Chapter 1: The Beginning
Hermione Granger's eyelids snapped open. Her heart was somewhere in her throat as her eyes struggled against the thick blanket of the night to see anything that would help her gain knowledge of her surroundings. She shivered slightly.
Where was her wand?
"Lumos," she whispered and a tiny beam of light ignited within arms reach. She made to grab it, but it went out suddenly. Then she heard it, a rustling that sounded a lot like leaves, and footfalls growing steadily louder. She inched in the opposite direction. She did not know what was coming toward her, but her instinct told her to get away from it as quickly as possible.
Where was she?
Without warning Hermione cried out, no longer blinded by darkness, but by a burst of bright white light. Then gentle hands grabbed her arms and it was dark again.
She rolled over on soft grass and opened her eyes. She seemed to be in an ordinary wooden house. It reminded her strangely of Hagrid's cabin, but with a grassy floor? A shadow loomed over her and she curled up instinctively, remembering the horrible events of the previous night. Although her recollection was fragmented, she remembered enough to be afraid. A warm, kind voice broke the silence.
"Hermione, it's okay. We're out of Albania." Painful memories flooded back to her. Of the journey to find out more about Voldemort and more about horcruxes and all the dark magic that was intertwined with such an expedition. Of how she had begged Ron to come and how he had bluntly refused.
Ron…that name brought back more pain still, but the voice brought her back to the present.
"Are you alright?" soft hands brushed her hair from her face. Her eyes fluttered open and the concerned face of her companion broke into a smile. "I'm glad you've come around, I just brewed some tea with those special leaves we found by that lake…" his voice trailed off as Hermione tried to sit up but her arms were too weak. Lupin, crouched and reached out, gently taking hold of Hermione's torso, and propping her up against a bench. She winced and Lupin gingerly touched two of her ribs again. She withdrew slightly and Lupin gave her an knowing smile, "not to worry Hermione, easily mended." He pulled his wand out of his robes and murmured an incantation in a husky whisper. A liquid sensation filled Hermione's rib age and she gasped, remembering, horribly, when in an attempt to mend Harry's broken arm Professor Lockhart had removed all the bones instead, she stopped, mid-thought. Thinking about Harry was painful as well…
"There you go," The watery sensation had subsided.
"How about that tea then, Professor?" Hermione asked weakly.
"That's the spirit," he replied, clearly relieved that she was coherent. He got up, walked across the shabby little room, taking a stone kettle off of a flaming red boulder.
"Inspired use of a heating charm Professor," she said quietly, more to herself than to Lupin.
"But my dear it was you who though of it, and it was awfully clever. But don't you remember?" his face clouded with worry. Hermione looked strained as she tried to think, racking her brain for the slightest recollection of the moment in which she had decided to perform a heating charm on a boulder so that it might serve as a stove. When nothing came to her, she stared at Lupin, hoping he would take her blank stare as a 'no' because her head hurt too much to shake it.