Warnings: Madness, implied super creepy non-con dreams. Nothing specific is written—mainly because even I couldn't stomach it—but the description given is icky enough. It's right in the first paragraph, so if you want to skip it, just read past that.

Summary: Harry has gone to madness and Hermione has had enough.


CHAPTER 6

Knight in Black Armour

Bellatrix had taken to taunting Harry while he slept, filling his mind with terrible dreams of the two of them in … intimate situations. She would call him 'pretty Potter baby' and Harry would wake up screaming. Then immediately lose the contents of his stomach.

His utter horror at the situation only seemed to encourage the twisted psycho bitch, and every night his dreams featured either the one woman he hated more than Voldemort, or Sirius' constant bickering with everyone and everything. Really, Harry knew the man hated the rest of the Blacks, but he had thought the berk might give it a rest long enough to let his godson sleep.

He'd thought wrong. Whenever Sirius wasn't arguing with his family, he was muttering in none-too-quiet tones about how his godson had turned out to be a massive disappointment. Harry woke up sobbing on those nights, but nothing would make Sirius alter his stance. Not even watching his godson go mad.

Regulus soon became Harry's only real comfort. Remus had fallen too far into grief to fight Sirius any longer, and Tonks had never recovered from it in the first place. Sometimes they helped, but only Regulus fought the other voices with any regularity. Despite the fact that his voice was nothing more than part of a curse, soon he began to feel like Harry's only friend.

"There's a portrait of me, you know," Regulus said one day. "In the attic somewhere."

Intrigued, Harry climbed the stairs to the attic and hunted through piles of detritus and rubbish until he found Regulus' portrait hidden somewhere in the back. The man looked to be an adult in the painting, so it couldn't have been made long before his death.

"About two months," Regulus supplied. "I was just barely eighteen here."

"And still an arse-kissing Slytherin git," Sirius snapped.

"Stow it, Sirius,"Harry fired back, uncaring that he was speaking out loud. Everyone here knew he was hearing voices anyway—what was the point of hiding it any longer? "I'm about sick and tired of your utter stupidity. If you can't say anything nice, just shut the fuck up already!"

"Oh, go kiss Regulus' arse some more, Slytherin-lover. That's what your type does, after all."

Harry snarled. "Fuck you."

"No thanks. I prefer women!"

"How I ever looked up to you is beyond me. You're a vicious, bigoted, idiotic arsehole!"

Bellatrix apparently found the entire scene particularly amusing, judging by her incessant cackling.

Tonks, just as fed up with her cousin as Harry, punched the bastard out. "Take that, you bitter, egotistical, bully!"

"Thanks for that," Regulus said with a sigh. "He's driving Harry mad with or without the bitch's help."

"Well, I know one way to stop him." Tonks' voice descended back into sorrow. "Remy … why does everything have to hurt?"

"I … I'm sorry, love."

"Merlin, Harry," said Regulus in a sad tone. "I don't know how you're coping."

Harry laughed bitterly. "I'm not."

"Well, I'll help as much as I can."

"Regulus is always so helpful," Mrs. Black said in a surprisingly calm voice. "He's the only son of mine worth anything. Upheld the values of the family well, too."

Regulus snorted. "Even my own mother is deluded about me."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not. I know what you did. I found your note."

"You found the … h-how are you alive? It was in poison."

"Dumbledore took the poison. I didn't … didn't know what it was. We used fire to escape the Inferi."

"Ah. I had no one to take the fall for me besides Kreacher, and he … well, I couldn't do it. Once the Dark Lord had discovered my plans, I wouldn't have lived long anyway. The poison was kinder."

"Merlin, Regulus. I … is it weird that I wish I could give you a hug?"

Regulus gave a sorrowful laugh. "I would probably think you were trying to strangle me it if you did."

"Damn. What kind of fucked up life did you have, mate?"

"Sounds about on par with yours."

