Author's Note: I'm sick again. I won't be surprised if I'll die young. Anyways, thank you for reading. Please leave a review.

Chapter Thirteen

Hermione laid on her bed that midnight. She was facing the window. The lightning storm was gone now and it was replaced by the clear sky. The full moon shone and the moonlight caressed her soft face.

Memories of that day flashed in her mind like old reels in the movies. It was like a bizarre dream was playing over and over, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"...not you, Mudblood whore... You'd be the last thing I want..."

Voldemort's face warped, and a small black space like a blackhole sucked everything in the vicinity. Hermione felt herself being pulled into nothingness...

...

Harry's face flashed next. "Hermione! Help me!" Blood flowed down from the corner of his eyes and his eyeballs went all black.

He slumped on the floor and hundreds of Dementors fed upon his rotten flesh.

...

She stood over a cliff, the wind brutally grazing her skin, leaving with it ugly small cuts. Blood marked on her clothes. She closed her eyes as the pain in her body increased.

The sound of the howling of the wind was replaced by blood-curdling screams. Men, women, and childrens' shrieks drowned the night and a sudden chill ran over her.

She opened her eyes, and there below the cliff was a sea of naked people. Their hands were raised to her as though seeking for salvation. She knew could not save them. The seawater was replaced by blood and Hermione could almost taste the copper on her tongue as she inhaled air.

...

"...Hermione..."

"...Hermione..."

"...Hermione..."

...

Hermione was standing in the middle of the Black Forest, her loved ones encircling her. Their feet never touched the ground and they glided softly.

Harry... Ron... Sirius... Remus... Tonks... Fred...

"...Hermione..." they kept chanting, drawing nearer to her everytime they did so.

"No... Please..."

Fred's mouth opened. But instead of his voice, it was of a little girl's. "We won't hurt you..."

The voices dropped. "...we're you're friends, remember?"

"Come..." they chanted again.

"No... no... NO!!!"

Hermione woke up and she gasped for air. It was a horrible nightmare. One that she prayed would not happen again. As she sat up, she realized her body was covered in sweat. The event had left her a trauma and she wondered when it would go away. Voldemort's effect on her was instantaneous and Hermione suddenly understood how Harry must have felt when he was dreaming every night of Voldemort. She and Ron had not been comforting enough during those days. They were always berating Harry that he should directly go to Dumbledore and tell him he had a nightmare. She realized it must have been hard for him, even embarrassing.

Getting out of the bed, she pulled on a new nightdress from her cabinet. She disposed of her sweaty one and swiftly put on the new one. She hit the bed again.

The moon was still high. It must have meant that she had only slept for an hour. Hermione counted the stars. There were only a handful of them, some were blocked by the clouds. She forced herself to think of happy things. Her parents must be sleeping right now with Crookshanks on the blanket, warming their feet. Their house must be one-hundred percent pest free now and her parents would always give Crookshanks his favorite tuna.

Hermione had paid a visit to her parents a week ago and left Crookshanks. After discovering that Harry had that dream again involving Voldemort, she thought that another "thing" was beginning to form again. At that time, she didn't know what. Hermione feared that he would come to get her parents. But instead of giving her parents fake identities again, she secured her home with complex concealment and security charms she knew. Her spells was even stronger now than before and she was confident anybody who had bad intentions could not pass through her barrier. They shared a cup of chocolate before she decided to go. Jane and Purvis Granger must have realized that they would not see their daughter again for a very long time, and so they filled the short time together with memories of Hermione's childhood. It took Hermione all her strength not to cry.

She had left Crookshanks and the feline had meowed in protest. He wanted to be there with his master and protect her at all cost. It took Hermione almost ten minutes to get out of the house's door until she convinced the cat that he could not go with her. But Purvis Granger had helped her of course, by opening a can of tuna in the kitchen. The door to Crookshank's heart was a piece of tuna. How sad.

Hermione sighed. Somehow, thinking about her parents and Crookshanks made her heart feel light and it was now easy to think of different happy thoughts.

Soft wind flowed through the open window and the relaxing breeze caressed Hermione's face. The wind had felt like this this evening. Smooth and healing. She breathed everything in and she smiled. Severus Snape's face came into mind, and she smiled even more.

"Never do that again, Hermione..." he had said to her up in the Astronomy tower. His touch tingled her skin. He spoke her name as though it was sacred, and at the same time, beautiful. No man had ever made her feel so vulnerable.

For a moment there, Hermione thought she could read his mind. Their eyes were locked onto each other and she didn't want it to end. His coal-black eyes spoke of yearning.

