Men came and Hermione didn't know what to do. They burst into the salon she was in and she knew by the look of them that they were seeking her. This was bad, very bad.
"I am the property of Marcus Flint," she stated, but they still kept coming. She tried to run to the other door of the room, but a man came in through there too. "I haven't done anything. I'm not allowed to leave the house."
A man took her by the arm and she struggled. Something must have happened. She wasn't sure what, but something had gone very wrong. "Where's Mr. Flint?" she asked, but they refused to answer her. "I need to speak to him."
They were pushing her out of the salon into the hallway. There were many of them. Too many to fight off even if she tried. "Where are you taking me?"
No one said anything, but then one man pointed his wand at her and muttered. Her consciousness slipped into darkness, the overwhelming sense of panic giving to obliviousness. She was in real trouble, but thoughts refused to form and as darkness descended, she didn't care.
Her first acknowledgement of being conscious was a ticking sound, and scratches. Then her throat feeling as dry as sawdust, and she couldn't alleviate it.
"She awakes," a voice said. There was something familiar about it, but not enough that she could place it. Her throat was screaming in discomfort and she tried to swallow. Softness lay underneath her. A sense of danger entered into her mind, but she didn't know where from. Something was wrong. Initially, she thought Harry, but no, it didn't sit right. Flint. It came to her suddenly, as if emerging out of deep water. Something had happened, and she'd been arrested. "I didn't do anything."
"Oh, I think that is far from true."
Carefully, she tried to open her eyes, but they stung with the brightness. She was somewhere she didn't recognize. Dark wood paneling and a brass chandelier.
"Where's Marcus?" she asked.
"Marcus," he said with a snort. "That is awfully familiar for a slave."
The voice was starting to sound more familiar now and her eyes widened with concern. The room was large and sumptuously decorated, she saw now and she looked around to see Lucius Malfoy sitting at his desk, writing on a piece of parchment.
"You are a problematic girl. You have been from the very moment you turned up. I would have killed you then if I'd have known the problems you could incessantly cause, but divination had never been a strong suit for the Malfoys."
"I haven't done anything."
He chuckled, and put his pen down. She was laying on a settee of some kind, gilded wood with green silk.
"Do you know the guilty always thinks so. They genuinely do. Many of them, like you, are simply forces of chaos, and they are incapable of being anything else."
Now he came into view fully, his black robes and straight blond hair. It had been a while since she'd seen him, but he hadn't changed. That look of aggrieved hatred was there in his eyes just the same as always.
"I have not done anything," she repeated more sharply.
"Perhaps you haven't, and it is your mere presence that is so disruptive. Did you set Marcus up to attack my son?" His voice was soft, almost friendly. This was how he manipulated people.
"No. I begged him not to do anything."
"Ah. You begged."
"I don't control people. Maybe the world would be a better place if I did."
"Well, I do control people," he said calmly, "and you introduce chaos."
"You place the blame on the wrong person. Your son is the one who's introducing chaos."
"And why would he do that?"
She paused and licked her lips. "I don't know."
"Oh, come now, Miss Granger. You are better than that."
She threw him the filthiest look she could. "Because he wants to win," she finally said.
"You know, growing up he spoke about you more than anyone else. Potter initially, but as he aged, it was you. Isn't that curious? Why do you think that is?"
"Because I never let him win."
"Yes, maybe," Lucius said dismissively. He looked away for a moment and then back at her. "Draco has an obsession with you. I'm not exactly sure when it started, but it seems to have reasserted itself of late, and I don't understand why. Do you?"
How was she supposed to know? "Because he doesn't function in this new world you've created."
For a moment, Lucius bared his teeth. For all the coolness of him, the emotions showed through in little glimpses. Obviously, she didn't know him well, but she knew he cared for his son. It might even be touching if he, correction, they, weren't such awful people.
"I think he's drawn into the past," Lucius said, the calmness perfectly in place again, "and I think you are the embodiment of it. He must be freed from it or he will never be reconciled. So I am sorry for this, but the trouble you cause needs to come to an end now."
