Loser. The word was still ringing in her ears. Her feelings were torn to pieces; her heart was ripped to shreds. She was struggling to see through her tears, struggling to breathe through her gag. Suddenly she didn't even know her own name… all she knew was darkness.

Then quite suddenly Hermione Granger was much younger then she last remembered. Memories came flooding into her brain. Memories of when she would lay under the stars, dreaming. Since she was 10 she would dream of that perfect man, although she didn't quite know what that meant. She would dream of meeting someone who would understand her. Someone who could relate to her pain, realize that there must be more to her life than meets the eye. Her life was this: wake up, go to school, get made fun of for being a teachers pet, come home, and go to bed. And so the cycle continued. There must be something more.

Hermione's brain was struggling to re-awaken, and only then did she realize that she had fallen asleep. She suddenly became aware of the discomfort her body was in, but as she struggled to move, she realized that there was nothing to be done for it.

The ground beneath her was cold, and the surrounding walls of gray were not helping the feeling. Sharp stones were digging into her back, almost as if she were lying on glass. To her right, there was a barricade of bars, working together with the other 3 walls to block her in. The ceiling was low, and all that was good for was making Hermione feel even more trapped.

As the feeling came back to her legs she moved them beneath her, willing them to support her weight. They did and slowly she walked to the bars. She was looking out into a narrow, cement hallway and feeling of confusion increased. Why was she here?

Before she knew it, she was slipping sideways across the bars, and was once again on the ground. Her eyes couldn't close fast enough for her to fall asleep.

Quite suddenly, it was the summer before her 12 birthday. It was July 31, to be exact. A most unusual thing happened that afternoon; a tall, brown, horned owl swooped through her open family room window. Hermione and her parents, who were watching a television program together, screamed so loud that it was surprising that no one in vicinity called the police. The owl dropped a letter into Mrs. Granger's lap and swooped back out the open window into the hot, humid air.

Studying her mother's face closely while she read the letter, Hermione saw the expression change from fright, to confusion, to anger, to bewilderment and she instantly found herself curious to read the pieces of yellowing parchment. There were 3 sheets of paper now being held in her father's hands as his facial expressions went through the same series as her mom's did. When, finally, it was her turn with the letter she founds giddy excitement bubbling up inside her stomach.

'I AM A WITCH?'

Hermione awoke, back in the present still with the happy butterflies swirling in her stomach. It took a moment for her to realize why she wasn't still jumping for joy in her canary yellow living room, while shouting at the top of her lungs. Then the drastic reality of her situation came flooding back to her. She was a captive of Lord Voldemort.

For Hermione now knew why she was here. Her two best friends in the world; Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, had convinced her, one afternoon, to come with them on an unauthorized trip to Hogsmeade Village by means of a certain secret passageway leading directly into honeydukes' cellar.

It was right there in the cellar that 6 death eaters attacked the 3 of them. They had no where to run, no where to hide. They tried to fight, but they were outnumbered 2 to 1. Hermione had suddenly found an old tin kettle being thrust into her hands, and before she had time to release it, she felt as though a hook was being jerked from just behind her navel and she was forced irresistibly forward.

A hooded figure was approaching by means of the dank hallway. Hermione found herself shaking as he drew ever closer to her, but he did nothing to hurt her. All he did was throw her a disgusted look as he thrust some food between the bars letting it fall to the grimy floor. 'Filthy mudblood', he muttered as he pulled the wad of material from her mouth before turning away and allowing himself to be swallowed up into the darkness.

Only then did she realize she was crying, only then did she know how hurt she felt. But that's what was so confusing, why did she feel hurt? There was no reason to feel hurt; no one had betrayed her…had they?

Then the darkness came once again. Not the darkness, please, not the darkness. Hermione had learned to hate the black, cold, still air that surrounds you when darkness comes; for it is there that all terrible things happen, unseen. Please, no more pain, no more death, no more suffering…and her wish was granted...for the moment.

A sudden wave of nervous excitement flowed into her that for a moment she felt light-headed. Looking around she realized that she was in Hogwarts, re-living her own sorting ceremony. She gave an inaudible gasp as her name was called and eagerly jamming the hat on her head, she was startled to hear a voice talking in her ear.

'Hmmmm...Yes...you are quite difficult… Very intelligent, I see… But brave as well… You would find your kind in Ravenclaw, people quick-witted, just like you. Yet I can't help but think you belong in Gryffindor, you will face more challenges there…yes that is what I decide…GRYFFINDOR.'

Applause then filled the great hall as Hermione walked over to the proper table and breathed a sigh of relief.

Interrogation. It was the one thing Hermione could not stand, could not bear. All of the questions being fired at her one after another. And that was exactly what she found when she awoke. Whenever she chose not to answer, or couldn't, a curse was being thrown at her. Crucio, more often than not, was what was they were hitting her with.

They just didn't care. Didn't care what pain they were putting her through. And pain was something she could not endure. They knew she knew. That was why they were doing this to her, they knew she knew something that they needed to know.

'This could be over as soon as you give us some information.'

'I will never give up.'

'Just tell us what they are planning.'

'I will never give in.'

'What is the Order of the Phoenix doing?'

'I know nothing of the order's plans.'

'Crucio.'

Quite suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. It was pain she could not endure. It felt like a thousand needles were being repeatedly poked into her skin. It felt as though someone had just pushed her into a fire and the flames were slowly burning her alive. When the wand was finally lifted it left her muscles aching. Her brain was unable to cope. She lost consciousness.

In Hermione's dream state more memories came flooding back to her. But not specific events, merely flashes of different occasions, more often than not, horrible ones. She was crying as she saw a red-headed figure un-conscious on a giant chessboard. She was scared out of her wits for the split-second before being petrified as she saw a giant snake approaching in a mirror. She was yelling as she watched a giant dog pulling Ron underneath a tree. She was struggling to stay awake, as a hundred dementors approached her, Harry, and Sirius from across the lake. She was clutching her face in fear as a blurred figure swerved around a giant dragon. She was sobbing into her pillow with the fresh memories of her and Ron's latest row still fresh in her mind. Then the memories came too fast to separate. They were flashes of faces, and death eaters. Feelings of anger, and sadness. Feelings of love.

But suddenly all of that was blocked out of her mind. One memory came flooding back and it was like barriers in her mind came crashing down. Things she did not remember, did not want to remember suddenly forced their way through. She was back in Honeydukes' cellar fighting with the death eaters. But Harry and Ron were not helping her. They were holding her back, making it easier for the Voldemort's supporters…was this why she felt betrayed? How could they allow her to be captured? How could they help her to be captured? How could they assist the Dark Lord?

She awoke screaming louder then she had when the cruciatus curse had been on her mere minutes ago. Screaming, hoping that the pain of all she had remembered would somehow leave her. Her throat would soon be torn from all the yelling.

In a cell a long way away, yet in the same building, Ron Weasley, heard the scream and recognized it to belong to Hermione, the woman he loved. Her pain suddenly fell onto him.