"Crucio!"

Hermione's arms dropped to their side, she screamed, the pain splitting her head open like a coconut. Tears ran down her face. Just let it end, just let her die from her wounds and the torture that never ended. But no matter how much horrible pain she endured, she wouldn't betray him or the others.

"Crucio!"

Her body convulsed, arms stiff and the scream escaping from her own mouth – oh God, let it stop.

"You should be grateful the master is letting you live", cackled Bellatrix. "Let's try this… one – more – time. Stone, where is it?"

The passage of time had been lost to her. She had tried to escape, fight her way out, paid dearly for it.

Memories of her happiest moments with her parents, Harry, Ron, her friends begun fading in her mind, replaced by suffering, blood and darkness. Hoping that Harry would save her… that's the only thing keeping her from giving up.

Hermione gasped for air. "I've told you… I won't tell you."

Bellatrix's face turned into a furious mass of murderous intent. She drew a small dagger, hovering it over Hermione's eyes.

"I will make myself… very clear", Bellatrix's uneven and black teeth grinned, bloodthirst gleaming in her eyes. "You're Potter's squeeze, isn't that right?"

Hermione whimpered in agreement, trying prevent further pain dealt out by the mad witch.

"Isn't that right?" screamed Bellatrix, laughing at Hermione's sudden howls.

Shaking, she stared back at Bellatrix.

"If you want to return to him, you'll tell me where the bloody Stone is or I'll turn you into pretty little pieces!" spit flew as Bellatrix kept yelling.

Bellatrix's knife sliced across Hermione's face.

Hermione shrieked in pain, the fresh wound stinging as the mad witch breathed down at her.

"I think you're enjoying this. You are enjoying this, aren't you?"

The knife dug into her gut.

Hermione cried out, wailing and screaming for him to save her from this horrible existence. Her ears were ringing, the pain made her wish she was dead.

Bellatrix pulled out the knife and tossed it on the ground.

"Harry, please! Where are you?" Bellatrix mockingly repeated. Hermione burst out into sobs.

She backed away from Hermione, walking in circles, laughing and pointing her wand at the younger witch.

"Don't worry, love. He will come for you, but neither of you will leave."

Hermione laughed. She didn't know why, but she did and reveled in seeing the utter flabbergasted look on the Death Eater. It was just such a twisted situation, so twisted that all she could do was laugh.

They expected Harry to be beaten by a couple of Death Eaters. Spider-Man, beaten by Death Eaters.She bellowed louder, the laughter overtaking her.

"You're going to be sorry", said Hermione.

"Shut your mouth you filthy Mudblood!"

Bellatrix raised her wand.

A familiar voice spoke, a voice that warmed her up and made her feel brave. "Hermione?"

Something broke in the distance. Crack.

"Bella", said a voice, almost too quiet for the human ear. A man in a purple robe walked up to Bellatrix, who turned around.

Hermione couldn't see the man's face properly, only the slick oily hair on his head. But she recognized that oily, crawling voice. Snape.

Harry had been right to never trust him. As if her thoughts had summoned him, he stood next to her, but he looked off, coming straight out of a dream. "Hermione? What is this?"

She could see him stand there, but he didn't do anything to help her, he just observed in confusion.

"Is this a memory?" said Harry.

"What do you want?" growled Bellatrix. "I'm busy! Go and play with a cauldron, Severus. Or kill more old men, I don't care which!"

Something pulled Hermione away, far away from the Malfoy Manor, back to the present in the pocket dimension.

Screaming in pain, Hermione, Harry and the two Spider-Persons flew through and past a spectacle of light and colors, something that looked like planets or giant multi-colored fish passed overhead.

It felt like apparating, but worse, instead of the sensation of going through a garden hose, she was the hose. She hit the ground.

Hermione opened her eyes, a body weighed her down and she saw it was Harry. Harry's wide green eyes stared into hers, paralyzed, holding her in a vise. His facial expression was locked in that of pain and anguish, she would've believed he was dead if he wasn't breathing.

Hermione heaved herself up, somehow even with her husband on top of her she managed to sit up. The witch didn't move, scared and wondering what got him so spooked.

"Harry?" said Hermione cautiously. She tried to pull herself out of his fingers hooked into her shoulders, but he held her in too strong of a grip.

Around them the fighting had stopped, the two malevolent Spider-Women knocked out cold, thankfully.

"What happened?" one of the Parkers asked.

Hermione bit her lip anxiously, keeping her eye on Harry who only lay still on the ground, holding her and refusing to let go, staring into God knows what.

"I don't know", she answered.

She reached down for his face, wanting him to stop scaring her like this; wanting for him to be his dorky old self. Her hand clasped around his.

Was this how it ended? How Harry just stopped working and resided somewhere deep in his own mind?

She was aware of everything he had to carry, of course she was aware, how couldn't she, after all she had been with him through almost all of it.

Everything he had gone through, all the pain stored up inside of him must eventually break a person. All the people he had lost. If it was possible, she would let him shift some of that pain over to her, so she could carry it for him.

There was no sign of where he had gone off to into his own mind. Could it be that the brain could only handle so much traveling between realities, pocket dimensions and whatever else? For all she knew, all of the traversing he had done between realities had finally ruined him.

