BOO! Yup, I was hiding there for a little... I'm ashamed, really. Sorry about that. Hopefully this'll all release you from the tention of Hermione being kidnapped...

...

... but in all honesty I highly doubt it :P

PS: I never really wrote any disclaimers... you all figured out I'm not JK Rowling by now right? No? Oh I'm flattered! ;P

But yeah, no, not me, not mine.

Enjoy!

Hermione woke to the feeling of being dragged along a stone floor. Opening her eyes, she realised someone was holding her under her arms and dragging her feet behind them carelessly. Her wrists were tied together as were her ankles. The ropes were tight and painful.

Suddenly, Hermione's captor stopped to open a metal door, and threw her in mercilessly. She landed on the cold stone tiles painfully, all air leaving her lungs as she fell with a thud. She struggled to catch her breath again, during which the man behind her shut the door loudly. Turning to collapse on her back, Hermione took in her surroundings. She was in a cell with sturdy metal bars, with nothing more than a small window too far for her to reach and an evacuation grid in the floor. Hermione backed away from the hole as she realised the stone around it had been stained with red. The cell itself was adjacent to another identical one, and they both stood in what seemed like a circular dungeon. It was cold, and she shivered slightly, unable to warm herself up as she was still bound by the ropes. There was no one else in the room.

Not being able to hold it in anymore, Hermione let out a choked sob, tears starting to run down her face. No one would find her here.

.

Ron pulled Luna back into her seat as she tilted forward with the momentum of the truck. Robbie had granted them one last wish. He was driving them to London. He hadn't planned on driving there until three days later, but he just hadn't been able to watch the two young people walk off onto the road in the early hours of the morning.

The middle-aged man pulled over in a deserted street in West London, looking over to the ginger boy as the truck came to a halt. His guests had not given him their names, to keep him and his wife safe, the boy had told him. He had also insisted that Robbie drop them off somewhere far from the centre of the city. When he'd asked why, the boy had simply said with a dark expression that they were in danger, and that he didn't want him to get involved.

Robbie of course understood that the young man had only wished to protect him from whatever or whoever had hurt the blond girl in the first place. The ginger boy shook the girl awake, and they got out of the small vehicle. The boy then went round and stood at his door, waiting for him to bring the window down. When he did, the boy handed him a large, golden coin of some sorts.

"I don't have much to give you as a thank you for your help..." the boy started, lifting a hand to stop him as he opened his mouth to refuse the gift. "It's worthless in your world, but in ours, it is worth quite a bit. I'll never be able to repay you enough for what you did for us, but I will give you these words."

The boy's voice had suddenly gone very low and serious, and Robbie couldn't help the shiver that went up his spine as he felt the danger in his tone.

"Stay out of London. Whatever you think of this world currently, it is wrong. There is a war going on that you have no idea of, and you will be more in danger in London than anywhere else. When this is all over, if I am still able to find you, I will, and then I will thank you properly."

Then, without another glance, the boy bowed his head to him, and, helping the girl up from the pavement, walked off with her, disappearing out of sight within seconds.

Robbie frowned, confused by the boy's words, but as he remembered him he felt the air get colder. Looking over to the tall buildings on his left, Robbie shivered and rolled up his window. The boy might have been right, something felt wrong here.

He started his engine again, and with a thought towards the two lonely youngsters, turned around and drove back home.

.

"MALFOY!"

Draco woke with a start, looking to figure out his surroundings. Besides him, wand clasped in his hand, was Harry Potter. With a jolt of pain, he suddenly remembered what had happened.

"Where's Hermione?!" he said hysterically, scrambling to his feet.

"I don't know, Nearly Headless Nick just told me he'd found you unconscious and brought me here. What in the hell happened?"

Draco's heart faltered for a second. Burying his face in his hands, he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the horrible memories. He'd burst into sight of the fight, and Hermione had hexed him to safety, condemning herself as she saved his miserable self. Anger rose in him like a hurricane, and with a scream of rage he turned to the nearest wall and punched it with all his might.

The wall didn't move, his hand though exploded with pain, waking him up properly in the process.

"Malfoy!" shouted Harry from behind him. "What. Happened?"

"They found her, that's what happened!" he yelled back, the pain in his hand receding compared to the burning in his chest. The guilt was already devouring from the inside, they had to get her back.

