A/N: Finally! I'm sorry about the long wait, I've just been so busy, had so much to write (I finished one of my other longer stories, so I have more time for this one now), been so stressed, and had a bad case of writer's block. But now you have the ninth chapter, and I hope that you enjoy it. It coversa fair amount of space.

Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews. I can't tell you how much I like them, and having people tell me what they like about my story. Thank you all, readers and reviewers.

And now, chapter nine...

Chapter 9: Selfish

Morning was a headache and a sharp reminder of where she was. Hermione had been dreaming, dreaming of home and her family. It had been so peaceful, so…so wonderful, that for a moment she had forgotten that she was a prisoner here. The light, glancing in through the window, had pierced through her eyelids and woken her, knocking her out of the dream.

Her head throbbing again—her body still hadn't recovered—she opened her eyes, blinking in the brightness. Morning.

With a groan, she let her eyes close again. She didn't want to wake up. For a moment, she imagined that she was back at school, at Hogwarts. There, she had always been awakened by the chattering of the other girls. So often she would lie there, half asleep, smiling to herself as she listened to someone stressing and asking everyone for help as she scrambled to finish her homework. Hermione always had hers done the night before, thus warranting more time to sleep.

There were some times when she would wake up early and talk with the other girls. Every so often she would be included in the discussions of boys and clothes and makeup. Every so often she wouldn't be Hermione, the bookworm, but Hermione, the normal girl, who enjoyed just being a girl. Some times it would annoy her, all the petty talk.

But given where she was now…

She groaned, flipping her body over. Her face pressed into the pillow, she willed the tears back. She wouldn't cry. Not now, not…not until she was free.

Hermione wondered how long it would be before they came to take her before Voldemort. Or, rather, when he would come, for Hermione had no doubt that it would be Malfoy who came to get her.

She needed a shower. And a change of clothes. Or should she wait until after…she let that thought drift away. She didn't need to think about it. She didn't want to think about it, but it was always there, in the back of her mind.

What would happen today?

She rose from the bed, unsteady on her feet, and stumbled towards the bathroom. At least she had a bathroom. It was strange, really, that he would allow her to stay in a room like this.

Then she thought back to what Malfoy had said, about how Voldemort wanted her to feel safe in this room.

It does make sense, she thought, turning on the tap and letting ice cold water run over her hands. In a twisted sort of way. I suppose—well, I've never been through something like this before. I guess—

She cut her thoughts off again as she heard the creaking of the door. Her entire body tensed, and she took a moment to splash the water on her face. They could wait, at least a few moments.

The door had no lock…but she needed to go to the bathroom…

She opened the door and looked out into the room. No one, just the usual tray of food on the ground. She gave a sigh of relief, then returned to the bathroom.

Eventually, when she had cleaned herself the best she could and used the bathroom, she sat down before the window and picked at the cold food. Porridge, water, and a hunk of bread. Same as before.

Her stomach growled, feeling distinctly empty. It reminded her that she had only been eating one meal a day, and that each meal had been just like this one. The lack of food made her feel weak, made her stomach feel as though it were caving in upon itself.

Using her fingers, she tore apart the bread, placing a chunk in her mouth. She tried to eat slowly, tried to savor each bit, but it didn't work. She was simply far too hungry and consumed the bread within minutes. She took longer to eat the porridge, drinking a few sips of water in between bits.

It still wasn't enough, she realized when she had scraped the last traces of porridge from the bottom of the bowl. It wasn't enough for her to live on. She wondered how she was going to survive, how this small amount of food that she got every day was going to support her for however long she was here.

Setting the bowl on the floor, Hermione looked out the window. The sunlight that had been there earlier was gone, vanquished by the fog that had closed in. It had become so thick that she could only see the tree directly outside of the window, and no further.

The sun hadn't been that strong when it had been out, either. Bright enough to wake her up, but no brighter. It was as if the world was reacting to Voldemort's return, turning cold and harsh, a horrible place to live.

She shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms. She hated to admit it, but she was scared, more frightened than she had ever been. There was no way for her to know what was going to happen. She worried about Ron and Harry, out there all alone, she worried about Christabelle, she worried about her friends and family who she hadn't seen since the beginning of summer. But most of all, she worried for herself. It was selfish and she knew it. Wasn't she allowed to be selfish, especially now?

Hermione hated herself for thinking like that, but it was true. At least, it was to her. After all, Ron and Harry weren't here, suffering in her place.

