It was cold. Dark. The streets were empty. Hermione Granger hurried her step. She may be a witch but she was still a woman and being out late, alone, was still dangerous. Especially as she didn't have her wand with her. Hermione pulled her coat tightly around her. She glanced left. She glanced right. No one. But someone was following her. She just knew it. She slipped her hands inside a pair of leather gloves and rubbed them together, breathing warm air onto them to add to the warmth that was now spreading through her veins.
She took a left turning down a damp alleyway. She scuffed her feet along the litter covered street. Suddenly, she spun around. Someone was lurking in the entrance to the alleyway. Someone had been following her. She had been right. But when had Hermione ever been wrong?
She took a step further into the alleyway. The follower mirrored her action. Hermione inwardly moaned. Why was her wand not with her? Where was it?
Hermione carried on walking. She heard the clip-clop of footsteps behind her. She turned left, then right, then left again. The follower was still behind her. Hermione made a u-turn, crossing the road and heading back to where she had started.
Hermione had been walking for what felt like hours but had, really, only been a matter of seconds. Hermione should have been angry. She should have turned around and wrestled the man following her. But something restrained her. Something told her that would not be wise. But when had Hermione ever listened to what people told her? She took a long stride but misplaced her footing. She stumbled and fell to the floor. She went to stand but found she couldn't move. The person was gaining on her. She needed to get up. Now! But she was frozen to her spot on the ground, her foot wedged in a drain and her hands clutching the gravel. She listened to the advancing footsteps of the man following her
Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light and the footsteps behind her stopped. Hermione found she could move again. She jumped to her feet and looked around for her saviour. No one was there. She made her way to where her follower was laid. Dead. Hermione lifted up the hood and gasped. It had not been a man. It had been a woman. Hermione checked the pulse. Dead. Definitely dead. That was when she saw who it was. Hermione wanted to scream but found she could not. She went to run, to leave the dead body. But she could not. She was frozen again...
Hermione jolted up in bed, sweating. She was hot and felt ill. Something rose up in the back of her throat. She leaned over the side of her bed and heaved up the contests of the meal Ginny had cooked up for her last night. Suddenly Ginny ran into the room with a hot towel. She made Hermione lean back and placed it over her forehead
"Was it the dream again?" Ginny asked.
"Uh-huh" Hermione muttered "Bellatrix Lestrange stalked me again"