"That's the truth." Harry stared at the portrait, frowning when Regulus did not move at all. It looked as though he was asleep, but the portrait wasn't breathing either. Animated portraits breathed, or at least gave a fair facsimile of it. "Is it Muggle?"

"No. It … I don't know why it's not working."

Bellatrix burst into a stream of glee. "Because you're trapped here with me, little Reggie!"

Harry frowned. "The portrait doesn't work because of the curse? But then what about Mrs. Black? Her portrait worked fine."

Remus offered, "Maybe … if it's a familial curse—and with all of us stuck here it must be—then perhaps it's because the curse didn't take effect until after Mrs. Black's death. Her soul impression must have already established itself in the painting long before the curse struck. But since Regulus was still alive when the curse started, his soul impression wasn't able to establish itself in a portrait—the curse must have stopped it."

Regulus gave a noncommittal hum. "Perhaps. Either way, I'm sorry, Harry. I thought … maybe if you could talk to me outside your head …."

Harry clutched the portrait close to his chest and wept. "I thought so too," he whispered, though no one but his own mind and dust bunnies could hear.

Harry took Regulus' portrait to his bedroom and stared at it day after day, begging the boy to come to life, to speak to him, but nothing ever changed. The loss of that hope hit him hard, and soon the voices began to erode his grip on sanity. He stopped eating, stopped even trying to sleep. His health was deteriorating, but he couldn't care anymore.

He spoke to the voices out loud, telling them one day he would kill them just to make them shut up—he meant everyone but Tonks, Remus, and Regulus, of course—but his friends heard and shied away, and that made Harry sicker than even his nightmares of Bellatrix.

Hermione tried to comfort him, but he lost control of his body and Bellatrix lashed out, screaming at her and calling her a mudblood and traitor to their lord. Hermione had run from the room in tears, and though Harry's body was no longer his own, inside, he wept.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. Please … please forgive me."

"She can't hear you, pretty Potter baby." Bellatrix used his voice to cackle. "You're mine now!"

Fearful of himself, terrified of what she might force him to do, the moment he gained some control back, Harry isolated himself in the basement and ordered everyone to stay away from him as much as possible.

Regulus' portrait came with him. He hung it on the wall opposite, but no sign of life ever flickered across the boy's face. When his anger nearly overcame him and almost drove Harry to shred the portrait out of frustration, Harry bound himself to the wall. It was better that way. He wouldn't attack his friends if he couldn't move.

With nothing else to do, he Summoned books to distract him from the voices, but soon they fell to the wayside, as the voices became his entire world, and he was lost in his own mind.


Hermione was terrified. Every day, Harry lost more and more of himself to the curse. St. Mungo's was at a loss. Even with all the books they had restored to the library, the team had no answers either. Parvati kept insisting the answer was hidden in the house, but no one could find it. The Seer was miserable that she couldn't be more help. She kept suggesting they should bring in Severus, but every time they tried, Harry broke down and screamed to keep him safe.

Hermione didn't understand it. The only times Harry had calmed since being cursed, the only times he had slept at all, was when Severus stayed with him. Obviously, Harry needed him. And Severus was going spare too, fearful of why Harry wasn't letting him come near.

Torn, Hermione went to the floo and contacted Chief Robards. The older man gave her a sad look as she wiped her face and asked for Draco.

The man gave her a curious look. "Malfoy? Hmm. I would have thought you'd ask for Weasley."

She shook her head. "This time, I think I need someone who knows Severus and Harry both."

The man nodded. "Fair enough. He's just on office duty today, so I'll just transfer your floo connection to his location." His face softened. "Captain Potter is … no better then?"

She shook her head sadly. "I can't find a thing. We're trying, God knows we're trying, but it's just … I … I'm s-sorry."

He waved her apologies away. "Maybe Agent Malfoy will know some way to help. Good luck."

