Spells were flying all around Hermione as she tried frantically to find Harry and Ron – jets of green, red, blue, and even a purple disembowelment curse missed her running form by a hair. Gasping, she opened the nearest door she could find and ran in, throwing an Impedimenta! behind her as she scrambled to shut the door before any Death Eaters could enter.
As Hermione slammed the door, the world seemed to tilt and go wonky, swimming in front of her eyes. Suddenly, everything was dark. The sounds of the battle faded away, and Hermione pondered abstractly if it was possible for the pounding of her heart to deafen her so… until she realized that it was not her imagination but in reality, the world around her was silent.
Still frantic with the thoughts of battle on her mind, and struggling to keep her stomach from jumping out of her throat, Hermione pushed back a chunk of her thick brown hair that had escaped her ponytail and looked around at the passageway she had entered. Huh, she wondered, I could have sworn when I entered that this was a broom closet.
Before she had a chance to wonder further, the passage lit up. Bright, crimson flames flickered and then burst out of the mouths of the ancient, lion's-head-shaped torches, illuminating the dusty cobbled path ahead. A strange feeling came over Hermione, and though she had felt curiosity many a time in her life, she had never felt such a strong desire to act on it before.
The young scholar-turned-warrior was drawn to the darkness at the end of the tunnel, almost compelled to approach it. So, steeling herself, approach she did, though with the extreme caution that befits a person who has spent the last few months on the run.
Crouching at first with her wand raised and head turning to look behind her every few steps, Hermione began to walk. With every step, her panic lessened, until her heart had slowed to a normal pace. Soon, she was standing tall, walking calmly as though she was merely walking to the Great Hall for dinner.
Though naturally she may have still had doubts about the passage and fear as to what lay ahead, a distinctly unnatural, though certainly not evil, presence had entered Hermione's mind – this presence cleared any thoughts of Harry, Ron, the battle, and any panic as to her current location out of her mind, as easily as sweeping dust away with a broom. All that was left was Hermione's knowledge of who she was, her memories of Hogwarts pre-war, and one thought – I am Hermione Gryffindor of Alba and I must see the king of Camelot at once.