"How? Why was she out in the first place?"

"I don't know! One second she was sleeping with us, the next she was outside and got caught by those stupid, worthless Death Eaters."

He spat every word out, and Harry looked worriedly at the Slytherin's wand, which was spitting red sparks.

"Did you try to stop her?" the black-haired man asked him, unable not to ask.

"Of course you dimwit!" spat the blond. "But Hermione, she... well she jinxed me. She just saw me and threw an Impedimenta at me or something. The next thing I knew, I was here and you were waking me up. They must have gotten her, or she would have found me."

Silence settled as realisation suddenly dawned on them. Hermione was gone. Merlin knew where Voldemort's followers would bring her, or what they would do to her... And she had been taken because she had taken the time to save him.

Harry turned to the other wall and raised his fist at it in anger, realising just in time that it was a stupid idea. He dropped his arm and thought harder than ever. They had a mission, they had to find Ron, but this was Hermione they were talking about. She would do anything for them, they couldn't just leave her! But did they have the choice?

"Malfoy," started Harry, his throat tight with angst. "You know what we have to do, don't you?"

"Potter, tell me you're not thinking of abandoning Hermione," he hissed, noticing Harry's downcast eyes and clenched fists. "She would do anything for you Potter, and you'd leave her?!" he screamed, taking a dangerous step towards the Gryffindor.

"We don't have the choice!" the man yelled back through shut eyelids. "Ron and Luna are waiting for us, and you know as well as me that if we don't meet up with them, they'll be like sitting ducks."

That last part Draco hadn't understood, but anger rid him of useless questions.

"And Hermione?" he said in a terribly low voice. "What about her?"

"Listen Malfoy, Hermione would want us to go after the horcruxes. I know her like I know myself, she knows what our priorities should be, and Ron might very well have some ideas about that, otherwise he would have never told us to get to London. Besides, we don't even know where they're taking Hermione."

"BUT SHE'LL..." screamed Draco, interrupting again.

"I KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN MALFOY!" snapped Harry. "And I don't know how I'll live with the guilt if we don't save her, she's like a sister to me! But now might be the only chance we've got to get to London and find Ron and Luna. We need to go to London. Then, we'll look for Hermione. It has to be like this Malfoy. It just has to, or we'll never defeat You-Know-Who."

Draco remained completely silent. His mind was trying to wrap itself round the horrible situation, trying to make the best of decisions in the worst of times. Potter was right though; they needed to go to London. Besides, wasn't the whole reason he'd followed Hermione in the first place because he wanted to help them find the horcruxes? Not for her, but for the sake of defeating the Dark Lord. If Weasley could help them do that... Why would Hermione suddenly be more important than the mission that had made him stand up to the darkest wizard of all times? She shouldn't, she didn't. And yet he still felt torn between the two decisions. Worst then torn, he felt like his chest was ripping quite physically down the middle. Draco suddenly felt exhausted.

"Fine Potter," he practically whispered. "We're going, but may her death be on your hands if we don't find her in time."

The impact of his words made them both shiver, before Harry decided it'd be best to get to London immediately.

Taking the lead, Harry walked back up the stairs, cautiously peered out from behind the tapestry and took a step out, Draco behind him. They then sprinted to the closest window, realising it showed a view of the Black Lake. Wrong side. They ran the opposite way, crossing the castle at full speed, not even caring to look behind corners before they ran around them anymore. They were too angry to slow down and be cautious, too worried.

A Death Eater made the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and as Harry and Draco came running down the corridor towards him, he didn't even have the time to lift his wand before the two men had hexed him twice over, sending him flying into a wall, green boils sprouting all over his skin, burning him as they did. Mixed spells definitely made for ugly results, they thought as they kept on running.

Reaching a long corridor pierced with large windows, they screeched to a halt and leant out the openings, panting. They were very high up.

"After you Potter?" said Draco, not looking at him as he swallowed anxiously.

"Whatever Malfoy, leave it to the brave Gryffindor whilst the cowardly Slytherin waits. I'm not surprised."

Something deeply resembling a growl came from Draco's throat, and without another word, he climbed onto the window ledge and jumped out. He couldn't help the small shout of fear that escaped his lips before his sealed his jaws together, watching the ground rush towards him.

