A/N: So, I don't have much to say, except from here on out, the plot is picking up speed. I hope you like the chapter. And if any of you like Soul Eater, check out my oneshot 'Clouded Golden Eyes.' Blatant self-advertising aside, I don't own Harry Potter (which should be fairly obvious.) Enjoy!

Hermione stood up shakily. She felt dizzy and disoriented, and unsure as to exactly what had happened. She remembered struggling, trying to get to Harry and help him, the blackness creeping up on her, and then...nothing. She glanced around the small room and her eyes quickly fell on the small figure huddled up against the wall on the opposite end of the cell, watching her fearfully.

"Harry!" she gasped, running over to him, horrified. Tears sprang into her eyes as she saw the state he was in, missing his right hand, his left eye punctured, his body covered with cuts and bruises. He flinched away from her violently, bringing up his arms to protect his face.

"See what you've done to your friend, little girl?" asked the dementor.

"What I've...no...I can't have done this! You're lying!"

The dementor just laughed. A cruel, cold, sadistic laugh that echoed around the room. Harry continued to shake in fear, screaming in terror when she reached forward to comfort him. She felt her heart breaking, shattering into a million pieces, as she realized that what the dementor had said was true. She had done this. She had turned her best friend into a broken mess, she had cut off his hand and driven a knife through his eye, she had covered him with cuts and bruises.

And that's when the memories came flooding back, the dementor not allowing her the ease of not knowing. She was forced to remember every drop of blood, every shriek of agony, every plea to stop. She was forced to remember her insane laughs, Harry desperately trying to reason with her, bring her back from the depths of insanity, before the words turned to screams and the blood started flowing.

She hated herself. If she had just been a bit stronger, if she had just resisted the madness, her friend wouldn't be sobbing on the floor, terrified of her. Yes, the dementor may have tortured him anyway, but she would have at least been able to comfort him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she murmured, sitting in front of him, tears still running down her face.

Then the blackness returned. And this time, she knew what it meant.

Ron was getting worried. He and Hermione had been in the hospital wing, watching over Harry, when she had run out in tears. He had let her go, thinking that she needed some time alone. But that had been five hours ago. Now, teachers were scouring the grounds, using tracking charms to hunt her down. They had discovered that she was somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, and thus, he was not allowed to assist in the search.

He currently sat in the Hospital Wing, refusing to leave his friend's side, for what reason, even he didn't know. Several people had been in and out to try to persuade him to leave, but he refused. Many of those people ended up joining his vigil for an hour or two.

It was getting really late, and Madame Pomfrey had just shown up to kick him out, when a light appeared down the hallway. As it got closer, he could hear voices arguing, screaming, even some that sounded like the person were weeping. The door swung open and the search party poured into the room, Hagrid, who was in the middle, carrying a limp form with bushy brown hair...

Ron wasn't aware that he was getting up from his chair until he was on his feet. His mouth dropped open in horror and he ran forward on autopilot, unable to control himself. Not Hermione, please Merlin no, not Hermione too.

Madame Pomfrey shakily pointed a finger at a bed next to Harry's. Hagrid, taking the hint, placed Hermione tenderly on the bed.

"What happened?" asked Ron, though he already knew the answer.

"I'm sorry," said Professor McGonagall, tears gathering in her eyes as she stared at the two prone figures lying side by side, "but Hermione has suffered the same fate as Harry." The stern teacher just couldn't bring herself to say 'Kissed.'

"No," whispered Ron, backing up and slumping back into his chair. "This can't be happening, it just...can't. Why? Why them?"

And then the tears, which had before been held back by the crushing numbness that had overtook him, began to flow down his cheeks. He let out a choked sob and put his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

"Contact Hermione's parents," said Madame Pomfrey. "Harry's relatives...and Ron's parents as well. He needs someone right now."

McGonagall nodded and left the room. So did the other members of the search party, some stopping to pat Ron on the back or whisper something to Harry and Hermione. Soon it was just Ron and Pomfrey in the room. She knew not to disturb the grieving redhead, knew that he needed to come to terms with the fact that his two best friends in the world were both gone. Forever.

Ron reached out, taking Hermione's hand in one of his own, and Harry's hand in the other. He gazed down at the faces of his two soulless friends, seemingly just sleeping. And that's when he spoke.

"Was it the same one? The dementor that took Harry's soul...was it the one that..."

"Probably."

Ron stood, letting go of their hands, rage and determination shining in his blue eyes. "Then I'm going to find it. I'm going to find it, and kill it. I don't care if it takes me the rest of my life, I will get them back."

