A/N: Just a short little ficlet here, nothing too serious. Please read and review, and if you catch any grammar or spelling errors, let me know!
Disclaimer: All rights belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling.
Blurred lights, red and green, whizzed by their target that, she thought distractedly, just happened to be her.
Muted shouts hardly registered in her frantic mind. How did they do it? This place was a secret; Harry was its keeper! So how, she wanted to know, the hell did they find it!
Her breath came in short, labored gasps; her lungs screamed for air yet received none, and her vision grew foggy, desperate exhaustion taking over. One minute she was running, the next on her knees, gasping for breath. Silently, she wished for a miracle.
And, as it often happened with the Golden Trio, a miracle promptly arrived.
"Hermione!" She felt a pair of sweaty hands grasp her forearm and haul her up form where she was kneeling, "Get behind me, NOW!"
She spun around clumsily till she was facing the back of Ronald Weasley's russet head, hurriedly thanking any Gods who would listen for her good fortune.
He was fighting wildly, his spells flying in every direction, only missing their intended Death Eaters by inches, if at all. His eyes held a fierce determination, one that unsettled Hermione and, suddenly, she was desperate to be useful.
"Ron…" no response, "RON! Where is she?"
He paused for a moment, scanning the battlefield, instantly afraid. "I can't see her. Oh God, Mione, I can't see her!"
She nodded once and was off, leaving him to defeat the few black figures that were still standing.
She rushed towards the edge of the forest, completely focused on her new task. Too focused, in fact, to notice Neville Longbottom fall to the ground, hit by a stunning spell, and three hooded figures follow silently behind her. Thirty yards into the trees she stopped, a figure in the moonlight catching her eye. She turned and sighed in grateful relief.
Under the silver sheen of stars Luna looked more like a ghostly angel than a human. She was resting against a tree, her legs spread out before her, bent slightly at the knee. Her hands, covered with a mixture of damp grass and mud, were clutching her very swollen belly.
"Luna!" The girl turned toward the sound of Hermione's voice, and instantly her face was clouded with panic. "Luna, are you-"
But her words were cut off by a flash of red, and the last thing she felt as her face rushed to meet the ground was a hand clasp around her arm, and that all too familiar pulling at her navel.
And then she was gone,
And Hermione was captured.