She had looked at his beautiful body that stood there as he told her what happened to him that day. Severus Snape had saved her from certain death. She owed her life to him. Countless times already, he was always there at the right time and he would save her and her friends, even when she was still a student. What could have happened to the three of them if Snape hadn't been there to protect them from Remus' werewolf form? If he wasn't muttering countercourse under his breath as Quirrell tried to dislodge Harry from his broomstick? If he did not send that silver doe to the Forest of Dean? If he did not act as Dumbledore's loyal triplespy?

A lone tear dropped from her eyes. Hermione had been terrified when she found out her magic failed her. It was Severus who rescued her from Knockturn Alley and brought her here at Hogwarts. It had been he who painstakingly concocted the difficult Reniscantiae Potion. He didn't ask for anything in return. All he wanted to do was to help her and was content to see her regain her magic everyday. He was there when Ron could not and when Harry was not.

What could have happened to her if he wasn't there to save her from Voldemort?

Severus Snape was battered and broken. But she was glad that she was now there to help him find his way.

Hermione Granger slept soundly that night, her last thought was that her hands intertwined into his.

o O o

"We've done everything we can to find him, Minister," the Head of the Auror Department Don Perry said. "I've sent all one hundred top Aurors to search the country and not one had found him."

"Well, that's because you're not looking at the right places, Perry," Shacklebolt growled.

Don Perry's face flushed pink. He was still doubtful that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. How could he? He had seen Potter defeat him at the last battle at Hogwarts. He had slumped dead on the floor of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Perry had seen to it that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's body was burned until only ashes had remained.

His gaze fell on Snape, and he narrowed his eyes. It was him who told the Minister about all of this. Snape was granted the Order of Merlin First Class and whatever he said, the Minister was convinced it was true. And all the other Wizengamots.

Perry was woken up in the middle of the night to have this emergency meeting. He could not believe that he's spending the efforts ofhundreds of his men for this little nonsense! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was not back, of that he was so sure.

Snape was lurking inside the shadows of the small room. But even at the darkness, Perry knew he was also looking at him. So what? Let the man know he hated him.

"Where would you suggest on searching then, your Honor?" he asked through gritted teeth. If Shacklebolt noticed Perry's irritation, he did not say it.

There were fourteen other men and women inside the room: the twelve members of the Wizengamot, Headmistress of Hogwarts Minerva McGonagall, and Snape. The Minister's head scanned the crowd and he stopped when he saw Snape. "Where do you think, Severus?" Of all the wise people here, why should the Minister ask the ex-convict's stupid opinion?

Snape's low baritone voice filled the room. "I would suggest the least populated places, Minister. Forests and small villages should not be overlooked. The Dark Lord had spoken of his plan to Her-- Miss Granger at the Burrow. He is planning to collect his Death Eaters again. As I have been informed, there are five other well-knowned Death Eaters still lurking outside Azkaban, and two of those are being suspected dead."

Everyone listened intently. Everyone except Perry. He would not let a mere Potions-Master-ex-Death-Eater tell him what to do. Forest and village my arse!

"I would also suggest tightening Azkaban's security. What I mean is putting more than the usual number of Aurors guarding the place. The Dementors had once regarded the Dark Lord as their leader. It is not impossible that they would do it again."

Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded to Perry's distaste. "Very good, Severus. We will do that." And then he turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, the opening of classes is next week, am I correct?"

"Yes, Minister."

"Hogwarts is a much safer place for the children, I would say. I was informed that you along with the board of governors had all agreed that school should not be postponed. I, too, agree with you."

McGonagall gave him a tight smile. "Thank you, Minister."

Shacklebolt nodded. "I will assign about twenty skilled Aurors to help you with the security, Minerva. Is that alright?"

"Yes, that would be enough. I'll ask Professor Flitwick to tighten our barriers."

"Good." The Minister turned to face Perry again. "If you find him, Perry, do not kill him. You shall not give him unnecessary harm. Please tell your men that. Voldemort is inside that boy's body." Perry flinched at the mention of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's name.

What a load of bullshit. Voldemort was back and inside Harry Potter's body. That was very hard to believe. And even if that was true, the Aurors would likely disobey his orders not to try and kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They don't want to endanger their family anymore and killing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would give them security. Even fame.

They wouldn't care about Potter. But even though all these things was going on inside his mind, he said, "Yes, Minister," obediently.

o O o

Yaxley was looking out of the small cottage's window, as if waiting for someone to arrive. Macmillan and Prutton were looking at the thin man wearily. They were hungry and tired. Three days ago, they had found this safe haven. There wasn't any reason to hide in another location quickly. This was a safe place for now.

