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Okay so the bold parts of the story are the things Hermione's saying in the video she's recording for her family in case she doesn't make it. Sorry, I didn't include any bold in the last chapter, but that's how it'll be for the rest of the story. Enjoy!

My vision was blurred as I began to wake up. I had expected to wake up in a forest, or a death eater camp or something like that. I looked straight above me. I didn't see trees or any death eaters. I saw a wooden wall about 6 inches from my face. My name is Hermione Weasley. I'm 29 years old. My husband's name is Ronald Weasley. Panic flooded through me as I shot up, but immediately hit my head hard on the wooden ceiling.

I looked around me insisting this was a dream. There were wooden walls surrounding me, entirely too close for my liking. I was suddenly overwhelmed with extreme claustrophobia as I looked around me. We live on 423 Angelwood Drive just outside of London. My eyes widened with fear and my heart flooded with intense fear as I realized where I was.

I was underground. Buried alive.

Please just make sure this gets to him. I'd really appreciate it. I began to pound on the top of the coffin I was trapped in. With all the strength I could muster, I began to scream. I didn't scream for help. I just screamed.

I don't know how long I screamed. Or how many times I pounded on the top of that coffin. When my voice finally ran out, I looked at my hands. They looked as if I had beaten them over and over again against a knife. I'm not sure why they did this to me, but I'm 90% sure I didn't deserve it. My wand. I didn't have my wand.

My voice choking with tears of panic, I looked around for it. "Shit shit shit shit shit!" It wasn't there. I tried to do something I've never been able to do. Do magic without my wand.

I took several deep breaths before muttering the incantation "Lumos." A spark of light illuminated the small coffin. I couldn't believe I did it!

My joy was cut short by a vibrating sound behind me. I looked slowly behind me to see a small cell phone vibrating. Someone was calling me. I picked it up, skeptical of how I was getting a call 10 feet underground.

I pressed the green button that said "talk" and put it up to my ear.

"H-Hello." My voice cracked from overuse.

"Hermione! Hermione, we've found Harry, but we can't find you! There was this wrecked car and it had a note on it with this number! Where are you?" It was my dad, Arthur Weasley. Well he wasn't technically my dad, but I haven't seen my dad since I was 4.

"I'm- I'm lying in a coff-coffin about te-ten feet underground. Dad, I only have about an hour of air left before I suffocate. Please- you have to help me! I'm so scared!" Tears were coming out of my eyes slowly. I've been buried alive about 10 feet underground. I now have about 45 minutes of air left. I'm going to die here, because nobody believes me when I tell them where I am. Not even Arthur believes me.

"Hermione, I need you to tell me the honest truth, or we can't help you!" I shook my head in disbelief. He didn't believe me.

"No, please you have to believe me! I'm SUFFOCATING dad! I can't breathe and I need help, PLEASE!" The tears were coming out freely now. I was shocked that someone from my family didn't believe me. If he didn't believe me…I was going to die.

"How are you able to talk to me from 10 feet underground? It's impossible! Hermione, TELL ME THE TRUTH, AND WE WILL HELP YOU!" I shook my head, my sobs coming out in wild rasps.

"Ple-e-ease." My heart stopped as I heard him hang up the phone. "No. No! NO! DAD PLEASE!" It's really sickening that good, innocent people get killed like this. Suffocating underground while her own father doesn't believe her. I never saw myself dying this way. I figured maybe I'd take a curse, or I'd die of old age next to Ron, but we can't always get what we want, can we?

My body wracking with heart wrenching sobs, I lay down on my stomach and looked at my watch. Considering the amount of air I was getting, I had about 50 minutes of air left. 50 minutes to live. 50 minutes to convince my only hope of living to help me. To save my life.

I lie down, my upper back resting against the back of the coffin and picked up the phone. I needed to call someone who would believe me. I needed to call Ron.

It rang about 6 times and my heart began to drop. "Please, please, please pick up." My heart exploded with an overwhelming happiness as I heard his sweet voice answer.

"Hello?"

"RON! RON YOU HAVE TO HELP ME! I'VE BEEN BURIED ALIVE AND I'M SUFFOCATING! PLEASE HELP ME!"

"Ha! I tricked you! I'm not here right now, leave a message at the tone!" My heart stopped. I put a hand to my chest and sunk down in the coffin lying flat on my back. I took a few deep breaths and started to sob, unknowingly recording a message for Ron. I need to tell each and every one of you how much I love you. How much I treasure you all. Because if I'm going to die, each and every one of you need to know how much I love you.

I looked at the phone and noticed that I was recording a message for Ron. I put it up to my ear and barely muttered a quiet, "Please help me. I'm dying. Ask dad what happened to me. He knows, but he wont help me. Please."

I buried my head in my hands and cried. Cried for myself, cried for Harry, cried for Ron, who was sitting all alone at home without a care in the world. Completely unaware of the danger I was in. Completely unaware that I was lying in a coffin in Bulgaria, suffocating to death. Nobody was going to help me.