"Harry please. Come back to me", whispered Hermione, cradling his face. "Please snap out of it!"

His only reaction to her words was the lids of his eyes closing shut.

He was shivering, reminding her of that one time he had been in a complete state after that blasted spider had bit him – of course she hadn't realized that at the time and assumed he was horribly sick.

Was he cold? How would she be able to relieve him from something she didn't understand?

Her first reaction was to draw her wand and cast at least a dozen healing and refreshing spells, but none of them worked. Harry still didn't move.

"Someone please help!" Hermione cried over her shoulder.

Several faces looked back at her, many of them unsure of how to react. The Weasley's were occupied with Ginny, who still hadn't woken up, everyone else were either too busy arguing amongst themselves or just having no idea what else to do but exist.

The two Spider-People that had come with them here marveled over their surroundings, exclaiming loudly about the colors and the people standing out to them in the crowd.

Stephen Strange left the ground and hovered over. He landed softly next to her and Harry, his cape fluttering.

Hermione turned her pleading eyes to the Sorcerer Supreme. "Please sir – Strange… Stephen! Help him! I don't know what's wrong."

Strange curiously tilted his head. His cape folded neatly when he crouched down on his knees at Harry's side. "Huh." Was all he uttered.

What did he mean with that?

Those two Spider-Men – that had followed Harry, Ron and her through everything – came running up the stairs, eventually followed by a very concerned mrs Weasley.

Tears still running down her face, she turned helplessly to Hermione, now with two unresponsive people she deeply cared about and one gravely injured.

"Is he—?" she whispered, lips trembling.

"No", Hermione snapped.

At least she hoped it wasn't so, that the boy—the man she had fallen in love with wasn't gone.

"Thank God", whispered mrs Weasley.

Strange made an odd diagonal gesture with his fingers, his hand begun drawing symbols and shapes burning with an orange glow on Harry's chest.

Hermione wanted to ask what he was doing, but she saw the intense concentration on his face and knew that wishing people would be quiet when she was concentrating on something, she kept silent and let him work.

Ron and Tony joined them shortly, both with varying amounts of worry displayed on their faces, Ron with his mouth ajar at the sight of Harry. His eyes were bloodshot and he already wore the same despair on his face that Hermione felt in her heart.

"What happened?" asked Ron. "Hermione?"

Hermione sniffled, having a hard time realizing Harry might not come back. "I don't know. M-maybe he hit his head on something o-or—"

Ron looked down on his best friend who lay unresponsive.

"Mate?" a hopeful smile appeared through Ron's tears, his lips too quivering. He blinked away a tear in his eye. "He's gone, isn't he?" Ron huffed out a sharp gasp, sort of like someone had punched him in the kidney, and slowly, the despair in his face overtook the shrinking smile and his head sunk down.

"No!" yelled Strange, the resolute sparking in his eyes, kneading his hands together, creating a magical knot out of nowhere that turned into a glowing slithering coil resting on Harry's chest.

"Then what?" said Peter with the hint of a confused grimace on his face. "What even happened?"

Hermione shrugged, her hope withering for every second that passed.

It was not the best feeling having no clue what he was doing, honestly it stressed her out; usually she would be able to pinpoint exactly what something meant or what was happening, but not this time.

Hermione swallowed, her mouth dry as sand. Taking in deep calm breaths, she reminded herself that being with Harry had taught her that it was okay to not be a human encyclopedia and stop agonizing over that fact.

She glanced at Strange, hoping to get an answer without being an annoyance. Strange noticed her impatience, and answered, but he didn't look at Peter when he did. "Multiverse travel is volatile and unpredictable, especially for the inexperienced or reckless. From enough exposure the mind and body eventually collapses, unless you're…"

"You", Peter ended his sentence for him, looking over at him

Strange tilted his head a bit, grimacing in a way that said he didn't exactly agree with that statement, but nodded either way. "If you want to simplify it like that, sure."

A chilling feeling spread along Hermione's neck, crawling down her spine, her heart skipped a frightful beat. His mind and body was collapsing?

Would he ever be back to normal?

Strange murmured something under his breath.

"But he'll be fine, won't he?" asked Peter.

"Either this spell, will wake him like nothing ever occurred", a few couple of tiny sweat-drops rushed down Strange's temple, who was clearly straining under pressure.

Ron lifted his head. "Or?"

"Or he'll die. Simple as that."

Hearing these words, Hermione's stomach balled itself up into a time-bomb of uncanny terror.

She swore that she sat still, yet she had the sensation of wagging back and forth next to Harry's side, focusing on his face which was turning into a worrying shade of white. His chest moved slower.

"What's happening?" questioned mrs Weasley, such horrific fear on her face had Hermione never seen.

A tiny whimpering noise escaped her mouth, coming so unexpected that it made her jump.

Without wavering her eyes away from Harry's face, her fingers frantically searched for his hand and squeezed, his hands were still caked in dried blood.

She felt like throwing up looking at him, lying there like that resembling a corpse, and her heart was on the cusp of breaking and turning into dust.

A few tears ran down his face. For what reason she didn't know, she could only wait and hope Strange knew exactly what he was doing.