Hermione winced as the floo twisted and whirled about with her head still in the flames. She closed her eyes to keep from getting dizzy and, when the horrid swirling stopped, opened them again to find herself in the team's workroom, watching Draco reading through a stack of reports.

"Draco."

The blonde jumped and looked to the fire. "Hermione? How on earth did you find me here?"

"Robards patched me through."

"Patched?" Draco frowned and poked at the hearth. "The floo isn't broken, is it?"

Hermione tittered in spite of herself. "Muggle expression. It means he transferred my connection to yours."

"Ah." He knelt before the flames and gave her a searching look. "Harry's worse, isn't he?"

Tears slipped down her face. "He—he just called me a mudblood and I … I don't know what to do." She buried her face in her hands. "He's gone, Draco. The friend I grew up with, the man I fought beside—he's my brother, and he's gone. He doesn't even know me anymore."

Draco's face twisted with grief. "M-move aside. I'm coming to you."

Hermione gasped. "But you're on duty."

"Robards wouldn't have … patched me to you if he didn't know you needed me."

Hermione sniffled and nodded. "O-okay." She climbed to her feet and stepped back, and the next instant, Draco emerged from the flames and Banished soot from his robes.

"Come here," he said in a soft voice, arms open wide. "Come here and let me help."

Hermione whimpered and buried her face in his warm shoulder. "I m-miss him, Draco. I miss my brother. He's the only one I've got."

Draco slipped his hands through Hermione's hair. "What about the giant?"

Hermione chuckled through tears. "That relationship is far more complicated."

"Er …." Draco froze. "Do you still …?"

She sniffled and leaned back. "Still what?"

"Um … like him?"

"Oh, do grow up. We're adults. You can say the 'L' word." She scowled. "And in answer to your question—bloody hell, man, how stupid do you think I am? The first time we dated, we nearly levelled Hogwarts and the aurory."

Draco snickered and hugged her tighter. "Was rather entertaining to watch, though."

She swatted his shoulder. "Behave, you."

"I just had those robes pressed, you know."

"Then I'd be a bit more worried about the fact that I just blubbered all over them than a little smack."

Draco tucked Hermione's head under his chin and held her close. "I'm much more worried about you, to be honest."

Hermione sniffled and turned into his shoulder. "A-and Harry."

"Yeah. And Harry. He needs Severus. And Severus needs him."

"I … I know. I just … I don't know what to do about it. Harry is so afraid he'll hurt him, and … and I'm starting to think he's right. The man we loved is gone. I don't … don't know this person anymore."

She clung to Draco, shaking with the force of her agony. "Oh, Draco. It hurts."

He held her tight. "I've got you. Cry if you need to. I'm here."

With a bitter sob, she buried her face in Draco's shoulder and wept. Crooning softly over her, he held her until Hermione had exhausted her grief. She leaned back and wiped her eyes, and cast a Tergeo spell on Draco's uniform for good measure.

"Nothing to worry about now," said Draco with a wry smile.

She chuckled. "As long as your clothes are immaculate, you prat."

He smirked. "I do have an image to maintain, you know."

"Yes, yes, you bloody peacock."

Draco chuckled, then his expression shifted into concern. "Are you all right?"

Hermione sighed. "No. Not sure I've been all right for a long time." She kissed his cheek and smiled at his blush. "But I'm better now. Thanks."

Draco cleared his throat. "Er … it was nothing."

Hermione watched the flustered man head back to work and smiled sadly to herself. She was losing her brother, but it seemed she had gained another ally. And judging by the look in his eyes when she had kissed him, maybe something more.

With a sigh, she went to check on Harry. He needed her. Even if he no longer knew who she was.


Another week went by, and Harry no longer recognised anyone. He couldn't even take care of himself any longer—Hermione and the team had to feed, dress, and bathe him with spells and potions. Along with taking care of his other needs. All he did was stare at Regulus' portrait all day and mutter in various voices by turns.

This had to stop. They had gotten nowhere with research and Harry had gone entirely mad. They needed Severus' help if Harry was ever going to be all right again.

