Disclaimer: I still own Darcy, I still own the plot, I still don't own the Harry Potter books.

Thanks to all my reviewers.

Mandy: As I said, the dementors have to be able to talk, otherwise how could they have told the Ministry about Sirius? Yes, welcome to Lightning's world, where everything makes sense—if you think about it.

Eclipse: I'm not quite sure I understand your question, but Donovan is Sirius's son, from an affair Sirius had before the Potters died. But please don't ask these sorts of questions, it makes me uncomfortable. As long as I don't have to think about it, I'm fine, I can just know it in the back of my head and ignore it, but... well, I'm young, so be easy on me. Please. I'm not even old enough to be part of the Adult Conspiracy (I've been reading Xanth).

ElfIcarii: Actually, Darcy is a he, not a she. And you're not supposed to know much about him. Yet. Nor are you supposed to know the main character's name, unless you somehow managed to guess it before this chapter, in which case I am very proud of you.

"Hermione." Dumbledore's voice was grave. "Come with me."

            Something was wrong, beyond the fact that the Dark Lord was in control, beyond the fact that most of the population willingly accepted his reign. The merry twinkle was gone from Dumbledore's eyes, and he looked sad, tired, old. Very old.

            She followed Dumbledore, unaware of where they were going until they reached the Hospital Wing. Of course. She needed rest, and as much chocolate as they could find.

            Then a frozen strand of flaming-red hair almost hidden beneath a blanket caught her eye. "Ron! Noooo!" She clung to his Petrified form and wept. After all she had gone through, all she had endured, with only the hope of seeing him once more, the thought that he at least might be safe keeping her sane, she had come so close to losing him. Oh, cruel fate, that would do this to her, almost causing his death when she thought she had finally gotten him back. Her only solace now was that he was not dead, only Petrified, but Petrified was enough to cause her to fear for him.

            It must have been the basilisk. It had somehow gotten into Hogwarts without being noticed, like—"The pipes. We must clog all the unused pipes. The basilisk uses them to move through Hogwarts unseen."

            Dumbledore nodded gravely. "It has already been done."

            "Luckily the Mandrakes are almost mature," Madam Pomfrey noted as she bustled about, caring for various maladies. That, at least, was good news, for it meant that her internal agony would soon end. Soon she would be able to talk with her beloved.

            "You're pale as a ghost!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "Where have you been, Miss Granger?"

            "Azkaban," Hermione replied shakily. Of course no one had heard about her stay in Azkaban—no one knew who was in Azkaban these days, except the generally disliked inmates. That ensured that no one would mount a rescue mission. But somehow Ron had known to send Deme there—or had Deme known on its own? A dementor would certainly know who the inmates of the prison were.

            "Oh, dear!" Madam Pomfrey turned to Greg and Chris, the younger set of Weasley twins. "Go get some chocolate for Miss Granger, dears. She'll need quite a bit." The hurried to obey, and their mother, Katie, Beamed her approval. Their father, George, muttered something about how they had picked up such bad habits. Fred and Angelina's twins, Frank and Mat, had a proper sense of mischief; why couldn't his?

            Greg and Chris returned promptly with a great deal of chocolate. "For you, Miss Granger," they said, bowing to Hermione. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she saw faint smiles playing across their lips, just enough to suggest that they were teasing her.

            She ate the chocolate mechanically. It tasted like ashes, but it did warm her slightly. But every time she looked at Ron, she went cold again, negating the effect of the chocolate. She had been looking forward so much to seeing Ron, telling him she loved him, but now that was impossible.

            She had loved Viktor, as well—still did, in fact—but he was put in St. Mungo's after a Death Eater used the Cruciatus Curse to drive him insane. Ron had been there to give her support, a shoulder to cry on while she grieved.

            She didn't notice when she collapsed, not did she feel the arms that lifted her into an empty bed. She only felt the emptiness inside her, a void that had been her parents, Harry, Ginny, Viktor, and so many others. Even Draco Malfoy; he had attacked another Death Eater to save her, and now he, too, was in St. Mungo's.

            She drifted in and out of sleep, hearing snatches of whispered conversation.

            "We'll have to stay vigilant. She escaped from Azkaban. The Dark Lord will try to find a way...."

            "... dementor...."

            "... disappeared. Just vanished...."

            "... all four of them? Where...?"

            "... kept saying, 'Momma....' I swear that one girl had a pet dementor...."

            "Ah, yes." An angry voice, probably Dumbledore's. "She brought it into the castle once...."

            "... just a joke...."

            "... called it Deme...."

            "... weird sense of humor...."

            "Do you think it could be coincidence, Albus?"

            "Coincidence? No, I don't believe so, Minerva, but we can ask Miss Granger when she wakes." Hermione almost opened her eyes, but Madam Pomfrey saw her stirring and put a glass of some liquid to her lips. An instant later she had sunk back into unconsciousness.

            "... pet dementor...."

            "... gone for years before the dementor came...."

            "... probably went with the rest... she was captured, and saw... told it to help us...."

            "Why the Weasleys? Why not Dumbledore?"

            "... doesn't like dementors...."

            "... set up pranks together... was Deme, right enough...."

            She stirred again, and Madam Pomfrey appeared with a tray of chocolate and more of that vile concoction to make her sleep. "You need your rest, dear."

            "... another escape from Azkaban... Dark Lord has taken a personal interest... says she's to be captured but not harmed... no, Granger's been reported as dead... doesn't even mention that she was in Azkaban...."

            She lost all sense of time as she lay there, recovering her strength. Most of the time, she dozed, but sometimes she could sleep for entire days. Those were the good times. Others she woke screaming from nightmares about her stay in Azkaban.

            "... how she made it... no energy left in her... shouldn't even be alive...."

            "... notice that his prison is empty? Too many 'dying' at once...."

            "... failed Death Eaters...."

            "... Donovan Black...."

            "... nice kid... so much like Sirius...."

            "... never would have believed it of him...."

            "... heard he escaped...."

            "... rumors...."

            She opened her eyes and sat up. "Hermione!" Ron cried in relief. "I was beginning to get worried. Madam Pomfrey stopped giving you that potion a week ago. You've been dead to the world for an entire month."

Thanks again to all my reviewers. I really do enjoy getting reviews. Suggestions are welcome. I might fight against them for a bit, but only until I regain my common sense. I really do need suggestions for the improvement of this fic, since it is my first angst fic, and no matter how evil my mood is I still don't know how best to torture the readers. So my readers will have to tell me. Pretty please with a hissing vampire on top?