Still, she wanted to know where they were. She hoped that they had not decided to come after her; if they had, it just might be the one thing that would cause her to fall apart. Yes, Harry had managed to get out of all his confrontations with Voldemort, but that didn't guarantee that he would be able to rescue her and still come out of it alive. Hermione was not more important than the rest of the world. She knew that. And if Harry was stupid enough to come and get her, forsaking the rest of the world…she just might wring his neck before Voldemort ever got to him.

Well, he wasn't that stupid. Neither of them were…she hoped.

The door creaked and Hermione turned her head, looking to see who had come. Sure enough, there stood Malfoy, one hand still on the door.

"Up, Granger," he said gruffly, remaining there. "I'm sure that you know where you are going."

Hermione inclined her head, then rose to her feet. Her stomach still hurt, as did her head, but she tried not to show it. Besides, she didn't like feeling this weak, so she would try not to act as though she were helpless.

"Yes, I do." She attempted to smile, though it turned out as more of a grimace. "You've come to take me back to Voldemort."

Malfoy nodded, reaching out and tapping her wrists with the tip of his wand. Ropes sprang out of nowhere, wrapping themselves around her and binding her hands together. She winced, feeling the rope dig into her skin.

"A little tight, isn't it?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he grabbed her by her bound hands, dragging her out into the hall. "And what do you want me to do about it?"

Hermione remained silent, waiting there as he locked the door. She could have run, but she didn't feel up to it. After all, he appeared to be quite a bit faster than she was.

Then he took hold of her wrist again, pulling her along roughly as he hurried off down the hall. Hermione was used to this by now and was able to keep up, though every once in a while she would stumble. Today, however, she didn't fall, and for that she was very glad. She didn't want to rely on Malfoy any more than she had to.

There were more Death Eaters around this day, standing in hallways, walking up the stairs. Hermione felt chilled to the bone, wanting to shrink into the shadows. On a normal day…well, she had faced them several times before. If she had her hands free, had her wand, had eaten enough, she would probably not be so frightened. As it was, she was positively terrified. It didn't help that she knew she was being taken to Voldemort. It didn't help one bit.

In her selfish, selfish way, she hoped that Harry and Ron would come for her, if only to get her out of this mess.

And she hated herself for that thought.

Once again, they arrive at the doors. Once again, Malfoy threw her inside. No, wait, he didn't. He pushed her inside, a little roughly, and shut the doors behind her.

"Well. Hello again, Hermione Granger."

Hermione looked up, seeing Voldemort standing there. What could she say? She was before this person—was he even really a person?—who scared the hell out of her. What could she say… "Hello, Tom Riddle."

She saw him flinch, though she may have imagined it. It might not have been a good thing to say that. It really might not have been a good thing. After all, he was the one who controlled whether she lived or died at that point.

"Or would you rather that I call you simply Voldemort?" Damn it, she couldn't stop. She was so scared that she just…it was the only thing that she had control over. Her words.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. What was she, suicidal?

Voldemort stepped towards her, setting one hand under her chin and forcing her head upward. "Don't say my name so lightly, Hermione Granger."

"Oh, I am so sorry, my lord." Maybe it was because she was so hungry. Starvation could do that to someone, couldn't it?

"The words are right, Hermione Granger. But the tone…especially after I have been so kind to you."

Her eyes narrowed. "You haven't been—" Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. She shouldn't have said that. She shouldn't have said anything like that. She should have just kept her mouth shut, from the moment she walked through those doors. The twisted smile on Voldemort's face made her insides freeze.

"Yes, Hermione Granger. I have. I doubt that you appreciate just how kind I have been to you."

And then all that existed was pain. Spreading all around her body, hurting her, tearing at her. She thought that she fell to the ground, screaming. But she wasn't sure. All she was sure of was the pain and how much she wanted to die.

She thought she heard words. Though pain-obscured eyes, she realized that Voldemort had hold of her head, holding it in his long fingered hands. The only word that she recognized was Harry.

…

A hundred or more miles away, a boy doubled over, screaming. His clutched at his forehead, curling up in a small ball on the ground.

"Harry! Harry, what is it?" Ron crouched on the ground beside his friend, though his eyes darted around the forest fearfully. No one was around, but sound could carry, and the last thing that they needed was company at that moment.

As soon as Harry had begun screaming, he stopped. He lay there on the ground, gasping for breath, sweat running in beads down his face. He raised a hand to his face, covering his eyes.

"What happened, Harry?" Ron asked again, sitting back on his heels, wand ready in case anyone was around.

Harry let the hand slid down his face, so that he could see Ron. "Hermione," he said hoarsely, closing his eyes. "He's—he's hurting her."

Ron tensed. "Are you—are you sure?"

Harry nodded, breathing harshly. "Yes. So badly.