But after Harry had been so afraid of bringing in Severus for weeks, she wouldn't feel right if she didn't at least try to tell Harry of her plans. She doubted he would understand by this point, but she had to try.

Hermione crept into the basement, wand out in case Harry was aggressive or hurting himself again. She found the man tearing into his skin and rushed to his side.

"Merlin, Harry! Why won't you let us help you?"

She cast an immobilising charm on the tearing arm and healed the broken skin of his face and throat. Then, tears dripping down her cheeks, she knelt before the man and pleaded with him.

"Harry, don't you see it's gone too far? We've done everything we can, but we can't find the answer, and Parvati says we won't until Severus comes. We need him, Harry. You need him. Why do you keep fightin—argh!"

She stared down at her bleeding arm, cut in four neat lines where Harry had slashed her. Pain blossomed up her arms and into her chest, and Hermione's heart broke. This wasn't her Harry. Maybe he never would be again.

Harry's voice rasped as he screamed, "Get away from me, filthy mudblood whore!"

Hermione sobbed and backed away. When Harry tried to attack himself again, she cast a Somnus charm on him. He slept, but the constant twitching and muttering let her know it was no better a rest than usual and it would not refresh him.

She healed her wounds and dragged her uninjured hand across her eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry, but this has really gone far enough. We need Severus, and I won't allow you to keep him away any longer."

Mind made up and cursing herself for not listening to her common sense sooner, she marched upstairs in search of a quill and parchment. Severus would be in his lab at this time of day and difficult to reach by floo, but her owl was fast and smart. Since his shop was in London too, Dia would have the message to Severus within the hour.

That would give her time to clean herself up at least.

Still sniffling, Hermione Summoned the necessary items and began her letter.


The owl came as Severus was completing Mister Pepperpot's arthritis salve. As his lab windows were charmed not to let in owls unless it was an emergency, Severus hurried to finish the potion and put the rest of his projects in stasis the moment he could.

Dia, Hermione's owl, stuck out a leg with a hastily scrawled letter attached, and Severus' heart skipped.

Harry. It had to be about Harry. He didn't understand why the boy kept demanding he be kept away, but now … maybe he had come to his senses. One could hope anyway. He took the letter quickly and gave the owl a pat.

"Into the main shop with you, girl. I've nothing to offer you here, but Bethany will provide you with treats and a place to rest until you're recovered enough to go home."

The owl hooted and flew off. With shaking hands, Severus unrolled the letter and read.

...

Severus,

I know you're upset about Harry keeping you away. I … I'm so sorry. He just wanted to keep you safe, and every time we said you should come … he got so scared we thought it wasn't worth it. But now … oh, gods. Severus, it can't go on like this any longer.

I've been trying to find the curse she used but there's no record of it anywhere and Harry's going mad. He's sounding more like her every day. He just called me a mudblood whore. Then he attacked me!

Please, please come. I've been through every book I can think of, and it just doesn't make sense. A blood curse shouldn't do this, and no mind curse I can find even remotely resembles this one. I'm at my wit's end and so is Harry. Literally for him. Please help us.

And gods, I'm so sorry.

Hermione Granger

...

Terrified, Severus rushed to decant the arthritis salve, banished the unfinished potions—they would degrade if kept in stasis for more than an hour—and dashed into the storefront. Bethany was still serving customers, but thankfully it was almost closing time and crowds were thin.

"Beth, I've had an emergency come up. Please finish serving the customers here and close up shop. I've Mister Pepperpot's salve here, but any other orders will have to wait until I can return."

His assistant nodded and took the potion, and once he had set up a method of contacting each other and plan for running the shop, he rushed to the apparition point and spun away to Grimmauld Place. Without bothering to knock, he pushed open the door and called, "Miss Granger! I'm here. Where is he?"

A relieved voice called from somewhere beyond the entrance hall.

