Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is not mine.

I am never alone. I know that he's waiting, always waiting.

I'm afraid of the darkness but this time I welcome its arms. Right now it serves as a comfort to my hardened heart. Right now I know that it shields me from him. The trees tower over every living thing, casting dancing shadows as the pale moonlight penetrate through leaves and branches. I hold my breath. I feel my blood pounding in my ears, and my eyes, already used to the darkened forest, survey my surroundings.

Nothing. Nothing is moving. As if the earth itself stopped from revolving, as if time stopped to let me rest for a while, or is this just me getting complacent. No! I must not rest.

He's at my heels, have been in the past four months since I escaped the rounding up of Order members. Harry and Ron I know to be dead, gone from this world. I know nothing of the other members of the Light. I have no idea of what's happening outside of this endless forest. What I'm certain of was I have to run.

I hear the telltale pop of Apparition a couple of feet behind me. I straighten my body as rigid as the tree I'm leaning into. I regulate my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. I breathe softly, so as not to be heard and get caught, while trying to muster enough strength to run.

He's near. My mind tells me. The skin at my nape begins to prickle as I hear cautious steps on the forest floor nearing me. God! Please! I chant. I can't be caught like this. I can't die like this. Not in his hands. Not in anyone's hands. And so with a deep intake of the frigid air I run. I run for my life, for my unrealized dreams, for the thousands of deaths that this stupid war has brought down. I dare not look back.

Forward. That is my goal. I will run. I will fight until my arms and limbs can't take it anymore. I won't die. Not now.

But he's behind me. Again. Has he seen me? How far is he from me? Is he alone? What should I do? Run. Run. Run.

Branches and leaves numb my being as I move into the heart of the forest. I know cuts and bruises decorate my body but that is the least of my concern. I'm sure he's behind me. I can hear his huffs and the way his boots slam on the twigs and leaves of the forest. I can imagine the way his dark cloak billow in the night air, the way his platinum-bIond hair sway in rhythm with his motion, the way his silver eyes flash in the darkness, the way his lips sneer in that maniacal way that he could only give.

He never uttered a word since he started this game of cat and mouse. Never said my name, never taunted my blood.

He's crazy, I say to myself. It's his way of paying me back for everything I said and did to him when we're still in Hogwarts. He's out to get me.

And I'm sure he will show me how filthy my blood is once he lays his hands on me. That's the reason for his silence. He's bottling it all up until he is about to explode. And when that day comes, I know that I'll receive every bit of punishment that he could think of.

But I will not allow him to hurt me.

I continue my way, focusing only on what my instincts is telling me to do. It gets harder to move forward for the underbrush I'm parting is thick and thorny. I use all of my strength to push my legs to their limit. Hope lit up in my heart when I hear the roaring of engines. I must be near a highway or something.

At the back of my mind, my rational self tells me that the Muggle world couldn't save me from him, that everything will be futile because he has a wand and my own is missing. But I can't help the bubbling warmth that started in my heart, crippling all the way to my arms, to my legs up to my toes. It gives me strength. And I huff and puff and breathe and run towards the sound and the light.

My chest is about to burst from all the exertion but there it is - a Muggle town somewhere in North America. I stop and dare to look behind me. That is my mistake, for when I turn my head I saw a flash of white and silver. I finally hear his voice, uttering a quick spell. A flash of red permeated the darkness and the last thing I remember before I give in to darkness is his smile – manic, evil, obsessed.

A/N: So, what do you think? I know that this sort of thing has been written a thousand times already but I really want to write one that I could call my own. So this baby was born. Tell my your thoughts about it. Should I write a continuation or would you rather not know what's going to happen to our dear Hermione? Additional ideas and criticisms are very welcome. Also, this is unbetaed, so if you're interested just PM me and I will get to you back asap.

Thank you for reading and happy holidays, everyone!