This chapter takes place during the Goblet of Fire chapter The Dark Mark.

xXxXxXxXx

I'd keep Granger locked up somewhere if I were you. Who know what'll happen if they get ahold of the little Mudblood.

Malfoy's warning was echoing repeatedly in Fred Weasley's mind as he moved with everyone away from the camp. In the mad scramble of everyone running from the Death Eaters, it was hard to focus on anything.

Fred continuously kept glancing over at Hermione who, though a little scared, was relatively unharmed. He knew he should be worried about the rest of his siblings as well, and he was, but Merlin, is anything happened to his bookworm just because she was Muggle-born…

The bookworm. Not his. The.

He shook his head to snap out of his thoughts and continued the walk in silence.

xXxXxXxXxXx

They were probably half an hour deep into the forest by the time Hermione alerted everyone that Harry and Ron weren't walking with them anymore. She was obviously trying to remain calm, but Fred could see in her face that she was worried.

They moved back the way they came, calling the boys names as softly as possible to not draw too much attention to themselves.

They found them a bit out of the way, scanning the ground vigilantly. They looked up when Fred approached them.

"Why aren't you lot with us?" he asked, angry.

"Lost my wand," Harry muttered.

"Blimey Harry, not having much luck tonight are you?" George commented. Harry shrugged, frustrated.

"Alright then, let's try and get further in. I don't want to be so close to the outside," said George, glancing around.

"Ginny, Hermione…Hermione?"

Everyone looked around, only just noticing that Hermione wasn't with them.

"Where could she have gone?" Ginny asked. "It's not like her to just wander off."

Then they heard a blood-curdling scream from the edge of the wood. Fred was the first one to snap to, the first to recognize the agonized voice.

"Hermione!" he bellowed, rushing towards the sound. Everyone followed at his heels, worried and scared for their friend, and themselves.

They reached a slight clearing of trees. If you squinted you could see the campsite through them, lit with fires.

Hermione had pressed herself up against one of the trees. The group reached her as a few cloaked figures ran, cackling amongst themselves.

The young woman had multiple cuts on her face, looking like they had been done by a small knife, or even someone's finger nail. Her nightgown had been ripped, leaving her bare skin exposed and raw from whatever cut at her.

Harry and Ron made to step towards her, but she turned away, screaming again. Fred stepped forward alone then, almost instinctively, pulling her into his arms. She thrashed in his grip, screaming wildly. George joined him, and they held the frightened girl between them.

After several minutes she stopped struggling and her screams turned to sobs. Harry, Ron, and Ginny watched on helplessly, not knowing what to do.

Close by, the sound of footsteps came closer. Everyone froze, and for a moment it was silent other than Hermione's sobs, muffled by Fred's jumper.

"MORSMORDRE!"

It sounded like a spell, but no one recognized it.

They had hardly time to think before a series of popping noises alerted them to the arrival of twenty or so wizards appearing suddenly and surrounding them.

"Duck!" Harry shouted, and George and Fred dropped to the ground with Hermione, shielding her, while Harry pulled the youngest Weasley's down with him.

Every wizard who had shown shouted the stunning spell, and they flew over their heads, barely missing the group.

The threat had Hermione screaming again, not knowing what was wrong, but knowing there was something dangerous.

Suddenly Mr. Weasley was bursting through the crowd.

"Stop!" he yelled. "STOP! Those are my children!" He rushed to them.

"Children, are you alright? What…what happened to Hermione?" He seemed to have only just noticed the sobbing girl. The twins were trying desperately to calm her, but she continued to sob, shaking violently in her arms.

"We don't know," Ron said softly, looking at his brothers.

"Out of the way Arthur." Mr. Crouch steps out from behind Mr. Weasley.

He questions them, accusing them of casting the spell, of putting the strange mark in the sky.

"It's You-Know-Who's mark," Ron whispered to Harry. The raven-haired boy understood the fuss, the fear. If the mark was in the sky, Voldemort's followers couldn't be far behind.

They searched the trees, finding not a wizard, but the house-elf from the Top Box. Mr. Crouch's elf, unconscious and clutching Harry's wand.

Mr. Crouch sacks the creature, and he and the remaining wizards leave, finally convinced that whoever cast the curse is no longer there.

The moment they were out of sight Mr. Weasley rushed to where the twins held Hermione. He took out his wand to try and heal the cuts on her face, the moment her wide eyes caught sight of the wand she started thrashing again, terrified.

Mr. Weasley hastily replaced his wand, guilt and horror washing over his face.

"Can you carry her?" he asked the boys. They nodded, and together they lifted the trembling girl so she could rest in Fred's arms. George stayed close, because if she jerked at all she'd go toppling to the ground. Someone needed to catch her.

Hermione's arms were wrapped possessively around Fred's neck. She had run out of tears, but dry sobs still racked through her small body. Her once innocent brown eyes were bloodshot and nervous, needing to see every little thing.

People moved to talk to Mr. Weasley as he passed, but the sight of the frantic girl, obviously traumatized, kept most of the bystanders back.

The moment the reached the tents Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged, battered but not too badly. They all went to speak at once, to question their father on the outcome of his absence, when they noticed Hermione.

Bill moved quickly to take the injured girl from Fred's arms. Instead of screaming, she reached for the twins, muttering incoherently under her breath. Bill didn't give her back though; instead he hurried her to the nearest bed in the big tent. The moment he stepped away from her she reached for Fred again, and he came.

Harry filled a small bowl with water and grabbed a little towel. He handed them to Fred.

"Dab at her wounds with that. It's not a spell, but it's better than letting them get infected."

Fred nodded. George held Hermione to his chest while slowly washed the blood from her face and hair. He got his robe from his bed and wrapped it around her. Slowly, the girl began to drift to sleep.

Mr. Weasley had Harry, Ron, and Ginny in a separate area of the tent.

"Tell me what you can," he urged them.

"Ron and Harry had left the group to locate Harry's wand. We went back to find them. In the search, Hermione disappeared. They must have just grabbed her…" Ginny trailed off, bursting into tears. Harry, who sat on her right, put an arm around her shoulders without thinking, and picked up the story.

"We heard her scream, and reached her just as a few people ran, all wearing cloaks like the, the Death Eaters. She had cuts everywhere, and her clothes were ripped. They must have…touched her."

Harry couldn't finish. The thought of someone doing that to Hermione, his sister in so many ways, made his blood boil. All because she was Muggle-Born.

No one got any sleep tonight, least of all Hermione. The screams from her nightmares kept them all awake.

I've always wanted to write angst. And you all know how much I love Fremione. So here, I get both! This probably won't get as long as He Noticed Her, but it's pretty much the same idea – a Fremione rewrite of Goblet of Fire. Let me know what you guys think!