Chapter 1: Hermione

Hermione Granger clutched the old tome she had found closely to her chest as she moved through the halls of Hogwarts back towards the entrance to the Room of Requirements. 5 weeks into the school break, several members of the so-called Dumbledore's Army had returned to school for a little over a week (with their respective parent's permission, of course, or in Harry's case, cowed acceptance from his uncle, who was really more than happy to have him out of the house.) With Dumbledore's tacit approval and most of the teachers also aware for the break, the few students pretty much had the run of the school. Dumbledore had convinced Madame Pomfrey to stay around in case of any 'incidents'. Dumbledore himself was also somewhere around, or so they thought, no one had seen him, except for perhaps a glimpse when the Weasley's battered old Ford dropped them off on the grounds 2 days ago.

For the past 48 hours, the 8 assembled students had worked on a combination of offensive and defensive magics, taking break time of course for activities such as Quidditch, and sneaking around to some of the supposedly off-limits areas. All of the students, regardless of house affiliation, were staying in Gryffindor hall.

Hermione being who she was, she had taken some of the down time to dig through Hogwart's library, unearthing a few treasures like the book she now held, a collection of potions recipes that might have defensive applications.

As she passed one of the numerous hallways that dotted the Hogwarts campus, she saw a flicker of movement at the other end. The grey cloth reminded her of the pants Harry had been wearing that morning, so she called out. "Harry?"

There was no response, so she turned down the hallway to catch up. Getting to the end of the corridor, she saw the same trace of cloth making another turn. "He moves way too fast" she muttered to herself, the book in her arms getting heavier as she hurried after him. Turning the corner, she saw the gray cloth standing still. "There you are-aaaaaaahh". Hermione's voice changed into a scream as she saw that the grey cloth belonged not to Harry's trousers, but instead the shrouds of a Dementor. Instinctively, she backpedaled and started to run.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALIS" Hermione's headlong flight was abruptly interrupted after only a few feet as she was hit from behind by the powerful curse. Immobilized, she crashed to the floor with a thud, the precious book spinning from limp hands and sliding across the stone floor. Unable to move, she could only wait as she heard footsteps approach her prone form. Her body was useless, but her nimble mind was working, trying to figure out why she had not noticed any of the trademark signs of dementors, such as coldness. A familiar voice broke her out of her reverie. "Well, well, Miss Granger. How nice to see you again! Bring her." Unseen hands grabbed her arms and started to drag her backwards, acting on the orders of the man who she had last seen on his way to Azkaban, "Barty Crouch, Jr."

Her heels bouncing against the stone floors, Hermione found herself dragged down a series of short corridors. With only the ceiling as a reference and having not paid much attention to her path, she was not sure where she was being taken. From behind her came the sound of a door opening and she was taken through an archway. She could see the door close firmly after she entered, pushed by a dementor, presumably they were also the ones dragging her.

Abruptly, she was released, falling hard on her side. She heard footsteps, and Crouch came around her, kneeling in front of her. "I had hoped it would be dear Mr. Potter I found first, but you will do, I suppose. You know, when they took me to Azkaban, they told the dementors to suck my soul out. The Dementor's kiss they call it. But this time, instead of sucking it out, the dementors put something in. There are forces out there you can't imagine, Miss Granger, forces that make dear old Voldy look pitiful in comparison."

"Do they teach you about dementors here, I wonder? Where they really come from, the dark dimension of shadows and energy? No, I suppose they don't, at least they never told me. But did you ever wonder why the dementors needed all that misery, that energy?" Crouch motioned and a dementor floated over to them. Reaching up, he parted the ragged shards of fabric covering the creatures body to reveal a glowing blue crystal.

"This is called a soul gem. Without it, they are still fully linked to their former realm, constantly being drained away and needing to be renewed with fresh sustenance. The warden's at Azkaban know this, they want the dementors weak and hungry. Now that have had enough, and soon, all of this world will be their plaything."

"Unfortunately, in order to open the portal into their world fully, we need a few things, and you are going to help me get them. Well, your body is."

He stood up, so that Hermione could only see his feet. "Now, now, this will never do. CORPUS FLEXUS." The young girl felt her muscles loosen, but she still had no control over them. Crouch moved around her and began to tug on her limbs until she was lying flat on her back, her arms over her head and her legs straight out.

She began to worry when Barty kneeled next to her again and started to pull down the zipper on her pink sweatshirt. Once it was open, he tugged the hem of the white t-shirt she had on underneath out from underneath the waistband of her jeans. Even immobilized, she could feel the chill of the stone floor on her back as he pulled both garments up and over her head, the fabric of her t-shirt pulling her hair as it past. The chill air raised goosebumps on her bare skin.

Crouch placed the wadded up sweatshirt under her head, lifting her head up slightly so that she could watch his actions. His hand slipped under her back and began to fumble with the clasp of the basic white bra she had worn this morning. Unable to undo the clip, Crouch cursed under his breath, and Hermione felt a brief moment of hope until he pointed his wand at her and said 'Alohomora'. Instantly the clasp sprang free, leaving the bra loose and easily removed. Tears trickled from the corner of the young girl's eyes as she felt Barty's fingers tug at her left nipple, already erect from the cold.