DragonBlond: Haha… I can drive my parent's Jeep now (you know… drive. Go forwards, turn and back up… *grins sheepishly*) but I don't have my license... yet. I'm going for my G1 in the spring. Anyways… you went to Mexico! I've heard nothing but good things. But I wanna go to England, not only because of HP, but also the haunted castles and the musicals and the bistros and the... everything. I've been planning it all out *grins* Glad you like my story! C YA!

HermioneandHarry4ever: How… how nice of you. You were tired but you read my fic anyways. Thanks!

Crankywonderjoe: *reads review… makes puzzled face… shakes head with mirth… explodes with VERY loud laughter* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA… *gasp*… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! You're funny! Down with H/H? H/G rules? GOSH! You can be the world's next COMEDIAN! *sighs… continues with Author's notes* (Don't take it personally… just joking with you. Believe what you want to believe… just keep in mind that Harry and Hermione do get together… you know, so you won't be heart broken or anything. Just a warning… *grins evilly*).

Brendan: Thanks for reading! Best wishes!

Max Lonewolf: Hey, Max? Can you do me a favour? Talk so sense into CrankyJoe, will ya? Nah, don't do that. So… you used to live in Montreal, eh? That means we're enemies. You know, that whole 'separatists' thing. How's this – we pretend to completely hate each other. Yeah. That'll make us look like enemies. *lip twitches* You say 'Bonjour' and I say 'G'day, eh?' Know what? Forgetaboutit. We don't need any more havoc. I've had enough of this World War 3 rubbish……… *notices she's rambling* Okkkk… anyways, thanks a bunch, eh?

ArchForge: Interesting... that's a word for it! Thanks!

Frank: You're way off, and that makes me happy ^_^; You'll never guess why Hermione got hurt at the duel. Thanks!

Naomi Silverwolf: Confusion. That's what I want when you read this. I want you to be confused so you'll be surprised when I unveil my whole idea behind this fic. It'll be good. Stay tuned…

TheUnknown: Ron got some Spotlight, yep! I don't know what got into me.

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C'MON PEOPLE! THIS FIC IS NEARING ITS END AND ANOTHER IS ON THE HORIZON! LET'S HIT 300 REVIEWS!

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Hermione didn't know how long she stood for, unmoving in the corridor. Her kneecaps were frozen and her hands only knew to turned the book she held in wonder and astonishment, the warmth of it spreading through her like a forest fire. Her eyes never left the cover of the book, the place with the owner's name was written.

            James H. Potter, Harry's dead relative; a man who was once a loving father to Harry. This was his transfiguration book. It had to be, there was no other explanation. But why… why did Peter Pettigrew have it?  

Hermione took a sharp inhale of breath as it finally dawned on her that she was out of bed at night, with no one knowing where she was. She turned on her heels, and looked wildly around. Dread suddenly seeped inside her.

She had to leave. She had to find Dumbledore and tell him – Harry was in danger. The entire school was in danger. Voldemort was coming to the castle and when he would arrive… there would be no telling what he would do.

She had to find Dumbledore.

Swallowing hard, Hermione ran to the end of the corridor, clutching the book firmly to her chest, and hurried down a narrow passageway that she hoped was the way to the Grand Hall. The sleeping witches and warlocks and ghouls snorted and grunted in their portraits as Hermione flashed past them, not making any effort whatsoever to keep as quiet as possible. One of them, a portrait of a wizard sitting in a tavern with a tankard in font of him, fell off their stool and squealed, "Watch it, lass! I've only got two pints left!"

The corridors seemed to get longer and longer as Hermione passed them. It was when Hermione passed the owlry when she started running faster then she ever had before. Panting and wheezing, she came to a complete halt at the mouth of the corridor.

The Grand Hall was empty, but looking around, Hermione noticed a door that most of the Professors went through. It hadn't occurred to her – perhaps that was the way to the staff room.

