It's here guys! The re-write of the century! Aha...no. I didn't want to do the same thing as my other story, but of course I made some similarities. Now, let me point a few things out. You may have liked the original better, but I don't really care. I will not be continuing it. I am a human being that happens to have no spelling ability at all. So, if you find a mistake and it bugs you so much, you can Private message me and I'll fix it. Lastly, this is a story where I want feedback for the next chapters. I would LOVE to hear what you want to happen in the story. And if I happen to use your idea, then of course you will get credit for it! I want this to be a story that you all can enjoy and one I can continue until the very end! Okay. Enough rambling. Please ENJOY!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural! If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. (I refuse to repeat this every chapter. So, read this and don't sue me).

Chapter 1

"Could you please tell me your name?" What an odd question. A very simple one. She knew her name. She knew it. It was instilled in her.

"Mudblood."

A sigh was her response. "You know that isn't your name."

She couldn't keep from being annoyed. "Mistress said my name was Mudblood. She said so."

"Okay then. Who is Mistress?"

Wild black curls flew around as a mad cackle broke the air. "Come here little Muddy! Mistress is bored."

"Mistress saved me."

"Saved you?"

The execution was coming. She had been caught. How could she be so stupid as to be caught? Just survive. That's all that mattered. Damn her heart. Damn it all. "Look who we have here! Filthy Mudblood. Last of the Golden Trio. Finally come to join your good for nothing traitors?" Defiant. She stayed silent. She was ready to die. She was ready for her suffering to end. She walked to her doom. She waited for it. She wanted it. "Avada-."

"Hold it!" Everything stopped. The world stilled. That voice. That high pitched voice of a madwoman. "I want her."

"But Bellatrix. There are strict orders-."

"Hogwash! I want little Muddy as my pet! I don't care about orders. She needs more than death." Her body went numb. She could feel her relief fall away. That hand of death that she was so ready to clutch, had retracted. Bellatrix hopped up to her with a yellow toothed smile and grabbed her face. With her pride still running through her veins, she ripped herself from Bellatrix's grip. The woman cackled.

"Still so defiant! So much spirit." Her chains were tugged so she came closer to the woman. "I'm going to enjoy beating it out of you."

"She wouldn't let me die."

"Well that's-."

"You don't understand." Panic began to ripple through her. The air grew heavy as she looked deep into the man's eyes. The man with the questions. The man that never left.

"She wouldn't let me die." He began to try and calm her down, but she couldn't. "She wouldn't let me die! She wouldn't let me die!" She struggled against the straps holding her and screamed those words. She screamed over and over again. The man called in people to help and she was sedated. "Just let me die! Just let me die!" She kept thrashing until she couldn't any more. They had stopped giving her huge doses a long time ago. The straps held her in check most of the time. Actually, this was a fairly tame episode of hers. But she wouldn't know. Her mind was too jumbled. Everything was too jumbled.

The nurses conversed outside the room while she tried to rein herself in. She wanted out. She wanted death. She didn't want to breath anymore, but she was cursed.

It was a day later when her mind got itself in check. And when that happened, she had another session. More sessions. More questions. What did they want from her? There was nothing about her. Her name was Mudblood. She belonged to her Mistress. She killed her Mistress. Then, she disappeared. That was it. Nothing else.

"Come on Hermione! Catch up. Drop some of those books would you?"

The thought was pushed away. No. She was Mudblood.

"Come on Mudblood. Once more. Scream loud for me would you?"

Hermione. Mudblood. Hermione. Mudblood. Smart. Submissive. Strong. Weak. Unique. Slave. She didn't know. She didn't know. Why was it so jumbled! Why was it not organized? She liked organized.

"Miss?" She….liked something? "Miss!" She snapped her eyes to the question man.

"Organize." His eyes widened. "I like...I like organized."

And then, a smile broke out on his face. "That's good! That's very good."

She couldn't help but smile. "I did something good?"

He nodded and scribbled in his book. "Yes! Progress. We'll get you better in no time."

The smile melted away. "Better?" He paused. He was walking on eggshells with this patient. Always careful. Anything could set off a hallucination, a panicked attack, or just a crying fit. But most of all, he wanted to prevent her from lashing out. Not because he feared for his life, but because he feared for hers. She never hurt a nurse. Never once. The only person she ever tried to hurt, was herself.

"Don't worry about it. Let's stick with organized. You like being organized?" She squinted her eyes in focus.

"I want my mind in order. It's all jumbled." He kept writing. He was on a roll. This patient had been getting worse and worse. She only told them that her name was Mudblood. She only said that she had a Mistress and she killed her. That's what made him worried. The girl is delusional. Severely scarred mentally and physically. Killing someone was not something he wanted to hear.

This was progress though. An interest. A different thought. She was trying so hard and he was proud of her for that. "I can try and help you un-jumble those thoughts."

Her eyes widened. "I'd like that. You're the best, Harry."

He paused again. "Harry? I'm Dr. Jon Talmer."

Big Green eyes that shimmered like jewels. A kind and skinny face. Black hair that would never stay nice and neat. Her hands brushed across that unruly hair. Soft. A smile was sent her way. "The chances of getting my hair to lay flat is about as good as getting your hair to lay flat."

Her hand reached out to the Doctor's unruly black hair. Her hand was stopped by the straps. But she couldn't resist. His green eyes looked at her with worry. "Harry."

"Your hero is dead!"

"No!" Her feet hit the stone ground as she broke free from the terrified crowd. "Harry!" She looked to his unmoving body in the rubble. She didn't bother looking towards the man with the face of a snake. She didn't care that she might die. She just wanted her friend. She needed him to be okay. She slid to him on her knees. Scraping her exposed skin. Shaky hands coated in blood gently turned his face towards hers.

Nothing. Lifeless. She felt something in her shatter. Maybe it was her heart. Maybe it was her mind. She didn't know. All she knew, was that someone was going to pay. Fierce eyes turned to the leader of the darkness. Her anger was explosive. Her entire being felt like it was on fire.

Without a second thought she threw out her hand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" She didn't stick around to find out if it worked. She didn't care. She just needed to get Harry out of there. She needed to let him rest in peace.

"Harry." Hesitantly, the doctor took her outstretched hand in his. It was against protocol, but he felt like she needed the comfort.

"My name isn't Harry. My name is Jon Talmer. Who is Harry?" Tears began to flow down her cheeks and her chest tightened in pain. Her voice came out scratchy and weak. Barely a whisper.

"He's gone." He squeezed her hand. "It's all my fault." The tears flowed faster and she began to sob. "I killed him! I didn't protect him! It should have been me!" He quickly let go of her hand and called in the nurses. She was having another fit. Screaming, struggling, crying. She kept asking for death and blaming herself for so many losses.

He walked out of the room. His session was over with yet another fit. He was stopped in the hall by Dr. Fuller. "Hello doctor."

"Ah. How are you Jon? Did your session go better today?" Jon hung his head in defeat.

"She was doing good. She told me she wanted to organize her thoughts. She likes organization."

"Well, that's great isn't it? It's more than only three things she knew about herself. And it's certainly more positive."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. But…."

"What?" He looked back to the doctor and pushed up his glasses.

"She called me Harry. She thought I was someone else. Someone she lost." Dr. Fuller sighed.

"Jon. You need to understand that not all progress will be good things. Some memories and emotions are painful. It's your job, to make things easier." Jon straightened his posture and took on a determined look.

"I can do it. I can help her."

"That's the spirit!" They walked their separate ways. Jon would do it. He would help his patient. It was his first case. Why on earth they would give this patient to him on his first stand alone case he would never know. But that didn't matter. He would help her no matter what.