Author's Note: Well, I announced on Tumblr that due to some personal issues I would be taking a break from writing for a little while, but then this chapter was almost done… so I suppose my break will start after this update. It might be a while before the next chapter comes out. Hope you all are enjoying the story. Everyone has been so quiet the last several chapters that it makes me nervous that you're hating it! If you are, I'm sorry… you probably will continue to feel that way as the story progresses. Lol! Please don't hate me. :)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Antonin grunted in pain. The impact of the lamp hitting his head wasn't enough to knock him out cold, but it was enough to disorient him. Hermione hoped it would be enough of a chance to find his wand before he came back into his full strength. She wished she knew where he had it hidden.

Unfortunately, the lamp slipped out of her grip to crash to the floor after the first hit across his head. There wouldn't be a chance for a second try. If she could locate the wand, she wouldn't need one. Hermione climbed off of the groaning man holding his battered head in his hands as quickly as she could. When her feet hit the rug she rushed over to the pile of clothes he'd dropped in the middle of the floor. She'd seen him put his wand in his trousers pocket many times. Could she hope in the excitement from earlier he'd left it there?

Fate wasn't kind. There was nothing in any of his pockets. She turned her attention back to the bed where he was trying to stand up. Still wobbly, Antonin nearly fell at least twice. When she saw him pull on the drawer of the nightstand, she knew she had to be quick. Dropping his trousers to the floor as she ran, she tried to get to the nightstand before he had hold of his wand.

She was very nearly too late. Antonin was already in the process of pulling his hand out of the drawer, no doubt with his wand clasped tightly between his fingers when she got to him. Desperation drove her to throw her entire body weight against the drawer. It closed on his wrist with a sickening crunch. He cried out in pain and she felt a little glimmer of satisfaction.

"You fucking…"

Antonin's words were slurred and his movements were still clumsy, but she knew he was still an opponent to fear. As angry as he was, she knew she had to fight or her life. There was no question his wrist was broken when he finally got it out of the drawer. It was the one small advantage Hermione had over him in the struggle for his wand. If he had been at his full physical strength, she would've had no chance. It was a humbling reminder how weak she was without magic.

A fierce fight broke out over who would possess the wand. Neither party was above using dirty tricks and cheap shots to their advantage. The wand slipped out of Antonin's fingers to land on the rug. Hermione threw herself down to grab it but wasn't fast enough. Despite being unquestionably afflicted with all of the worst concussion symptoms, Antonin's hand closed over the thin piece of wood before hers. Terrified that an avada or something more painful was on the tip of his tongue, Hermione grabbed for any bit she could reach. The very end of the walnut wand broke off in her hand, rendering the weapon completely useless.

She couldn't celebrate her small victory for long. Antonin was still a physical threat. As much distance as possible needed to be put between them. Quickly jumping up to her feet, she utilized her opponent's unsteady balance to push him into the nightstand. It was just enough of a head start she needed to run. On the way out of the room she grabbed her nightgown and matching robe. Some clothes were better than nothing.

Antonin was back on his feet when she reached the bedroom door. Slowly but surely he followed. She wished she'd hit him harder with the lamp when she had the chance. Everything would've been much easier with him unconscious and her in possession of his wand. There was no sense in dwelling on the 'what ifs'. All that did was frustrate her and waste valuable time.

Out in the corridor she tipped over a table covered in priceless, yet tacky, knickknacks the owner of the manor collected over the years. Everything fell with a deafening crash that could be heard all over the old house. It wasn't much, but she hoped the mess would slow him up.

Remembering the knife she hid in the vase, Hermione ran further down the corridor. She swatted the vase until it too fell off its shelf with a loud crash. The knife was easy to pick up out of the shards of porcelain. With it in her hands, she felt more capable, less afraid. She wasn't completely defenseless. Antonin once claimed she didn't have it in her yet to kill. While she hated to admit he'd been correct at the time, she no longer believed he was. As much as the thought of killing anyone, including Antonin, made her sick to her stomach, she knew she would do it if he came too close.