Mentally shaking the nervousness out of her system, Hermione darted across the hall to the door. She skidded to a halt just outside it, gasped the handle and attempted to open it, but realized, with an inwardly scream of frustration, that it was locked. She reached inside her robes to pull out her wand, but forgot it wasn't with her.

"Oh, no," she choked, pounding on the door, "Open! Please open! Professor Dumbledore! PLEASE!"

"He's not in there."

Her heart stopped and her words caught in her throat. Hermione turned to flatten herself against the door. For a moment, she thought she heard a bodiless voice. But wildly looking around the hall, trying ever so much to see through the darkness, she saw something moving in the shadows between two pillars on the opposite wall. Hermione's knees weakened.

"You shouldn't be here. Not now. Not at so late at night without the Professors prowling the corridors," said the familiar voice, "Someone might think you're up to something."

The shadow moved along the pillars. Hermione could almost feel their eyes, whoever it was, piercing through her like a knife. It was a very uneasy feeling, and the figure was making no moves to advance on her.

Hermione thought quickly. Could it be Wormtail or Malfoy? Obviously, whoever was lurking there was aiming to frighten her, and it was working. Even more realization dawned on Hermione as she quickly pondered this; what if it was Voldmort?

She looked at her surroundings, her possible escape routes. There was the corridor where she came from, but there was nowhere to go that way; the other choice she had was the way that led to the classrooms, where there was a possibility a Professor may be staying late at night… but she'd have to get over the four school tables to do it. And there was another door that led to the entrance hall. Hermione looked back at the moving shadow, which was advancing on her by now.

The person stepped into the light… Hermione could see every part of him, right up to his bright eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Her knees buckled, for the person that was lurking there among the pillars was someone she knew very well.

It was Harry.

Hermione stared at him, a feeling of utter relief sweeping all through her.

"Harry, don't scare me like that!" she half shouted at him.

He didn't move; he wouldn't stop watching her. Hermione ran over to him, seized his wrist and began to drag him across the hall to the corridor that lead to the classrooms, as there was no other way. He didn't refuse.

"Listen," Hermione panted as they hurried down the corridor, "I can't believe - I m-met… er, I mean… I just spoke to Peter P-Pettigrew in the North Tower corridor! He took the necklace you gave me for Christmas when I was asleep in the common room and he said that You-Know-Who was planning some kind of plan to hurt you!"

She kept her hand firmly clamped over Harry's wrist as they ran, full-out, down the corridor past classroom doors. Hermione didn't looked twice at the closed doors… if someone was up, preparing a test or writing new work for tomorrow's class, they would surely leave the door open and a light on inside.

"He said that someone would kill him if he didn't obey doing something," Hermione continued as they rounded a corner, almost skidding into the opposite wall, "He didn't want to admit he hurt your parents in any way. He didn't want anything to do with it! So he warned me about You-Know-Who and he dropped a book… I don't know what's inside. You'll never guess who it belongs to." They ran to the end of the corridor and Hermione paused to open a door, "Harry, It belongs to-"

She came to a complete halt. She expected Harry to run into her from behind, but he didn't. Perhaps he was amazed at what had happened too, for the door they had went through was the same door Hermione thought lead to the staff room… the same door she was begging to open before Harry appeared. It was unlocked.

"What the-"

Hermione looked around the hall in frustration. Her eyes landed on the door that lead to the entrance hall.

"C'mon, Harry, we have to find Dumbledore! There's no other possible way we could go!"

She didn't drag him across the hall this time; she bolted to the door, suspecting that Harry was soon to follow, and seized the door handle, but again, it was locked.

Hermione was starting to get aggravated. She put all her weight on the door, but no avail. She looked around at Harry, who was standing a few yards away from her, watching.
            "Don't just stand there," she grunted, "Help me!"

She proceeded to push open the door. No footsteps came from behind her. Hermione didn't see Harry standing next to her, helping her with the door. She looked back at him, annoyed.