Their Mark was now hurting constantly. The pain did not go away. Prutton had almost scraped his skin off when Macmillan found out what he was doing. He wanted it to stop. To hell with the Dark Lord. But he was glad he hadn't done it. The Dark Mark was not skin deep. Once you have it, it'll never come off. The Dark Mark was just a sign that they were Voldemort's property. And his ownership even goes to their blood.

"He will come," Yaxley said in a whisper. His voice was hoarse. They hadn't eaten or drunk anything for two days now. Prutton thought he sounded scary. Even looked like Death already fetching them.

"Don't you think that we should be the one looking for him, Yaxley? He is our master, after all," Macmillan said.

"No." Yaxley's eyes never left the space outside the window. "He is finding us right now, and he's going at the right direction. I can feel it." Finally, he turned to the two. "And we will be rewarded."

o O o

"Let me OUT!" Harry shouted.

The darkness replied to him with an echo: "...out... out... out..."

He couldn't see anything. He could not even see his own body, his own hands. This was worse than dying. He couldn't remember what happened before this.

Harry dropped on the ground. He longed for company. He had been in this stinking place for a very long and yet short time. This weirded him out. His feet was touching solid ground. But wherever he went, there was nothing. He was not encased in any room whatsoever. It was only infinite darkness. Had someone captured him and put him in this place? He didn't know.

Time did not exist in this place. Was it one hour, one minute, or one second ago that he had seen Hermione's face? She was screaming to someone, but definitely not to him. But he was looking at her. He shook his head. He was going crazy. How could he long for company if time did not exist.

He longed for light. Even a speck of light. Light...

Harry felt for his pockets. Feeling something hard, he took it out. His wand felt warm in his hand and it gave him hope. "Lumos!" It blinded Harry for a moment. It was hard to get use to the powerful light his wand was emanating. Still, everything around him was dark.

His wand only illuminated a meter of radius around him. The ground below his shoes were dry and hard. He kicked and dust rose up and moments later settled again on the ground. Where on earth was he? Is this even on earth?"

He started to walk. But like before, he never bumped onto anything. It was creeping him out. He needed to get out of here. But how?

o O o

Voldemort was back. The wizarding community did not take in this piece of news seriously. It was stupid and laughable. How could someone believed to have died twice, live again? But even though they did not believe it, fear started to plague their hearts again. The Daily Prophet was hesitant to print the news on their paper. They didn't want this rubbish to destroy the peace that was slowly coming back to them. But after a few threats from the Ministry, they did as they were told.

The Quibbler cooperated with them willingly. News like this was always a hit to readers. True or not. Every radio stations blared profanities towards the Ministry. They could not and would not believe them. Avid listeners listened to the jockeys and started suing magazines and newspapers printing the rubbish.

But Minister Shacklebolt could not blame the people. They had already implanted in their system that Voldemort was no more. A memory that was best left forgotten. And if remembered, he was dead. Harry Potter had saved him.

Aurors that passed their villages to inspect were thrown rotten vegetables. The poor men could not fight back but could only exchange swear words and angry looks. They were just following higher orders. They inspected every structure there was that they could see. Even pig pens and chicken farms. They themselves were doubtful of what their Minister believed. But if they disobey, they would have to find another job.

Even though the Ministry had alerted the public, they still left their children to play around outside their houses. Sometimes without anyone watching over them. Doors were left open.

"I told you something like this would happen," Minerva said to Kingsley.

The Minister had paid a visit to Hogwarts that afternoon. He was pacing back and forth the Headmistress' office. Minerva followed him with her tired eyes. "What should I do to make them believe?"

Minerva sighed. "I'm afraid they won't, Kingsley. You, of all people, should know that. They want proof."

"Proof? Then should we withdraw our forces and then wait for a break out in Azkaban and bloody dead bodies in the streets?"

The Headmistress did not reply.

"Do you believe Severus, Minerva?" Kingsley suddenly asked. He was even more tired than she was. Minerva had the school while he had the whole country to look after.

"Of course, I do, Kingsley! Do you?"

It was Kingsley's turn not to say anything.

"I have put all my mistrust on Severus once, Kingsley, and look where it had taken us? No, it will not happen again. If you question me again of my trust in him, I'm afraid I'll have to hex you."

This brought a smile to the Minister's face. "Very well, Minerva. I do trust him. But all this pressure is tempting me to think otherwise."

"I understand, Kingsley. But let's hold on for a while. We will be the one laughing our heads off if we catch Voldemort."

Kingsley stopped. "One problem. What do we do next after we catch him?"

Author's Note: I'm sorry if this chapter is very short. I have a consistent headache, but wanted to write the story since the start of another school semester is two days away. Please leave a review. Thanks.