Curses and the sound of tacky rubbish in front of the bedroom door being kicked around reminded Hermione that she couldn't stand still for even a moment. Antonin was still a major threat to her injured and if she didn't start moving, he was in danger of catching up. With her clothes in one hand and the knife in the other, she ran as fast as she had ever run in her life down the corridor and up the stairs.

She could hear Antonin's footsteps a short distance behind her when she opened the door to the room Craig was tied up in. The door didn't require a key to lock it from the inside to her relief. As soon as she had it slammed shut behind her, she turned the lock. Without magic, Antonin was limited in what he could do to force it open. She hoped they would have enough time to come up with a suitable plan to make their escape from the manor.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

Hearing Craig's voice reminded Hermione that she was still very much naked. He might have seen absolutely everything she possessed earlier in the evening, but that didn't mean she felt comfortable being so exposed again. At least she could be grateful that the bedroom was mostly dark. Before she crossed the room to the chair he was tied up in, she put the nightgown on and covered it up with the robe.

"What's happening?"

The doorknob to the bedroom immediately began rattling. That was followed by loud pounding on the door and shouted demands that she open it up at once.

"I hit Antonin with a lamp. Wasn't hard enough to knock him out but I think I broke his wrist at least."

A proud smile crossed Craig's face. She felt a little embarrassed by the attention. It was what anyone else would've done in her position, wasn't it?

"His wand is also broken or he'd already be inside."

"Did you break his wand, love, or his wand?"

It took her a moment to realize he was attempting to make a crass joke. Any other time she might have been tempted to give him a weak laugh, but she really wasn't in the mood. Hermione rolled her eyes, only forcing an amused chuckle out of Craig. He hissed at the pain and while she was sorry he'd been injured so badly, part of her thought he deserved a little bit of pain for the terrible attempt at trying to make her laugh in a tense moment.

"This is not the time for penis jokes, Craig. Save them for when we're somewhere safe."

"I just wanted a little smile out of you."

"I promise you I'll never stop smiling if we can both get out of here."

She held up the large knife she'd stolen from the kitchen. The ropes that bound him had been conjured with magic, but they could easily be cut with a blade. Hermione started on the ropes at his ankles.

"Be careful with that knife. Cut the ropes, not me, please."

It might have been said as a joke, another lame attempt to make her smile, but there was a real fear she might accidentally hurt him. Her hands trembled. Every rattle of the doorknob or shout from the corridor reminded her that their ordeal was far from over. It was only just beginning.

"You've got this, Hermione. You can do it."

Craig's calm assurances were much more effective at calming her down than his jokes. She took a deep breath and freed both of his feet. Once she started cutting the ropes at his wrists, the fear returned. The noise outside the bedroom door stopped. That didn't seem like a good sign to either of them. He might have tried to hide it, but she could tell Craig was worried. Her hands began to tremble again.

"My mum loved to tour old houses like this when she was alive. She dragged me along to a few. A lot of the bedrooms had secret doors for the servants to come in without being seen."

Hermione's stomach sank.

"He would've explored every corner of this house."

Suddenly they had even less time than they already had. Hermione pushed away as much of her fear as she could to slice through the rope on Craig's right wrist. Down to the last bit of rope tying him to the chair, she was determined that she wouldn't make a mistake. She could do it. Craig was counting on her to be calm and steady and unafraid.

A hidden door in the wall burst open just as she slid the sharp blade across the rope. Startled, her hand slipped and the knife cut into Craig's left forearm. He flinched but didn't cry out. There wasn't enough time to worry about the relatively minor cut on his arm.

Still partially attached to the chair, Craig stood up to his full height to face the intruder. Hermione could appreciate how big and strong he really was when he swung the chair into Antonin. The chair broke into several pieces, freeing Craig entirely to grab the iron poker from the fireplace. Antonin lay stunned on the ground.

"Hermione, unlock the door and run."

"I'm not leaving you."

"I'm right behind you, love."

"You better be."

Trusting the former auror knew how to take care of his opponent, Hermione did as she was ordered. As she unlocked the bedroom door, she saw Antonin get back to his feet. The events of the evening had taken their toll on her captor. He was not as strong and steady as he normally was. Craig swung the poker at him, knocking him down again.

