"But did you hear what Fred said?" asked Harry excitedly, now the broadcast was over, his thoughts turned again toward his all-consuming obsession. "He's abroad! He's still looking for the Wand, I knew it!"
"Harry –"
"Come on, Hermione, why are you so determined not to admit it? Vol –"
"HARRY, NO!"
"—demort's after the Elder Wand!"
"The name's Taboo!" Ron bellowed, leaping to his feet as a loud crack sounded outside the tent. "I told you, Harry, I told you, we can't say it anymore – we've got to put the protection back around us – quickly – it's how they find –"
The Sneakoscope on the table lit up and began to spin. The three stood at once as a loud crack sounded from outside the tent and the world suddenly erupted into lights as Harry and Ron began blasting spells in every direction through the tent walls, aiming to distract the Snatchers they knew were waiting for them. In the confusion, the trio ducked through the entrance of the collapsing tent, Hermione shoving the sword of Gryffindor into her small beaded bag as they went.
As she emerged there was no time to see the chaos the boys had caused before Hermione's legs began to pump beneath her, carrying her towards the thicket of woods in the distance. She saw a flash of Harry's jumper disappearing into the woods parallel to her position. Ron's flaming hair was not far behind. She heard yelling behind her as she leapt over a fallen log. Then, the crunch of dead leaves underfoot, gathering speed much quicker than she knew her feet could carry her. She managed a look back and wished at once she hadn't – Fenrir Greyback's furious face was closer, so much closer than she had the strength to outrun. He would be upon her soon.
She looked frantically to her left, catching sight of Harry through the trees. She yelled something unintelligible, anything to get him to glance back before she was overtaken. Mercifully, he looked. He saw Greyback behind her, saw his speed and knew, as well as she, that she would not make it to safety. With a last burst of effort, Hermione launched the beaded handbag with all of its secrets and books and enchanted swords high into the air. It spun in a beautiful arc, spiraling through the air until Harry, the youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in more than a century, caught it deftly between his fingers and disappeared through the trees.
Hermione felt the impact around her knees as Greyback tackled her, felt the dirt and dead leaves fill her mouth as she opened it to scream. Then there was pain as his long fingernails pierced the skin on the back of her neck and she was wrenched to her feet.
"Think you're smart, do you?" Greyback growled into her ear. "We'll show you how bloody smart you really are."
He jammed her roughly down to her knees again as the rest of the Snatchers burst through the forest, all of them breathing heavily with fury in their eyes. A sick sensation was spreading slowly through Hermione's insides. She was a fugitive, she was caught, and she knew there was only one way that this would end.
"The others?" Greyback asked.
A mousy looking Snatcher with dirt staining his face and a burn mark near his temple shook his head.
"Was it Potter?"
After a moment of fearful hesitation, the mousy man nodded.
With a roar, Greyback kicked Hermione in her stomach, doubling her over and sending her coughing into the forest floor.
"You're telling me that we let Harry fuckin' Potter escape? We had him! We had him!"
He let loose another kick that caught Hermione under her chin, sending her reeling sideways. Her vision blackened and she was sure she felt some of her teeth shatter as the taste of blood blanketed her tongue. Her ears began to ring as someone hoisted her up roughly by her arm. A calloused hand cupped her chin, forcing Hermione face-to-face with her assailant.
"Well," Greyback growled, his breath hot against her cheeks. "I suppose we'll just have to do with you."
He grinned wide, baring mossy, pointed teeth before his tongue shot out and trailed a messy line across the plane of her face. Hermione felt herself groan involuntarily, her breath shooting out in thick bursts. She was alone and defenseless in a forest with a pack of men who did not care for such things as morality. The sudden thought burned brightly in her mind, making her stomach clench while she slowly assessed any chance at fighting them off. She did not have to be the brightest witch of her age to know there was no hope. Greyback's nostrils flared wide as he took in her scent, a look of cruel satisfaction spreading like a beam of light across his face.
"The things I could do to you," He breathed, tightening his grip on her face. "If only you weren't worth your weight in Galleons."
He turned to the rest of the group.
"I think it's about time we pay the precious Malfoys a visit."
The other Snatchers let out crows of laughter. Tightening his grip on Hermione's arm, Greyback used the hand that had been wrapped around her chin to direct the rest of the group.
"You two stay here. Search whatever's left of the tent. Scabior, you and you there - is it McCready? - anyway, you two go grab the other two prisoners and meet us there. The rest of you come with me."
With a sudden unpleasant twist, Hermione found herself being Disapparated alongside Greyback. She could hear the other Snatchers howling with delight at her capture, the sound echoing through her ears as the world became a shapeless blur around her.
They don't have the sword, she thought, frantically. They do not have Harry or Ron and they do not have the sword.
Somehow, the thought did not comfort her.
They reappeared at the end of a long gravel driveway. Before them stood an immense pair of wrought-iron gates. A massive manor loomed behind the gates, casting a long-reaching shadow over the entire area. There were several sharp pops around Hermione and Greyback as the rest of the Snatchers caught up to their leader. Hermione was surprised when Scabior and McCready appeared with Dean Thomas and a goblin - Griphook if she was not mistaken - in tow. Dean locked eyes with her, but said nothing. She remembered eavesdropping on Dean and his companions on that awful day what seemed like a lifetime ago and wondered what could have happened to their three other traveling companions. She could imagine, of course. Or maybe she couldn't. The Snatchers and Death Eaters were not known for their kindness.
"What now?" Scabior asked once the team had assembled. "How do we get in?"
Greyback walked forward to the gates, yanking a struggling Hermione behind him. He reached forward, wrapping a hairy hand around one of the bars and giving it a firm shake. Immediately, the iron buckled and swiftly reshaped itself into a horrifying face.