"Harry, help me with this door!" she hissed at him.

"No, I don't think I will."

Hermione looked over at him again, groaning in exasperation, wondering how Harry could act like such a prat at a time like this.

"Harry, this is no time to-"

She stopped speaking almost at once, for she noticed something she hadn't before. Harry didn't look right; he looked malicious, with a hard grimace and his eyes were so cold. He slowly walked up towards her as though gliding, and looked down at her.

"Stop trying so hard," she said softly. Then he sneered.

Hermione's mouth trembled, not knowing what to do.

"Hermione Granger," said Harry, "Do you think you know what you are doing?"

Hermione stared at him. "W-what are you talking about?"

Harry laughed softly. The foreboding he brought amused him. He brought his wand he held to her face and gently lifted her hair from her eyes.

"You are up to something, aren't you?"

Hermione gaped absentmindedly. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way? There was surely something dark about him… like he was being controlled. There was just something not right with the feeling in her stomach.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked him seriously, her voice trembling slightly, "You're acting strange."

He smiled.

"So you've noticed?" he told her. His eyes gleamed crimson for a moment, the moonlight falling across his pale face, "You've noticed that the great Harry Potter is acting differently, around you? What makes you think that I do not act like this regularly?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Because Harry would at least feel a sense of knowing when something is not funny."

There was something not right in his eyes. They didn't show any emotion with Hermione's last comment. Hermione's stomach dissolved, realizing something.

"W-who are you?" Hermione found herself asking.

A soft, sharp chuckle answered her question, and Harry spoke again, this time with utter scornfulness.

"That's really not necessary. You wouldn't bother, nor would you like to know-" he took a careful step forwards. Hermione backed up against the door – her heels hit the door.

"Do you realize what you've just done? Can you comprehend what will happen now, after your foolish mistake? You've willingly told me everything I've wanted to hear… for so long," said Harry. He touched her hand, and Hermione violently pulled her arm away. His eyes grew hungrier and his thin lips were in a grimace. "You're a clever individual, Granger. Top of the class, would-be Head Girl… but I'm afraid that you've lead this world of ours to… deteriorate." He laughed softly, approaching the trembling girl. He raised a cold hand and gently caressed her cheek. Hermione felt a tear fall down her cheek as her lip trembled helplessly. "My dear girl… you're killed the Light Side without lifting a delicate finger."

"W-what do you mean?" Hermione murmured, tilting her head so his fingertips left her neck.

Harry smiled at her, his eyes gleaming red again. They were sincere, but they had none of Harry's kindness. In fact… they were hollow and cold. But they were bright. Just like Harry's.

"Pettigrew was here on an assignment, Granger. He's been following you and your friends ever since Hogwarts… on the grounds, in your lessons and your dorms… he's been following you particularly for the past few months Granger. Because you had something I wanted. Do you know what that is?" He touched her hand, but Hermione pulled her arm away and pushed herself out of the space between him and the locked door behind her.

Harry advanced on her again, this time pulling out his wand.

"Ever since I arrived here, on account of Peter Pettigrew's messages, I've been quick to notice every move you made, every step you'd take, every single mistake you made… and still, my plans have been twisted and altered," continued Harry, an almost hungry look in his eyes now, "It's only a last resort that I've made my presence known here in this castle… on account of a very ill-advised mistake Peter has thoughtlessly made."

Hermione's lip quivered, but she couldn't help but wonder if Harry had finally gone mad.

"W-what's wrong with you? Who are y-you?" she blurted out in a rush of words.

She immediately regretted speaking. Harry grimaced, and twirling his wand between his fingers, approached her until there was barely any space between them. Hermione could feel his cold breath on his neck, but she couldn't move. His wand was prodding her in the ribs, and she was sure that wasn't accidental. He wanted to frighten her.