"Run!"

Hermione didn't need to be told to do it again. With Antonin at least down for the moment and not a threat, she had to make her escape. Part of her feared she would die in that manor. It was a disturbing feeling she'd had trouble shaking. She exited the bedroom and ran like she'd never run before. Craig was just a few steps behind her. Did he kill Antonin or just immobilize him temporarily? She was curious but couldn't stop to ask or dwell on it. If they were lucky, they would have all the time in the world to discuss it later.

The front door was locked. There was no way to open it without a wand or key and she had no idea where Antonin kept the keys. Instead of wasting more time worrying about what they were going to do next, Hermione led Craig into the dining room. If it worked once, why wouldn't it work again? She picked up on the heavy dining chairs.

"I broke a window the day I escaped. Unless Antonin charmed all of the glass to be unbreakable since then, it should work again."

Realizing what she was planning to do with the chair, Craig took it out of her hands. Despite being injured, he was able to easily hurl it into the glass, shattering it into a million jagged pieces.

She was relieved that actually worked. Antonin was absolutely the sort of wizard to make all of the glass impossible to break to prevent another escape. Of course he was also a fan of testing her. Perhaps he hoped she would try to break a window in the dining room again so he could punish her. None of that mattered. The glass was broken and they had an escape from the horrible manor. How or why didn't matter.

"Don't you dare, Hermione."

Before she could climb up into the window frame with all of the sharp glass, Craig pulled her back down. So concerned was she with getting out of there, she didn't consider how easily she would've cut herself on the broken glass again. He crouched down enough for her to climb on his back.

"You're hurt, Craig. I don't even know what that arsehole did to…"

"He didn't hurt me so badly that I can't carry you on my back for fifteen seconds. You weigh nothing. Climb on."

He was stubborn enough to pick her up and carry her whether she liked it or not. Anyone who ever claimed Gryffindors were the most stubborn had obviously never been faced with a determined Hufflepuff. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. When she heard his heavy dragonhide boots crunch the broken glass still in the window frame, she had to concede he made the right decision. No doubt her poor feet appreciated not being sliced open again.

"Put me down now. You don't need to carry me any further."

If Craig wanted to argue, he thought better of it. Back on solid ground outside the manor, he crouched down enough that she was able to get back on her own feet. The night was far from warm, but at least there was no longer any snow on the ground. Even if there was it wouldn't have stopped either one of them. Only seconds after climbing out of the window they both ran towards the gates as fast as they could go.

Halfway to the gates the sound of the front door creaking open broke the stillness. Hermione's stomach churned. She dared to look back to see Antonin emerging fully clothed from the manor's entrance hall. Even at the distance she could see he wasn't steady on his feet, but the fact that he was moving at all was impressive and terrifying.

"Fuck. I thought I hit him hard enough."

Was Antonin some sort of super-human impervious to all efforts to injure him? He had Russian blood on his father's side. Everyone knew how hard it was to kill Rasputin. Was that a common trait in Russian men with mysterious, dark backgrounds? Or was Antonin just simply too stubborn to be defeated? Even as she ran Hermione feared she would burst out into hysterical laughter at the absurdity of her thoughts. One consolation was he no longer had his wand. With it, he would've ended everything before she was even able to get out of the bedroom.

Both Hermione and Craig sighed in great relief when they were able to run past the open gates. Neither one of them wanted to admit out loud they feared there were barrier spells to keep them trapped inside the grounds at Antonin's whim. Maybe he never imagined either of them would be daring enough to try to escape or perhaps most likely, he was arrogant enough to believe they weren't necessary because he would always be able to defeat them inside the house.

Out on the road Hermione wasn't sure where they would go next. The village was a long distance away. If they stayed on the road they couldn't possibly run the whole route without eventually being overtaken by an angry Antonin. She hoped she would see Craig reach into his pocket to pull out his mobile phone, but he didn't. Of course if he'd kept in frequent contact with Harry, there wouldn't have been any need to report him missing and ask for information leading to his whereabouts in the newspaper.

"Quick, in here."

