One in front. One behind. Two on the right. Spells flying everywhere. Wall coming up. Hopefully the boxes are there. The thoughts flew through Sylvia's mind as she pounded through the alleyways of Triventus. Her heart raced and adrenaline course through her veins. A brick wall rose up in front of her. It was 15 feet high, at least, as she had no way of levitating herself over magically. She looked around wildly for the much-needed boxes. None. Cursing mentally and pushing a load of memories into the back of her mind, she spun to the left. Right, Left, Right, Straight, Right. She raced through the intersections and arrived on the other side of the wall. Her legs were starting to fell like jelly, but she continued on and on. She could hear the Aurors getting closer. She tried to push harder, her lungs sending shocks of pain through her chest with each breath. Her whole body covered with sweat. Her hair strewn out behind her in tangles and matted with dirt. And then a man jumped out in front of her. She skidded to a stop and turned around. Five more panting adults had come up. She backed up, eyes wide, breathing hard. Trapped! Six wands were pointed at her. A brown-haired man reached for her. A chance! She darted off. Footstep echoes mingled with those of curses. She nearly thought she'd make it to the street, a magic-safety zone, when two hands grabbed her ankles. She fell with a muffled cry, her arms stretched out to catch herself. She tossed and kicked to no avail. She gave soft grunts and growls of frustration. Finally, completely exhausted, she lay still, glaring daggers at the six faces above her.

"Feisty little thing, aren't you?" An Indian-looking man said. Sylvia's eyes flashed to his face and then returned to watching everyone.

"If it isn't a little orphan." A blonde man with blue eyes snickered.

Okay, definitely not Aurors. Sylvia thought. Just Ministry bounty hunters.

A woman waved her wand over Sylvia, calling out an identification spell. Sylvia gritted her teeth and tried to muster up a shield. She could feel the warm energy of the magic insider of herself and felt it expand into an orb protecting her. Too late.

"Sylvia Estelle Lioness. Ha! And we'd nearly given you up for dead." The cold voice seemed to shriek at her with hideous laughter.

Sylvia remembered the obituary in the Sorcerer. I'd been on April 24th, 2010; on a Friday. It'd just said that she was believed to be dead as no trace had been found of her. The Ministry was still looking for the proof. Only then had she felt safe to go out in public. And since that time, a little over 5 years ago, life hadn't been so bad. Now, of course, it'd all come crashing down and she pushed the memory of that April 24th along with all the others into the back of her mind. She instead turned to cursing her invalid of a shield and slowness at putting it up. And now, with 6 hunters guarding her, she'd have no way to escape. Damn it!