"Potter is very taken with you," he hissed in her ear very softly, "I've poked around in his thoughts, pushed past all the debris of the pointless schooling, and provoked his most deepest secrets. I can tell you some of them, if you have no objections." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, trying her hardest not to cry out in pain as he pushed his wand farther into her side, "The death of his parents frustrates him deeply… he feels that he doesn't assimilate… that he's utterly unwanted in a place like this. More importantly," he exhaled deeply, as if a small laugh escaped him, "he fears fear."

Hermione couldn't take it any more. She didn't understand what was going on… this wasn't Harry. Harry wouldn't do this to her, hurting her with his own wand, trying dearly to frighten her, breathing down her neck like he knew no sense of personal space. With a cry of frustration, she ducked beneath his elbow and pushed herself away.

"Stop!" she cried, "I don't know what you're on about, but I certainly don't need to hear it, because… YOU ARE NOT HARRY!"

Harry's look softened, but the grimace on his face was clearer than ever. He thrust his wand out in front of him; Hermione screamed and ducked, thinking that he was going to curse her, but found that he had merely aimed at the stone ground before them. Hermione looked up and with a startling jolt, saw what he had done.

He had summoned some sort of swirling ball of flames. It hovered just above the ground, creating a very eerie glow all around the hall. It was so bright Hermione had to cover her eyes, but at the same time she realized that there were two dark, shapeless shadows within the flames.

Behind the flames stood Harry, who was watching Hermione, his eyes flashing.

"And this is what Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived… fears."

The ball of flames erupted all at once like a small explosion and the shadowed figures collapsed on the ground. Hermione watched, aghast, as the figures took the shape of a bundle of robes… it was two wizards. They were surrounded by misty, red light, pale faced and eyes closed. But there was no denying their gaunt faces.

It was Ron and Sirius Black.

"OH!"

 Without thinking, Hermione made a desperate attempt to run to them, but Harry's booming voice stopped her.

"DON'T MOVE, YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD!"
            Hermione, tears falling freely from her eyes, fell to her knees in defeat. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing hysterically. She knew she couldn't do anything; she was powerless. Harry had Ron and Sirius. It was obvious that if she tried anything, he'd hurt them.

Harry started speaking again, this time, his voice deeper and colder, most unlike Harry in every way. It froze Hermione's insides.

"Harry Potter's greatest fear reveals a sign of complete weakness!" he hissed angrily. His voice was coming closer, but Hermione didn't look up. "The boy who defeated the Dark Lord has a fear… of causing pain to those near him. Those he loves."

Hermione stopped. She looked up. Harry was only a few feet away from her, a spineless, revolting sneer set on his pale, ashen face. His eyes… they were reflecting the red light that was emitting from Ron and Sirius… but were they?

Harry raised his wand, and pointed it at Hermione.

But Hermione didn't have time to retaliate… to move away.

His wand erupted.

"CRUCIO!" he shrieked.

There was nothing to prevent the pain Hermione was about to feel. Her very head was going to explode; her bones were like scorching hot irons; the feeling of knives piercing through her skin spread throughout her entire body, agonizing her to a point that she wanted to die there. She screamed like she thought she never could… it was pain beyond anything she couldn't ever imagine. And to think… Harry had gone through this before. Harry had once felt her pain. No… she felt his pain.

"It is my greatest pleasure to see Potter suffer, Mudblood, and for that…" said Harry, his wand still raised. He jerked his wand upwards, making Hermione shriek the way he longed for her to. His lips curled into a twisted smile. "-I need your soul."

Hermione felt her knees leave the ground… her legs straightened out and her feet dangled freely. She didn't know what was happening; she couldn't open her eyes. Not now. By the time the last of her screeching pain left her lips, she was exhausted. She tasted the salt of blood and she could feel it run down her face.

Then all at once, she heard a booming voice hiss a command, and suddenly, she found that her legs and arms snap to her side. Even if she wanted to move, she couldn't.