"Arresto Momentum!" he heard from high above him.

Draco landed softly on the ground, resisting the urge to collapse as he did so, calming his racing heart as best as he could. Draco Malfoy had just jumped out of a window hundreds of feet off the ground with the trust that Harry Potter would save him. He must be going mad. What had Hermione done to him?! "Speaking of Potter..." he looked up as he heard a rough scream, seeing that his childhood nemesis hadn't wasted any time and had also just dive-bombed into emptiness. Pointing his wand up, Draco pronounced the same spell and Harry slowed down in mid-air, landing easily next to him.

They looked at each other with wide eyes for a second, still panting from their efforts, but didn't take the time to rest and ran off again. They jogged down the steep hill before picking up speed again, heading straight for the Quidditch pitch. Draco could have sworn he'd heard a shout from behind them, but as he spun around, still running, he saw nothing. Either Voldemort's followers had found them and were finding a way out of the castle, either he had properly lost his mind.

Forgetting the sound, Draco slowed to a halt as his ally reached the Slytherin Broom cupboard in the changing rooms. Not bothering to ask for the password, he muttered an Alohomora and when that didn't work, took a step back and kicked the door open with a crack of wood. There was no time to laugh over the poor security as they grabbed a Nimbus 2002 each, still panting, and mounted them. In a whoosh of wind, the two seekers shot out of the stadium, straight over a bewildered group of men and women in black. Oh, he hadn't been losing his mind.

The Dark Lord's followers were too surprised on the moment to react though, so they helplessly watched the two men disappear over the Forbidden Forest. By the time one of them had figure out that they should grab broom and follow the fugitives, the two boys had disappeared under disillusionment charms.

In the castle, Amycus Carrow shook with fear. He'd failed again.

.

"Potter."

They had been flying for an hour in complete silence before Draco had spoken up. Frozen by the high wind, Harry turned to loo at him, pulling himself of the dark thoughts that were fogging his mind.

"What?"

"I can't just leave her to die."

He had spoken in such a low voice that Harry barely heard him, but he knew what he was thinking. They were both thinking the same anyways.

"There's nothing we can do Malfoy, we have no leads and no time. I wish there was more but..."

"Let me go see Snape," he interrupted, eyes locked onto the horizon. "At least he might be able to find those leads we're missing."

Harry pondered on this for a minute. They didn't have any time to lose, but if a few minutes could save their friend, then there was no hesitation.

"Okay."

And he dove to the ground, landing in the middle of a small forest. They had long left the Forbidden forest behind them, before making a sharp turn towards London. They landed stiffly on the ground and climbed off the brooms.

"What were you thinking of?" started Harry.

"I'll find Severus, ask him to find Hermione."

"And how are you going to find him? You can't go to Malfoy Manor, and where else would Snape be that wouldn't be watched by other Death Eaters?"

Malfoy stayed silent. In his worry, he hadn't even thought that far ahead.

"What about we send Sky?" offered Harry, and Draco's head shot up.

"It's better then nothing," he agreed with a nod.

He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. Higher than where they had been flying, his owl stopped circling protectively above their heads and dived down, landing swiftly on Draco's arm.

It only took him a minute to write the message, and as Sky held out his claw, Draco wrapped the piece of paper around its ankle.

"This is for Severus Snape Sky, understand? No one else."

The majestic bird simply ruffled his feathers outrageously, before flying off in a great flap of his large wings. Harry and Draco didn't even blink as they watched the carrier bird disappear. A few minutes passed before either of them said anything.

"Right, we should go. There isn't anything else we can do for now."

Harry mounted is broom and shot off, not daring to look at the blond wizard out of fear of seeing his own pain reflected on his face. The youngest Malfoy stood immobile for a few seconds, before picking up his broom and flying off once more.

Sky flew south, straight towards Malfoy Manor. As the sun set that evening, he swooped into his family home and landed on a desk covered in parchments and ink. There, he sat immobile and silently until the sky outside was completely black. Then, the door swung open and he hooted softly.

"What the...?"

Severus Snape strode over to the desk anxiously and, after locking the door with a flick of his wand, he ripped the seal of the message and unrolled it.

