, time to time when I slept- I thought they were dreams, nothing more.' Harry sighed as if almost mocking himself. He rested his head on his palms as if in thought.

Hermione waited. She wanted him to tell her everything. But she did not want to push as McGonagall told her to. She realized how hard this must be for him. 'He scrapes my mind' he had said earlier, just before passing out and starting to thrash himself out of his wits. She slightly smoothed his hair and waited. Harry stood straight again and his face was stoic.

'I thought they were dreams first, because…- it always contained him... him threatening to find me or kill people. But they were not frequent. So I kept trying to do other stuff. Find the horcruxes and destroy them or document where they were and clues. I did find few.' Harry looked at her now. Hermione thought she saw sadness there, a line of pain which he was so used to cope alone.

'You got them only when you were asleep at night?' this sounds a bit like what happened when they were in year 5 – she remembered visions Harry had. But what she couldn't understand was why he was not able to stop them being a star at occluding thoughts since age of seventeen.

'At first, so I started taking dreamless potions. That did help for some time. Not for long. I started occluding then, which did start to work. But I kept losing my grip and the visions became frequent.' Harry looked at his hands again as ashamed. 'Lost grip? How? ' Harry was one of the best occlumences she ever knew. How could he loose grip? 'You were good at it as well as Snape's good at potions...' Harry's eyes stared sharply at her for a moment with the mention of the name. Harry knew Snape practically owned the school now doesn't he?

'Visions got frequent- and once it started it lasted longer,' Harry looked at her directly now and his face empty as ever. ', and… he started torturing me.'

There was a silence.

'What do you mean?' Hermione asked in the end – Harry kept his eyes on hers and Hermione did only see calmness in there. How could he be calm when he was explaining that he was tortured?

'Time to time I would see myself with him as you are here with me now. Not always when it started, but it got frequent with time. Now it's only that.' he ran his hand through his hair maybe to remain calm himself. 'It feels real … - the pain, burning… bleeding, as if I'm physically there.' Harry smiled bitterly shaking his head lightly. 'He's ripping me apart, demanding the whereabouts. He wants me to go to him, give in.' Hermione reached for Harry's hand, squeezing it. He looks hollow as he speaks as if he's detached from himself, as if talking about someone else. 'But it's not real isn't it? He's making you see things. Provoking you to feel unsecured'

'I feel it when I'm in it, Hermione.' He said warily. 'I can't sleep.. I can't feel either. Whenever I lose grip, allow myself to feel or breath, he takes over…' Harry stands up leaving Hermione's hand carefully on the table turning his back to her. 'I'm so tired… I don't think I can hold much longer anymore.'

'Where do you go?' Hermione asked quietly.

'go?' -

'Where are you, when he takes over? What do you see around?' – 'I don't know, chambers, dungeons, stone beds. What does it matter?'

'Harry, you might be experiencing some post bad experience situation. It's common among people who went through hard times.'

'- hard times?' Harry repeated blankly turning to her again.

'Harry, I know you were kidnapped back three years ago,' Harry stared at her without any words or signs. 'I can guess the things you might have endured there,'- 'Can you?' Harry asked point blank cutting her short. Hermione bit her lip. She feared this whole thing might be a result of what he was endured to cope up after Merlin knows what in the hands of death eaters. It could be a possibility.

'Harry, I know it sounds ridicules. But you have to consider the possibilities that this whole thing might have something to do with what happened to you no matter its just four days'

'Hermione, - he said almost sarcastically. 'I'm not crazy!'

'I'm not saying that. But it can be a condition in your mind because You Know Who did play this game once. It's highly unlikely that he start playing it again let along win over it… you passed this stage of occluding before when you were about seventeen .'

Harry sighed as if he didn't want to hear no more. 'You know what? - He said emptily again squeezing the bridge of his nose. 'I can't do this now; I'm too tired to go in to another session of getting fucked. Three in a row is just enough… I'll talk to you tomorrow.'

'Harry, please… listen' – 'No listen to what I'm trying to tell you, Hermione'. Harry sounded controlled.

'I'm not sick. And I'm not crazy. YES! They fucked me big time as much as anyone can be fucked for few days, but I survived… Tom is playing me to give in. he carves rips me apart in ways you possibly can't imagine. And each time it happens, it's real to me. Real as same as this second I'm spending, trying to talk to you. It makes me weak, makes my defenses lower each time… making it harder for me to hold it next time. Whenever I'm weak or off guard it gives him a chance as what happened today. I cannot risk being off guard. I will talk to you tomorrow. Please. Go and sleep. You need some rest too'

It was a cold night. The knocks continued to hammer his doors.

Remus Lupin couldn't imagine why Minerva had wanted to visit him this late. He checked the watch. 2.24 a.m. Was it something to do with Harry? He got off the bed ignoring his protesting limbs and dragged himself to the door. He was in a small cottage in a deserted land near Hogshead. Only Minerva knew of his residence here, being its secret keeper. The three knocks and one knock followed again- the usual identifying knock of Minerva.

'Who is it?' he asked leaning to the door.

'Phoenix' a voice answered. He unlocked the door with three taps with his wand hoping to see the old stern face of the Hogwarts Professor, but instead he looked in to a much younger and a generous looking face.

'Hermione! What are you..-

'can I come in?' she asked breathless. He could see her shivering; no wonder it's a cold night.

'Yes please do. What can I do for you?' he said making space for her to enter and closing the door behind him.

The brown haired girl hastily removed her cap and looked at him as if the clock was ticking ten times faster than it usually did. 'I want you to tell me everything you know about Harry after he left us three years back until you brought him here yesterday.'

to the next chapter. Do comment