"This is where I take revenge, Mudlood. This is where I teach the Great Harry Potter that he is as insignificant as the rest of the people in this pathetic world!" shouted Harry angrily, his voice deep and cold and icy, not like it was before, "I will bring his fear, the fear of causing hurt to those he knows, into his past, present and future!"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling from her cheeks onto her front, and waited for the worst…

"And you, Mudblood, cannot possibly stop me. No wand. No magical blood. You're worthless… just like Lily Potter. It's a pity you'll end up like her-"

Hermione waited for more, but he had stopped completely. She had just enough strength to look down, where she saw, far below her, Harry was standing, looking right at her. His face was expressionless.

Then the strangest thing happened. It was like Harry was picking a fight with himself. His face tensed, and his mouth was no longer in a grimace, put a pained scowl. He made a noise of frustration, and at the same time, his hands gripped his hair, eyes squeezed shut.

Hermione, though very little strength left, had enough will to at least try to see what was happening to him.

Harry looked like he was about to put his head between his knees, still gripping her hair, when suddenly, he snapped back up and his eyes flew open. Then he shrieked something that was the least expected. But his voice has changed to Harry's. "STOP! YOU FOUL FILTH! YOU'RE PATHETIC!"

And once again, he found Hermione, suspended in mid-hair, blood falling from her face to her robes barely able to look back at him. His mouth fell open and his face contorted to astonishment.

Suddenly, there was a deafening BANG from the other end of the Grand Hall. Hermione could have sighed of relief; it was the door. Someone was coming to rescue them.

But Harry didn't make a move to hurt Hermione. In fact, he dropped his wand with a clatter. Hermione watched the puzzling scene below her; Harry slowly started backing away, eyes wide with terror, his eyes traveling from Ron and Sirius and Hermione… he wasn't even aware of the Ministry wizards running towards them.

"Defectis!" someone shouted. There was a blast of orange light, and Hermione felt herself falling. She landed on something soft.

It was very blurry after that. Hermione felt someone putting her on her feet, and she leaned on whoever it was. There were voices everywhere.

"Get her to the Infirmary, quick. The Matron is awake and waiting-"

"He's caused quite a bit of damage."

"Black! Sirius Black! Look here-"

Hermione's legs were very wobbly. She could barely stand. Her head was pounding. The person holding her had half carried her to one of the house tables – Hermione didn't know which – and laid her down on it.

"Get this boy out of here. He's caused enough trouble."

"Sir… he won't move. I think he's paralyzed-"

"He certainly is not paralyzed! Get him to the dungeons at once!"

Hermione, breathing deeply, opened her eyes. She saw he matron rushing towards her with a stretcher, her face paling at the sight of her lying on the table. She saw the Ministry wizards, all in which were shouting angrily, dragging Harry across the hall.

Hermione watched his face. He was still watching her, looking panic stricken. The Ministry wizards had managed to drag his tense and unmoving body to the entrance of the corridor at the end of the hall and as Hermione watched, he suddenly looked like he realized what was happening.

"HERMIONE!" he shouted.

It sounded like Harry. It even looked more like Harry now, but Hermione didn't understand it. He started thrashing, trying with all his might to get out to the Ministry wizard's grasps. He was trying to get to Hermione.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE, IT WASN'T ME! I DIDN'T MEAN TO-"

There was nothing Hermione could do to prevent it. The wizard on the left of Harry seized a bludgeon from his belt. He hit Harry over the head with it. Harry collapsed, his head falling to his chest.

It was the last thing Hermione saw before she slipped into unconsciousness.

…~'*'~…

There was a clink of keys followed by a scraping of feet; then the sound of a cell door screeching open.

Harry didn't resist the entire way down to the dungeons. Nor did he plan to. One of the wizards who brought him here, whose face he dared not look at, pushed him ruthlessly into the cell. Harry didn't even raise his hands in an attempt to stop himself from hitting the opposite wall; he hit it and slumped to the bottom, his shoulders stinging with pain.