Craig took Hermione's hand and led her into a thick wooded area. Though it was getting darker by the second and there weren't any nearby lights outside of the estate grounds, he seemed to know exactly where he was going. She trusted him even as he pulled her tight against his chest and covered her mouth with his hand.

Surprised by the act, she began to get angry that he would dare try something like that. Ready to struggle out of his grip and give him a thorough tongue-lashing, she froze when she heard heavy footsteps pass dangerously close by on the road. Antonin was slowly recovering from his multiple physical attacks, but the effects were still noticeable. He held his broken wrist against his chest with his other hand. His breathing was a little heavier than normal and he seemed unable to walk in a straight line. Hermione could swear she felt Craig's heart beat against her back. Neither of them dared to move until Antonin was far enough down the road he looked like a small dot.

"Sorry about that," Craig whispered into her ear as he pulled his hand back. "I couldn't risk you asking me questions when he was close enough to hear."

She would've been offended if he didn't have a little bit of a point. While it certainly wasn't her first time running from a Death Eater, she supposed Craig had a bit more experience. And it annoyed her that she had been about to ask him a question right before he silenced her with his hand. The wizard knew her better than she realized.

"I've been searching these woods for weeks trying to find you. I know where I'm going. Follow me and be very, very quiet. Sound travels far out here."

For a long time they walked further and further into the woods in near silence. Afraid of losing him in the dark, Hermione refused to let go of his hand. It helped her to not give in to the worst of her fears knowing she wasn't alone. She tried to keep up the brave front, tried not to show that she was in pain, but after stepping on another sharp stick, she gasped. Craig stopped and stared at her bare feet for the first time.

"Fuck me. I didn't even think."

In the heat of the initial chase, neither of them worried about her lack of shoes except for the brief moments with the broken dining room window. Craig forced her to sit down on a fallen log. He reached into his pocket to pull out a rolled up pair of thick socks. After checking her feet for any injuries, he slipped the socks on and began using his hands to warm them up.

"I always keep a spare pair in case I need it."

"Resourceful. You wouldn't have a spare wand in there, would you?"

He chuckled. It sounded strange in the quiet night.

"I wish. Dolohov broke mine when he disarmed me."

Saying the bastard's name out loud ended all desire he had to laugh. Hermione felt the same.

"I should've stayed there in that bedroom and kept bashing him with this poker until he was nothing but blood and guts. I…"

"You're not a murderer, Craig."

Hermione reached for his hand again to offer him what little comfort she could. It was an interesting reversal from just a short time earlier when they were both still prisoners. He sighed, but squeezed her hand.

"I've never wanted to kill anyone as much as I want to kill him."

"I understand that, but it was more important that we run and get out of there. And as injured as you are? You could've killed yourself too in the process."

"He didn't hurt me that bad."

"Don't even try to convince me of that, Craig. I know better. I know what that man is capable of. The moment we are back to civilization, I'm dragging you to St. Mungo's even if it ends up with me in Azkaban for real this time."

And she meant it too. What happened to her didn't matter in the slightest. She saw how hard he flinched even just smiling at her in that bedroom. No, if he'd tried to kill Antonin with the poker or any other object, he would've only hurt himself too. Slamming the chair into Antonin had taken a lot of his strength. She was terrified that he'd upset some internal injuries she just knew he had no matter how hard he tried to pretend he didn't.

A snap of a twig nearby made them both jump. Recognizing the worst possibility of what the noise could be, Craig placed his finger over his lips to warn Hermione to be very quiet. That, she thought, was entirely unnecessary as she couldn't even breathe. He carefully helped her to her feet.

"Be ready to run if I say so."

His whisper was spoken directly into her ear but she worried they were making too much noise. Were they being overly paranoid? Surely there were plenty of other explanations for the sound. Winter was nearly over. Animals were moving about freely, she assumed. She'd watched Antonin disappear down the road. Had he turned back around? Was he able to track them in the darkness because they hadn't been as quiet as she thought? Or was it all her fault because she had to stop to have her feet looked at? She wished she could've just kept going.

Craig gripped her hand tightly. Silently he urged her to follow him deeper into the woods. Where was their eventual destination? They couldn't just keep running all night, could they? She hoped that in his weeks searching the area he knew where they would be safe. Trusting him was her only plan at the moment.