"State your purpose!" It screeched, the sound ringing through the air.
"We've got a companion of Harry Potter's!" Greyback shouted. In response, the gates swung open.
"Let's go!" He called to the men behind him. At once, they moved forward, their fugitive charges dragged roughly along. Hermione stumbled on the gravel beneath her, falling onto her stomach and scraping her hand. As she was heaved back up, a frightened albino peacock waddled across their path. Hermione felt a frantic, incredulous laugh building up in her throat. She quickly swallowed it. She did not want to face the consequences of such a mindless action.
The group reached a high wooden door. Before any of the Snatchers could knock, the door swung open, revealing Narcissa Malfoy standing on the threshold. She looked down at the filthy men with disdain evident on her face.
"Yes?" She asked coldly.
"We found - we found Harry Potter, ma'am," Greyback answered.
"Oh?" Narcissa replied lightly, her eyes sweeping over the lot of them. "Then, pray tell, where is the lad?"
Greyback's face fell. His teeth bared slightly when he next spoke.
"He got away."
"Ah," Narcissa crossed her arms over her chest. "Then why are you here on my doorstep?"
"We've got the girl that travels with him!" Scabior piped up from behind Greyback. "The Mudblood girl!"
Greyback spun around and growled fiercely at Scabior, causing the smaller man to shrink back slightly. However, despite his displeasure, Greyback thrust Hermione to the front of the group.
"Aye, the girl," He snarled. "She will know their plan, miss. She will be able to tell you what they've been up to."
Narcissa quickly uncrossed her arms and took a step forward.
"Is it really?" She breathed. "This could be good news, indeed…"
"Cissy?" Came a low voice from behind Narcissa. Hermione felt her lungs freeze. Bellatrix Lestrange slowly emerged from the darkness of the house and came to stand next to her sister. "What's going on?"
"These…Snatchers? Is that what you call yourselves? This group has brought us Harry Potter's Mudblood friend."
Bellatrix laughed shrilly.
"It would appear that every dog really does get its day," She cackled.
Greyback bristled, his fingernails digging sharp enough into Hermione's arm to draw blood.
"Bring them in," Bellatrix continued. "Take the Mudblood into the sitting room. Put the others in the cellar with the rest."
Greyback released his hold on Hermione's arm, instead taking her by the scruff of her neck and dragging her off towards a grand room at the end of a narrow hallway. She could hear Dean and Griphook being moved somewhere behind her, though she could not spare a glance in their direction with Greyback's hand forcing her head forward. At last, he came to the room at the end of the hall. Several high-backed chairs ringed the dim room. The only sources of light came from a large fireplace against the west wall and an ornate chandelier twinkling overhead. Hermione only saw these for a moment before Greyback threw her violently to the ground.
"You'll have wished I'd kept you by the time she's through with you, Mudblood" Greyback hissed. "And such a pity, too. Blood all tastes the same, you know. Purebloods, Mudbloods, Half-Bloods - it makes no difference."
With that he left, his tattered, mud-stained robes billowing behind him. Left alone, Hermione wildly thought of a way to escape. She could feel charms over the building preventing her from Disapparating. She wondered how far she could run if she could only squeeze out of one of the windows or somehow find a door that had failed to be latched properly. She would only have to make it far enough past the barrier to Disapparate and then she could make it - where? It would be nearly impossible to meet up with Harry and Ron. The Burrow would be too dangerous. Her house was surely empty with her parents off in Australia, but she did not want there to be any clues linking her to them. She swiftly made a decision to make the choice once she had found a way out of Malfoy Manor, but a soft noise from behind her broke her train of thought. She turned quickly, scooting backwards on her knees as she went.
Draco Malfoy stood before the fireplace, his profile silhouetted against the crackling flames behind him. He seemed somehow smaller than Hermione remembered him. It was as though something had deflated him.
"Granger," He said. Hermione did not respond. He took a step towards her. Hermione did not move.
"Hermione Granger," He repeated. She heard something in his tone she was not prepared for. Was it pity? fear? or something else entirely? She caught a better glimpse of his face as he took another step forward. The pale skin and pointed featured were familiar, of course, yet there was an emotion swimming behind his gray eyes that she had never seen there before: remorse.
"Draco," She responded. He took a deep, shuddering breath. His hand shot out as though he wanted to help her up, but he retracted it just as quickly. His posture quickly became rigid, his eyes falling down to the hardwood floor.
"Draco!" Bellatrix exclaimed from behind Hermione. "Darling boy, I did not know you were in here. Would you like to help your Aunt Bella? Hmmm?"
Draco glanced up at his aunt. Hermione saw panic register briefly across his features before they molded back into an expressionless mask.
"No, thank you, Aunt Bella," He responded softly.
"Ah, what a shame. Would you like to watch how we interrogate Mudbloods? If you're a good boy I may even let you do the next one on your own."
"No, thank you, Aunt Bella," Malfoy said again, this time a bit stronger. "If you'll excuse me, Aunt, I believe my father needed my assistance in the drawing room."
He strode out briskly, keeping his gaze pointed straight ahead so he could not see Hermione's face as he left. The door closed behind him, the noise echoing through the quiet air.
"Now, little Mudblood," Bellatrix purred, crossing the room to stand in front of Hermione. She produced a small silver knife from her pocket and twirled it innocently between her fingers. The light from the fireplace glinted sharply across the blade.
"Now, it's time for us to have some fun."
A/N: I feel obligated to mention that the first few lines of the story was lifted directly from the Deathly Hallows. Hope you enjoyed.