Ron rose to his feet, grinding his teeth together. "I mean…damn it, if he hurts her--!" He bit down on his lip, then shook his head. "Harry, are you sure? He's done this before, with…" He let his voice trail off, but Harry knew who he was talking about.

"I think that he guessed we might think that. Ron, I just…I know that he really has her. Besides, we know that she was taken."

Ron nodded. "Yes, we do. But—"

"But what, Ron?" Harry pulled himself to his feet, running a hand over his scar. "He spoke to me."

"What?" Ron wheeled around, eyes wide. "What did he say?"

Harry took a deep breath before he began to speak. "That if I don't come for her, then he will…he'll torture her, every single day."

"Well, so we just—"

"He also said," Harry continued, his voice harsh and strained, "that when I do come, he will kill her."

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by Harry's attempts to catch his breath.

"H-how do we do this, then?" asked Ron, sounding completely at loss for what to do. "We can't win—"

"I know that!" Harry spat, his face twisting. "I know that! Why else do you think Voldemort told me that? We either let her suffer, or we go and she dies! Damn it!" He turned, slamming his fist into the trunk of a tree. "You know that I don't want her to be hurt! You know that!"

"Harry, I—"

"Damn it!" Harry's voice broken and his shoulders slumped. "He leaves me no choice."

"What are we going to do?" repeated Ron, afraid of what he was going to hear. He half hoped that they would be going for her…but he knew that they couldn't.

"We have to leave her," he said, sounding defeated. "We just…we can't risk it, Ron. We have to find the remaining horcruxes. Once we do that, then maybe…"

Ron closed his eyes. "I know, Harry. As much as I want her to be safe, to be with us, we can't just give up. If we go, he'll kill you. And you don't have a chance of killing him if we haven't destroyed all of the horcruxes. I—" His eyes flew open, bright with hope. "Harry, I just had an idea! I'll go. He won't be suspecting me, and even if he catches me…well, you will still be alive."

"Ron, I might need your help. How can…?" He let his voice trail off. "Get her. Save her. Do whatever you need to, just wait until we have finished with this one horcrux. I don't know if I can destroy it by myself."

Ron inclined his head. "All right. It shouldn't take more than a day or two, should it? I hate to leave her there, but you're right. And then, once we are done, I'll go. All right?"

Harry nodded, a very small smile on his face. "All right."

…

"You shouldn't have done that."

Hermione groaned, her head rolling to the side. She hurt all over, though the pain was no longer immediate. She wasn't even sure where she was, but the voice wasn't Voldemort's…and it sounded very familiar.

Something cool touched her face and she tried to open her eyes. They remained shut tightly. She just didn't have enough energy to move.

"It was very stupid of you, you know. Taunting him like that. You should have expected this." She felt a small amount of water drip into her mouth, but she wasn't able to swallow. For a moment, she thought that she would choke, then someone massaged her throat, causing her to swallow the liquid. Her throat was raw from screaming and the water hurt as it went down, and yet it helped at the same time.

"W-wh—" She tried to speak, though only the beginning of the word came out.

"Don't talk. It will only make it worse." More water, and the same technique used to make her swallow.

She recognized the voice. How could she not? After all, he was the person who seemed to be around her the most these days. But why was he helping her?

She forced her eyes open, though they remained out of focus for a few moments. Then she found herself lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her room. It was still light out, or rather, it was still half-light out. It was never truly light when fog covered everything.

Malfoy was sitting next to her. What in the—why was he here? She frowned, and that small action sent waves of pain through her head.

Why was he helping her?

All he did was confuse her. She never knew how he was going to act, what mood he was going to be in. He just kept succeeding in surprising her.

Was he really the same Draco Malfoy that had taunted her and insulted her while they were at Hogwarts?

She knew the answer to that. No. Just as she was no longer the same Hermione Granger that had hidden behind her books. They were two different people.

How could she expect that he hadn't changed? She should be so vain as to think that he was the same person.

But had the changes been good? At times, she thought so. Especially now, when he was helping her. At others, she wasn't so sure.

He had changed so much, she couldn't help but wonder what he had gone through, what had happened to him over this summer that had done this to him.

And from the way he acted, from the things that he kept saying, she was sure that it was nothing good.

A/N2: I had something in mind for what I wanted to say here...but I can't remember.

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Harry and Ron returned, and now they have an idea of what to do. You won't hear about how they get the horcrux because a) this story focuses on Hermione, and b) the entire thing is so comples that I don't want to have to write another plotline entirely.

Thank you all for reading, and reviewing (if you do).

Raven

Oh, and I will try to get the next chapter out much faster.