Another rustle of mostly bare tree branches behind them couldn't be ignored. It wasn't just a coincidence, but their fears coming closer. Hermione dared to look over her shoulder as Craig encouraged her to start running. Antonin was almost upon them. Had their whispering carried and revealed their location? There wasn't time to worry about the mistakes they made.

Somehow she was able to keep up with the long strides of Craig's legs. Maybe it was sheer determination or he was dragging her. She didn't know and didn't care. Antonin was getting closer. Her lungs begged for air and her feet hurt. Every second that passed with them still moving seemed to be harder for Craig. He might've tried to convince her that he was fine, but she knew he wasn't. Soon he would hit the absolute limit to his endurance. What would they do then?

The sound of rushing water up ahead grew louder with each step. It made Hermione nervous. Where were they headed? It wasn't cold enough for everything to be frozen solid, but she didn't like their chances if they got wet with no magic to dry them or no clean clothes to change into. Pneumonia killed wizards just as easily as Muggles. Unfortunately, just like Muggle medicine, magic didn't cure everything.

Abruptly, they stopped running. Confused by Craig's actions, Hermione started to move forward only to feel air underneath her feet. Thankfully, the wizard expected her to keep going and was ready to grab her around the waist. The sound of water was deafening. They'd reached the very edge of large waterfall. Enough moonlight shone through that she could see the drop to the stream below likely would've killed them. Or made them wish they were dead. She was certain that the area would've been beautiful to see in daylight when she wasn't in fear for her life.

It was too late to find another direction to keep running. Antonin had them trapped up against the edge of the cliff. Fighting him head-on would be the only way to continue. Craig stepped forward, carefully pushing Hermione behind him for protection. She rolled her eyes at the chivalry. Wasn't she just as capable of fighting? Later, when they were safe and alive, she would remind him she wasn't completely useless even without magic. Hadn't she given Antonin a concussion and broken his wand and wrist?

"There's nowhere to run. Just stop, Bear. Give me the witch and I'll even let you walk away alive."

Craig laughed but there was no humor in the sound. It sent chills up Hermione's spine.

"You really expect me to believe that? I'm not stupid."

"If you were smart, you wouldn't have come looking for the witch. She doesn't belong to you."

"And she doesn't belong to you either."

Antonin stepped forward, daring Craig to do the same. When Hermione saw the glint from the sharp knife Antonin held in his hand, she reached for Craig's arm to keep him back. He might have kept hold of the iron poker in his hand, but she still didn't like his chances against the knife.

"Honestly, I was hoping you would want to fight."

She would never know for certain which wizard made the first move. Maybe they both moved at the same time. It all happened so quickly she couldn't be sure. In the darkness all she could really see was a tangled mess of limbs as the two injured men rolled around on the ground. It was the most disorganized, brutal fight to the death she'd ever been forced to witness. Neither of the men were willing to give up.

A cloud moved away from the moon revealing enough light that she could see the fight was not going well for Craig. On his back with Antonin on top of him, he was trying and failing to push the older wizard off. So determined was Antonin in attacking his opponent, he never thought about the fact he was leaving his back exposed to another attack from behind. Or maybe he never truly considered Hermione a formidable foe. He had a history of underestimating her and it was maddening.

With her stolen knife clasped tightly in her hand, she focused on his lower back. It would be too difficult for her to stab through his rib cage. She needed to find a fleshier part to do some serious damage. Pushing aside her internal voice screaming at her that she couldn't do it, she jammed the knife into his flesh.

"Ahh!"

The cry of the wounded man ripped through the quiet night. Her arm shook with the aftershocks of actually pushing the weapon into his body. No one ever told her how it would feel to stab a person. Taking advantage of Antonin's distraction and pain, Craig was able to quite literally kick him off. Antonin landed on his back, further pushing the blade into him. His cries of pain were hard to listen to.

Back on his feet, Craig loomed over the Death Eater. Disgust was etched all over his marred face. With another kick to Antonin's side, the bastard rolled off the edge of the cliff. They heard a splash and then nothing else.