"Severus,

They've taken her, I don't know where. Please, find her! We're off to London, you must find her. I'm begging you.

M&P."

M&P... Malfoy and Potter. Severus felt his throat tighten at the news. He knew Draco well enough by now, he knew who he was with. Therefor there was only one daunting reason for this message to be in his hands: Hermione Granger, best friend to Harry Potter and key to their winning the war, had disappeared.

His eyes quickly skimmed the paper over, and upon finishing reading it for the second time, he quickly tossed it into the fire. He then grabbed another parchment and scribbled a few words on it. He had barely attached it to the eagle's paw that it flew off into the night.

Now sometimes in life one can be very, very lucky. Other times, much less. As Snape watched the bird disappear from sight and heard a loud cracking sound behind him, making him jump a foot into the air, he considered himself a very lucky man. The timing could not have been more perfect! The bird was out of sight and he was still safe.

However, as he spun angrily around, the old potions master froze, feeling suddenly very unlucky indeed. In his office stood none other than the Dark Lord, and it never forebode well to have the Dark Lord in your office.

Snape's head dropped automatically into a small bow, and he stood like that until the darkest wizard of the century spoke up.

"What do you know about the prophecy binding me to the Potter boy Severus?" he whispered in a sickeningly soft voice, his gaze lost in the fire.

"Only that it was destroyed by Lucius Malfoy two years ago my Lord," Severus answered quickly.

"Mm... Yes I suppose that's right, but that is not my question. Prepare yourself, we leave in two minutes."

The dark wizard headed for the door and swung it open, turning to face his potions master as he stood on the threshold.

"Dress warmly Severus, we are leaving for Tibet, where I hope to find this other prophecy. Two minutes."

Then he left with a hiss of his robes.

With a defeated look to his window, Snape grabbed his wand and followed behind Voldemort. He wouldn't be able to find the Granger girl, and now Malfoy thought he would.

She might as well be already dead.

But Hermione wasn't dead yet. Instead, she was in pain. In absolute and utter pain. Every inch of her was burning and ripping apart, her muscles and bones screaming in agony. She couldn't even tell where her body stopped and the floor began. Everything was blurry. Everything was pain.

She looked up through the bars of her cell to a black pair of large army boots. Wearing them was a woman with a wand pointed at her, a sadistic grin on her taught face. Hermione tried to make sense of who she was, but she forgot all about her as her eyes slammed shut from the distinctive feeling of both her legs snapping. A blood-curdling scream erupted in the air, and it took her a minute to understand that she was the one making the sound.

The feelings came to an abrupt stop, releasing her lungs from the strain, allowing her to breath again, before a choking sob shook her body.

"Is that enough?" purred the woman. There was something tormenting about her voice, alike the sound of screeching metal. It was a feeling that predicted danger, and a certain amount of madness that one should not deal with.

But Hermione had spent enough time with Draco to understand how these people worked, she had learnt that her wits weren't always enough to destabilise her Slytherin friend. Intelligence wasn't enough to fight these people, no, you needed something else to fight them: an unconditionally proud and unbreakable personality trait. She needed pride. A whole lot of it. In fact she needed that blindly delusional pride that all purebloods seemed to inherit at birth, if she could hope to resist them. And she was Gryffindor enough to have the courage to maintain that pride, as fake as it may be, until death if she had to.

So Hermione pushed herself up into a sitting position again, wiped the dirt of her chin, and summoned the most icy, despising and hateful Malfoy smirk she could muster, joined with her most hateful glare she could think of, her eyes burning straight into her opponents gaze, unwavering and unforgiving.

She might not be able to win this fight, but she could damn well make sure she didn't lose it. Her friends were safe with her, she was not going to reveal anything, not even the slightest draft of information.

And she had the terrible feeling that it was going to cost her more than what she had to give.

.

GUUUUYS I know I know, I'm a terrible writer x) I should have kept up but, well life fucked up on me again and it took a while for me to find moments when I wanted to write again ^^' Also I just reached a huge plot gap in my story which I was trying to get past but I just couldn't write these few chapters, DAMN IT BRAIN. I've written more, but not the next chapter ha-ha-ha (insert horribly awkward laugh there :P) But I promise I'll really try!

Reviews to help me push forward? ;) xx