A/N: Yes, I'm back with another story. I found this in my gdocs and decided to try to work on it some. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter One: Take My Hand
Rubble rained down on them as they ran, screaming. Suddenly, the group Hermione was with was split. Spells cast behind their backs. How the hell did Hermione end up here? She ducked, narrowly missing a curse thrown at her. She ran, hoping to outrun whoever was aiming for her. She kept running, sending a silent and wandless tripping jix behind her, hoping she caught whoever was after her. Her feet propelling her off the ground as she ran from the castle and the one pursuing her. She pushed further and further away from any sort of support or help. For the Brightest Witch of Her Age, it was a really dumb fucking move. She could see people in front of her. Death Eaters. She looked back. Antoin. She was afraid that it was him. She cursed. She fell into his trap. She skid to a halt, bringing her wand up to her face, positioning her back to a tree. She kept the trash in her eyesight.
"Well, well. Not so smart, are you?"
Hermione sneered at him.
"Don't fucking talk to me."
"I'm not here to talk, mudblood. I'm here to finish what I started two years ago."
Antonin pointed his wand to her abdomen, which was visible through her torn shirt. She knew very well, the purple scar that marred her skin, and the curse he created. It should have killed her, but she silenced him, weakening the curse. Her scar twinged.
"Can you feel that, mudblood?"
Her panicked eyes met his. She stared into the dark orbs, cruel and lifeless. She took a breath. She'd beaten him before. She could do it now.
"I feel it, Antonin." She raised her chin, definitely.
An amused smirk came across his face, his eyes questioning.
"I like how my name comes out of that mouth. I might not kill you, Granger. Maybe the Dark Lord will let me keep you. I like them feisty."
Hermione shook, but only for a second.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Antonin." She looked at him for his reaction. She noticed the barest movement of his hand when she said his name, but it was enough to give her what she needed. She could do this. Couldn't she? She lowered her wand. Antonin furrowed his brows, but kept his eyes locked on her. She moved forward, ever so slightly. He raised his wand a bit higher. He looked back at the group of Death Eaters, all with their wands out.
"I've got this," he said.
They all scattered at the command. Hermione smiled. Good. He turned his gaze back to her.
"What are you playing at, mudblood?"
She ignored him, continuing forward, until she was right in front of him. She looked at him with her big brown eyes.
"I thought you said you wanted me. Well, here I am."
His lip turned up, slightly.
"You know…" he started, closing the gap between them, and bringing his hand up to her hair, pulling slightly on the unruly curls, "you aren't awful to look at…"
"You flatterer," she teased. She pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. His hand left her hair, and trailed down her face to her chin. That's when she took her chance. She blasted him away with a wandless, silent curse. As soon as he was away from her, she took off, into the Forbidden Forest.
"MUDBLOOD!" He was angry. Very angry, He might actually kill her now. She ran, fast, as fast as she possibly could, knowing full well he wouldn't let her go. She saw something out of the corner of her eye, and it distracted her long enough for her to trip. She tumbled onto the ground. She picked herself back up, but the mishap was enough for Dolohov to get her in his sights. He shot a curse at her. She rolled out of the way.
"I'm going to get you for that," he threatened.
She picked herself up off of the ground and took off, shooting a curse behind her. She turned, trying to zig zag so she'd be more likely to lose him. She dogged another curse, and shot one off behind her. She heard the sound of a body hitting the ground. She must have hit him, but she wasn't fool enough to stop and check. She kept running until she hit something hard. A person. She looked up into the slate grey eyes, unmistakable for anyone else. Draco Malfoy. He held out his hand to her. She squinted at it.
"Granger, hurry. Take my hand."
"I don't…" she started.
"Dammit, come on."
"MUDBLOOD, YOU'RE GOING DOWN." It was Dolohov. She just couldn't shake the man.
She looked at the outstretched hand.
"Now, Granger. Just… trust me, and take my hand."
She took it. He pulled her to her feet, pulled her into his arms.
"I've got you," he said.
And for whatever reason, she felt safe.