"Severus! Oh, thank Merlin."

Hermione appeared at the top of the stairs, no doubt coming down from the library. She was sniffling and wiping at red eyes, and Severus' heart sank into his feet.

"Dear Merlin, girl! What has happened?"

She rushed to him and threw her arms around his waist, shocking him into silence. "Oh, Severus. I'm so sorry. We should have—I shouldn't have waited—should have listened to the others, to you. Draco kept insisting, but I—I … forgive me."

Bemused, he patted the hysterical girl's head and squirmed, dismayed at her proximity. Harry could touch him without causing him upset and Severus sorely missed his affection, but that did not mean he felt comfortable being manhandled by others.

"Miss—Hermione, I … it will be all right. Hush now. Tell me what is wrong."

She stepped back and wiped her eyes. "S-sorry. I was … entirely overwhelmed."

"That is understandable. But please, I am afraid for Harry. Is he—where is he?"

She squared her shoulders and drew her wand. "This way. I … brace yourself, sir. It's not pretty."

Severus scowled. "I take it the cure is not going as well as planned?"

The girl flinched. "The truth is … we haven't found it. Harry forbade me telling you, and at least until recently, I thought … well, it's obvious I was wrong. I was only trying to do the right thing, sir, but I'm afraid I've … gods, I'm so sorry."

She started crying again, and Severus barely controlled a surge of panic. He couldn't bear it. "Miss Granger, I will deal with your indiscretions later. For now, just take me to Harry. Please."

"Y-yes, sir."

The woman made an obvious effort to pull herself together and turned back towards the staircase, but instead of heading up, she led him into the basement. Severus' blood chilled. There was nothing in Grimmauld Place's basement except the remainders of his laboratory there—really just a table and an empty shelf or two—and the wine cellar. And as Harry didn't drink, that was probably empty too.

He turned a corner and … there. Harry was lying in a huddle on the floor, asleep though his muscles twitched as if under the Cruciatus and he talked constantly. Heavy leather bands restrained his arms and legs, tying him to a pillar in the middle of the room. They left enough slack for him to lie on the floor, but not to leave the area, and Severus was horrified.

"Bad bloods," Harry muttered in his sleep, "bad blood must out. Mudbloods. NO! Not evil! I'm not. That's what you think, Potter!"

Severus' heart shattered. "Dear gods! Why the bloody hell did you not call me sooner?"

Hermione shuddered, tears streaking her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. He made us all swear not to, and just the mention of it—he started screaming and cursing, terrified he would hurt you and … he wouldn't even let the rest of the team close. We've wanted to call you for a long time now, honest. But we were afraid of hurting him when he was already so fragile."

She rubbed her eyes, but her tears kept falling regardless. "But it's gone too far now. He doesn't even recognise us anymore. He can't take care of himself. And I can't stand it one more moment."

Harry cried out his name—"Sev'rus, make it stop!"—and Severus ran to Harry's side.

"Oh, Harry." Severus healed an assortment of cuts across Harry's face, unfastened the restraints at his wrists, and ended the sleeping spell. "Look at me, Harry. Look at me. Do you know me?"

Harry snarled. "Snivellus, stay away from him! He's not yours!" He leapt, poised to attack, but the moment his hand touched Severus' wrist, he slumped over with shock and relief.

"S-Sev'rus?"

Hermione sank to the floor and gave a little cry. "Oh gods. He recognised you. He really recognised you."

Severus' chest twisted with grief. "I take it this is not a common occurrence as of late?"

"No. He … he's been talking like her for a few days, or Sirius at his worst, or someone else. Never himself. Never calling anyone by their proper name. I … it's been awful."

"Sorry," Harry sobbed. "So sorry."

Severus just held Harry's hand and remembered the time when Harry had held his own, pulling him through the night when he was weak. Now, it was his turn to hold Harry together.

"I am here now, Harry. It will be all right."

Gods, he hoped it was true.