McGonagall walked in just then, followed by Hermione's distraught parents, Dumbledore, and Harry's aunt, who actually looked slightly concerned. The Grangers ran over to their daughter's corpse, taking in her peaceful expression and even, calm breathing. Mrs. Granger fell to her knees, bursting into tears, while Mr. Granger just looked numb.

Harry's aunt walked over to him, gently taking his hand. Their was actually a flicker of grief in her eyes, if you looked close enough. He was, after all, her last tie to her sister. He was related to her, even if she hadn't treated him the best over the years. He was still her nephew, her sister's son. It was just a pity that it took his soul getting sucked out for her to realize that.

Mrs. Granger stood, fury in her eyes. She whirled around to face the Headmaster. "YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED SHE WOULD BE SAFE!"

Professor Dumbledore looked down, and in that moment, he seemed every bit his one-hundred-fifty years. "I know. And I swear to all of you, I will put every effort, every resource I have, into getting their souls back where they belong."

McGonagall put in her two cents. "It wasn't Professor Dumbledore's fault, Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Dursley. If anything it was that idiotic Minister of ours. It was him that ordered the dementors onto the grounds, without even thinking of the outcome. He didn't even listen to Dumbledore when he protested against it."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Be that as it may, I should have been more vigilant. I should never have let the dementors even get close to either of these children."

Mr. Granger spoke for the first time. "It sounds to me that you put every bit of effort you could into the dementors being here in the first place, yes? It was the Minister who insisted they be placed here?"

"That is correct."

"You also have a newspaper exclusive to your world?"

"Yes."

"In that case, I would like to speak to a reporter from that newspaper. Preferably the one who can easily ruin a man."

"I will contact Rita Skeeter imm-"

Dumbledore paused as he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

A small rat was scurrying out of the hospital wing. The boy was as good as dead. And now he had a Master to find. Now that the Dark Lord's biggest opponent was out of the way, it was time to help bring him back. He just had to...

"Immobulous!"

The rat froze in place, and an old, wrinkled hand picked him up.

"Hello Peter. Long time, no see."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Hermione whispered, rocking back and forth as she stared at Harry in horror. He was flickering faintly, his soul almost completely extinguished by the python, only made weaker by Hermione's torture. She knew that it wouldn't be long now. She knew that her friend's soul would be completely destroyed, and then it'd be gone forever, like Harry had never existed.

The dementor had forced her to torture Harry once again, leaving him without a left leg and with Dark Marks burned and carved into his skin. It had then made her relive the memories, before murmuring that it wouldn't be long now and leaving the two alone. Harry's screams echoed around the room, growing fainter and fainter as the python leached off of his soul. She had the feeling that, once Harry was gone, the python would start to consume her too.

And the dementor would probably decided to torture her. Not that it hadn't already, but only mentally. Never physically. When Harry was gone, that would change. Not that she cared much. She deserve every inch of pain that she bestowed on Harry, and then some. She was a wretched, wretched person and she didn't deserve to exist anymore. She had reduced Harry, who had saved her life and offered her friendship, to a sobbing wreck, trembling and shaking, screaming in fear if she so much as moved. She wasn't even sure if he remembered her for who she was anymore, the friendly if slightly annoying bookworm, who cared about him and who was his friend.

Had she made him loose his mind entirely? And how long, exactly, had they been trapped here?

"Hello?"

The voice was faint, raspy. It wasn't one she had ever heard before. Had someone come to save them.

"Who's there?"

"Hello?" she called back, causing Harry to flinch at the sound of her voice, curling into a ball and screaming as the python squeezed around him yet again.

A young woman, maybe twenty-five or so, stepped from the wall into the small cell. She looked at the two of them in horror. Hermione knew that they must look terrible, her eyes red from crying, covered in Harry's blood, him completely transparent, tortured to the brink of insanity.

"My God, you're just kids!" the woman gasped, running forward to try and pull the python off of Harry. He shrieked and tried to scuttle backwards, but failed miserably.

"Leave me alone! Please!" he yelled, bringing up his arms to defend himself.

"What did this monster do to you children?" asked the woman, directing the question at Hermione. Hermione could see that she bore several scars of her own, and was down a few fingers and her left ear. Still, she wasn't nearly in the state Harry was.

"She took me over!" sobbed Hermione. "She made me do this!" A wild gesture at Harry. "I-I didn't mean to!"

The woman made a sympathetic noise. "I've seen this before," she murmured, almost to herself. "Shh...shh...it's not your fault," she said, wrapping Hermione in a hug.

Just as Hemione was about to deny it, claim that it was her fault, they heard a scream. A scream of agony. But it wasn't Harry. It wasn't the woman. It wasn't her.

It was the dementor.

A/N: Le gasp! Sorry for all the cliffhangers on my stories lately...*sheepish grin* they're just so much fun to write! Toodles for now!

-Winged Quill