The men who had brought him here locked his cell and left the dungeons, slamming the door behind them.

Whether what had happened was a dream or it was a cruel, inhuman joke, Harry kept his eyes closed… remembering the way Hermione looked when he laid eyes on her in the hall. The blood running down her face, her barely open eyes… the look on her face…it made Harry's heart stop. She looked so afraid, yet weary. Harry knew it look her great will to look down at him, to see what the matter was. And he had no recollection of what he did to her, Ron and Sirius. What was he thinking?

Harry didn't know how long he sat, motionless in the cell he was condemned to… his cell. He looked around at the place where he knew he was going to spend the rest of the year.

Green water dripped from the ceiling to a puddle of the substance in the middle of the stone room; there was a metal tin and goblet on a moldy green tray in the corner. The only light came from the small bard gap that was obviously held in place by magic. His entire cell was protected my magic; the walls glistened green even as he looked around. There was no way he'd got out by force.

Harry's lip curled into a hard grimace.

BANG!

The door at the end of the passageway outside Harry's cell burst open. Several new voices were heard. Harry, breathing hard, expecting a Dementor, drew his knees to his chest and lowered his head. Regardless to whom it was, he didn't want to see them.

Three Ministry wizards hurried inside, their footsteps echoing off the walls as they ventured down the row of cells. The man ahead called McNair glared inside every cell, looking for some form of life until he stopped to the very last one. The boy was huddled in the corner, his head buried in his robes. His thin lips curled into a twisted smile.

"Here," he said to the others following, "is the boy who caused this disaster. The people he attacked are unconscious. Barely breathing. The Matron of this school is doing all she can to revive them." He paused, "Despite who the third victim appears to be."

They watched Harry for a moment.

"I suppose… it would be fair to, ah, question him?" said one of the men. Harry recognized this voice.

"Nonsense!" said one of the men who was without a doubt Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, "The boy committed a serious crime! He's dangerous… very deranged! What's more, I specifically saw him – this boy – using a most unusual spell towards the girl in the infirmary! He was watching her, wand at hand!" He spluttered for a moment, finding more words to say, "He's a menace to every student in this school. Merlin knows who he's after, the bloody rogue."

Silence followed. Perhaps they were waiting for the boy in the cell to react with the last comment the Minister made.

"So as to where he's staying, Minister," said the other man hesitantly, the man whom Harry found very familiar, "I do not agree with this dungeon."

"He'll stay here for as long as I like… until we find a place in Azkaban for him."

Harry gritted his teeth, clenched and unclenched his hands and swallowed the rush of words he longed to shout.

            "So… he'll go to Azkaban… for life?" continued the man. Harry recognized his voice now. His stomach fell in realization… he clenched his eyes closed, fighting the prickles in the corner of his eyes.

"I will take this particular issue in my hands. The poor people didn't need this, during the Tournament" said Fudge somberly, "And Arthur… I'm sincerely sorry about your son. He was a good lad."

Fudge had never really met Ron. He didn't speak more than a sentence to him. Harry's throat burned in anger; if they didn't leave soon, Harry would certainly do something drastic to stop Fudge from telling lies.

They left the dungeon. One man stayed behind. He gazed through the bars into the cell at the boy who hadn't moved since he had entered. He wondered if he had really done this; Molly adored him and he was such a good kid. Did he really possess the will to put three people whom he loved unconscious?

"Get out of this one alive, Harry. Ron would have wanted it that way."

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A/N: *sigh* One more exam to go… Cosmetology. That won't be difficult. Math was unbearable, but English was OK. I've got accounting, art, photography and Biology next semester.

Anyways, you can guess why I'm a little sluggish on this chapter. All those late night study meetings with my friends. Well, I'm getting through it and I'll finish this. Yep… I will. Thanks a bunch everybody! Luv yahs!