DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 3: The Prison Cell

Harry! Harry! Wake up! These voices echoed inside Harry's head as his bright green eyes slowly flitted open. Deep, frightened brown eyes stared back at him.

"Hermione?" He asked slowly. His tongue felt like lead.

Hermione nodded faintly. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry I got you into this mess. I was so stupid, so careless...oh god, what are we going to do?"

"What happened?" Harry asked, slowly recovering himself. "How did we get here?" The black-haired boy looked around at his surroundings. Sheer stone walls with sharp edges gleamed back at him. In the corner he saw his relatives huddled together fearfully. "What are they doing here?" he asked, pointing at his family.

"Er...well...I don't know, I was just about to ask you the same thing," Hermione replied. Harry shrugged. She continued, "The most important question is, how do we--all of us, mind you, you can't leave the Dursleys behind--get out of here?"

Harry felt his scar briefly. "It's all right for now, but I don't think it will be later. Voldemort brought us here, or his Death Eaters, obviously. Who else would do this? Who else has a room like this?" He looked around at the cell again.

"Well..." Hermione had no answer.

Harry suddenly felt a small burning from his scar. "He's coming," the boy said shortly. "He's here."

Hermione realized that nothing could be done, and they sat down to wait in despair. Harry's pain increased as the Dark Lord came closer, and his frustration too.

Voldemort suddenly appeared in front of them, as if he had Apparated. Harry clutched his scar. Hermione shrank back in terror. Voldemort, the Dark Lord. She finally saw him and realized Harry's horror and grief from the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. A hairless, scaly creature, white as a skeleton but with flaming red eyes, stepped toward the two friends, smirking as he drew near.

"Mr. Potter," he hissed, as if he were a snake. "I see you have finally arrived. Ah, your friend too. Your contemptuous Muggle family also." He threw a glare at the Dursleys, who were still huddled in the corner. "Perfect, perfect. Delightful indeed." Harry tried to look up, but the pain in his scar and his recent grief prevented him.

"You," Voldemort said sharply, addressing Hermione. "Get up."

Hermione got to her feet, trembling.

"You're coming with me," the Dark Lord said. Before she could cry out, Voldemort grabbed the brunette's arm and vanished instantly. Harry looked up in horror.

"Oh, no. No." The black-haired boy said, shocked. He sank to the floor as the full extent of the preceding event sank down upon him. "Please no."

The Dursleys remained in the corner silently, watching their relative despair. Dudley moved forward hesitantly. "Harry..."

Harry looked up, eyes red with grief. "She'll die," he said in a quavering voice. "He hates her kind. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have been her friend. It'll happen to everyone." Harry's voice choked up. "It already did. Cedric. And now Ron, and the Weasleys, and even Cho. Because I was so fair...so just. It's all my fault. I should have learned to be tougher when I was little. You should have taught me. Oh, god." He covered his face in his hands again. "You should have taught me," he repeated in a muffled voice.

Dudley stared at him, not comprehending. He then moved quietly back to the corner and let Harry weep.

"Please don't die, Hermione. Please don't let him kill you," Dudley heard his cousin say quietly. "Be on your guard, Ron. I'm not there to help you anymore. Cho, forgive me for his death. Please just...everyone forgive me. For my stupidity."

Dudley turned away as Harry looked up and tears streamed down his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."