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Viktor Krum held Hermione's hand, their fast footsteps echoing off the dark, empty buildings of Hogsmeade. Hermione was out of breath, but didn't say so as they reached the foot of a hill. The cobblestone road ended at a slight incline, dissolving into a hard dirt path that began creeping up the steep hillside. Hermione swallowed thickly, her mouth like cotton from the extraordinarily long run from Hogwarts and through Hogsmeade.
The only thought that ran through Hermione's mind was what everyone would be thinking when they found out she was gone. They would assume an innocent person wouldn't attempt to escape. She half-hoped that Professor Kinsley would discover the mess in the dungeons, eventually realizing that Krum had told Hermione the truth about everything.
"Viktor," Hermione managed to breathe as they reached the crest of the hill. "Viktor, I need to stop." Her leg muscles were tingling uncomfortably from their extensive use, especially because she had barely used them at all in the past few days. Krum stopped and let Hermione sit in the shadow of a tall tree, while he surveyed their surroundings from the top of the hill.
"You are doing the right thing," he assured her as she caught her breath. "The Bulgarian Ministry vill make sure you are safe."
She hoped so. She tried to see Hogwarts over the mess of trees and hills that scattered the edges of Hogsmeade. Viktor was staring somewhere to his left; Hermione followed his gaze and found a small cluster of lights barely visible through the tops of the trees. Was that Hogwarts, or were those torches moving? Were they already out looking for her? Or was that her paranoia?
The fact that Aurors were in the castle at the time of her escape did not comfort Hermione, since they were the best at capturing the most cunning of Death Eaters. This strengthened her resolve to continue her journey with Viktor.
He told her that because of his ties to the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic, he could get them safely to Bulgaria, without being captured. A friend was meeting them in a muggle town and from there they could travel by car to a remote area where they would continue on broomsticks. Hermione wasn't keen about traveling on a broomstick, never having fully mastered the feel of it; she was much better at watching other people fly.
She stood up, stretching out her painfully overused legs.
"I can keep going," she said. Krum turned to her, smiled slightly, and led the way down the other side of the hill.
The muggle town was remarkably close to Hogsmeade, and they were on the paved main road before Hermione needed another rest. Krum slowed to a walk, and Hermione followed suit; he was looking at the signs on the muggle stores, obviously searching for a specific one.
He stopped at a Laundromat and followed the drive that curved around to the back of the store. There, a nondescript black van waited in the shadow of an overgrown oak tree, and Krum gave Hermione a significant glance. The driver beckoned them to come closer. This was Krum's Bulgarian friend. Through the heavily tinted window, Hermione could see the driver pointing to the back of the van. Krum gave him a thumbs-up.
"He vants us to get in the back," he whispered. "That vay nobody vill see us during the drive."
Hermione followed him to the back, uneasily looking over her shoulder, half-expecting a group of Aurors to turn the corner into the dark alley.
"It is okay, nobody followed us," Krum said, attempting to assuage her fears. He opened the back door. "Just get in."
Hermione couldn't see into the van at all, and blindly hoisted herself over the bumper and into the empty blackness.
Except the van wasn't empty. Hermione's hand landed what felt like somebody's clothed leg. She reached out to feel if someone was actually there. The back door slammed shut.
"Viktor?" Hermione asked, unable to mask the fear in her voice. "Viktor, where are you?"
Her hand was still outstretched, and she felt a large hand grab her wrist.
"No!" she screamed, feeling the van lurch into motion. Another hand grabbed her other wrist, and then another pinned down her leg. There was more than one person in the back with her, and she couldn't see anything. A sickness dropped into her stomach unlike any she'd ever felt. She'd heard stories about teenage girls being kidnapped and they all wound up the same way: raped and murdered.
"Let me go!" she yelled, hoping for someone outside the van to hear her. "Please!"
More hands held her down. There were at least four men in the back of the van with her, their eight strong arms wrapping around her like an octopus. One of the hands wrapped around her neck and she stopped screaming.
"Don't hurt her," she heard Krum's voice from the front.
"Don't vorry, Viktor," the one holding her neck mocked, but he loosened his grip so she could breathe.
Hermione's heart was beating out of control as she was completely pinned to the floor of the van. She didn't have a chance at escaping this time.
The men started jabbering in German at each other and the dim overhead light of the van turned on. Four men, none of whom were familiar to Hermione, were holding down her arms and legs. A fifth rummaged through a bag near Hermione's head.
"Let me go," she gasped feebly through her constricted throat.
"All in good time, cupcake," the one looking through the bag answered in an American accent. He produced a thin vial of clear liquid and popped off the cork.
This is it, Hermione thought to herself, shutting her eyes and mouth tightly.
"Oh, come on now, lamb," the American chided. "Don't make me do somethin' I don't wanna do."
He clamped her nose shut. Hermione held her breath for as long as she could, but the instant she opened her mouth to breathe, the contents of the vial were dumped into her mouth.
She choked on it, trying not to swallow, but it went down unmercifully quickly.
"What's you're name?" the American asked.
"Hermione," she heard someone answer.
"How old're you?"
"Sixteen."
Hermione's heart felt like it stopped. She was answering their questions without meaning to. It sounded like someone else's voice, but it was hers. Veritaserum, her foggy memory suddenly remembered.
"Do you remember anything from this past year?"
"I have dreams," she heard, "but I never remember them in the morning."
I do? Hermione didn't know that Veritaserum could override memory loss.
"Did you see Harry Potter die?"
"Yes."
I did?
"Did you see someone in the forest chasing Harry that night?"
"Yes."
Ask me, Hermione thought suddenly. Go ahead, I want to know the truth.
"Was your wand used to produce the killing spell?"
"Yes."
Just ask the real question.
"Were you holding the wand at the time?"
"Yes."
If Hermione's heart had been stopped before, it was making up for it by beating furiously now.
"Hermione, did you kill Harry Potter?"
"Yes."