That sounded ominous. Even more so when he brought out his wand.
"What are you doing?"
"Solving the problem," he said. There was distaste on his face, but more worryingly, it seemed for what he was about to do rather than simply her.
"Just put me in Azkaban."
"I think we're beyond that. You need to be gone permanently."
"Wait," she said, crouching. There was no question of her being able to subdue him. Lucius Malfoy was consummate with magic, but he didn't like killing. That didn't mean he wouldn't to it to protect his son. "I am someone's property."
"I think in light of the attack Flint started, and the damage it caused, it's something he will have to relent."
The black wand pointed straight at her and she could see he was hardening himself to kill her.
"I'll disappear," she said in a rush. "Release the tracker on me, and I will disappear into the muggle world forever. I will leave England and never come back. No mess to deal with, no memories."
A tiny tick appeared in his eyes. You don't like killing, she urged silently. "No way to trace me. I will simply disappear like a ghost and he will forget about me. Nothing holds me here, nothing will draw me back. There is nothing here for me."
It was so hard to read his thoughts, but he hadn't acted yet. "Turn around," he stated.
Hermione was still half crouching and she desperately tried to think through her options. There weren't any. She couldn't accost him, and she couldn't run.
"If you release me, I'll serve as less of a stain on your family than if you kill me," she said and slowly turned around. Biting her lip, she braced herself against what was to come. Actually, did she mind if this was the end of her life? Although she'd balked out of killing herself on principle, would it be so bad if he killed her? It was kind of flattering that she was such a threat that Lucius Malfoy himself had to kill her.
"Don't flatter yourself," he said wryly.
It was true that she would never want to return to the wizard world, but was there anything to run to?
A mumble and pain hit her in the back of the head. She screamed and then collapsed. Was this what it was like to die? But the pain simply continued, reverberating around her skull like the force of a hundred migraines.
"If I see you in England again, or anywhere on these isles, I will kill you. But as you see, I am quite happy to do without the problems your body poses. I certainly don't want it to draw the disenfranchised to think of your death as some martyr's cause. Disappear as you promised. Your death is certain if you fail at it."
"I won't fail," she said. "It's gone? The tracker?"
"Yes. I might change my mind in a minute, because I'm not sure I have chosen rightly."
He walked back to his desk, completely uninterested in her, and Hermione slipped out of the door, and ran along the hallway. She'd been at the ministry enough times to find her way out of it and onto the London streets. Although she wished she had muggle clothes. That would be something she'd have to deal with later. Right now, she needed to get into muggle London before Lucius Malfoy changed his mind, or worse, Draco appeared. He worked in here somewhere.
Slowing her pace, she walked through the main lobby, trying to not look panicked and out of place. People passed her without particularly noticing her and she refused to look anyone in the eyes. Each step brought her closer to freedom. She was starting to feel it. Hope hurt so much it threatened to buckle her knees.
Just a few more steps and she would be there. A sharp bump had her stomach drop, but it was only someone passing carelessly.
"Going up?" an attendant asked and she nodded. Every nerve in her body was standing on end as she stepped onto the platform and turned around, where she half expected to see Draco watching her with his typical smirk, but there was no one she knew. "Don't dawdle. There are others who need to go up."
Reaching up, she pulled the lever and was rushed away to end up standing in a toilet. It smelled of disinfectant. She was out, but not yet safe. Others from the wizarding world were coming and going through this place and she wouldn't be safe until she was away from there.
Struggling to keep calm, she made her way out of the cubicle, panicking for a second and the door seemed jammed, but it gave. She was out, and emerging into gray and drizzly daylight.
Traffic noise assaulted her and the sheer amount of people. Some staring down at their phones, or walking with headphones in. She was free, for the first time in years. Now she needed to get away quickly, so she walked to a bus stand and looked sorrowfully at the driver while saying she was robbed. The woman gave her an unimpressed look, but relented and let her on.
Nothing felt as good as seeing the doors close and the bus pull away. Out the windows was nothing of concern that she could see. She was free. It had happened so quickly.