With a groan, Hermione awoke. She seemed to be lying on a vibrating surface. She was getting jostled around, an intense tattoo beating on the inside of her skull. Unfairly bright light shot into her bleary, sleep riddled eyes. Above her, a woman with intricate white markings on her face was piloting a ship, obviously not paying attention to Hermione. Something seemed to be pinching her neck, though that thought was crushed when unbearable pain suddenly made itself known, coming from her leg. With a huge effort, and a lot of hissing, Hermione managed to haul her head up and get a glance at why the pain was so bad. What she saw made the blood instantly drain from her face, leaving her pale as a ghost.

A huge gash slashed through her leg, deeper than she could see. The crimson blood seeping through the wound was thick, clumping and congealing. Bile instantly rose in Hermione's throat. Never had she had an injury as foul and serious as this one. It would take a while to heal, even with her wand…

Hermione's eyes widened. Where was her wand? It wasn't with her at the moment, she knew that. She couldn't feel it's tiny, warm presence pricking at her magic, either. That meant it had to be far away. Considering the circumstances that Hermione currently found herself in, it was unlikely that she would be getting her wand back anytime soon.

"Awake, are we?" Came the voice of the woman piloting what Hermione assume was a plane of some sort. "Good."

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" demanded Hermione. The woman tutted, smirking at Hermione. It was infuriating. Had her leg not been causing her some of the worst pain that she'd ever felt, Hermione would have no qualms about slapping the smug smile off the woman's face. The nerve of her! Treating Hermione like she was some child, like she wasn't even worth speaking to.

"Is that the thanks I get for saving you from those Scrappers? I think that you should be a little bit more grateful than that." The woman stopped talking and looked directly at Hermione, not paying attention to where her ship was going. "So many questions, and none are getting answers. Guess you're just going to have to wonder, little girl."

"Little girl?" Hermione seethed. She shifted in anger and gasped as the pain in her leg flared dramatically. "I am older than you."

"Trust me, you're not." The woman was laughing now, at some inside joke that Hermione clearly didn't understand. "Look, I'm taking you back to my apartment, where I am going to heal your leg. It'll take about a month, so you're going to have to stay out from under my feet, okay? Then you're going to take part in the Contest of Champions and entertain people with your undoubtedly gruesome death." The woman turned her gaze back to where they were traveling. "I'm Valkyrie, by the way."

"Oh, what a fantastic way to introduce yourself," scoffed Hermione. This woman, Valkyrie, clearly had no idea how to employ a single shred of tact in her conversations. That, or she just couldn't be bothered with decent manners. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that it was the latter. "Just kill me right now, why don't you?"

"No, you're far too entertaining."

"Well, thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Do you have any semblance of manners?"

"I just told you that you're welcome."

"It was very sarcastic."

"I'm aware." Valkyrie huffed. "Now, you're in my ship. Stop lecturing me about my own manners. It's rude." Hermione frowned. Valkyrie smiled, before digging something out of her pocket. It seemed to be a remote of some sort. "Now, sleep."

Valkyrie pressed a button down on the remote. Blue light climbed up the side of it, before electrical currents leapt over Hermione's body. She grit her teeth as the blue electricity danced on her skin.

It wasn't long before darkness claimed her.

"What do you mean, 'Hermione's missing?" A very angry Harry Potter was pacing in Atlas Valerius' office. "How can she just be missing?"

"It's very simple, Mr. Potter. Her work in the Department of Mysteries is very dangerous and volatile. There was a high possibility that she would make a mistake. And unfortunately, she did." Valerius tilted his head at Harry in a condescending way. Harry bristled, his eyes like shards of ice and lips thinned in a way that would impress even McGonagall.

Harry slammed his fists on Valerius' desk so hard that his jar of quills rattled. "You don't seem very torn up about this. I would have thought, with all the time you were spending with her, all the interest you were investing in her project, that you would be more than a stone cold bastard. Merlin's beard, I can't believe you were elected. You're worse than Fudge." A solitary tear threatened to fall down his cheek.

Valerius abruptly stood, glaring at Harry, expecting him to back down.

He did not.

"You have overstepped, Mr Potter. I have put up with you for a long time. I have let you get away with what many people would be punished and reprimanded for. Not this time, though." Valerius angrily strode around the large, wooden desk, feet stomping hard on the floor. He pointed a finger at Harry, and grit his teeth together. "From now on, you're fired. You're banned from working at the Ministry. And tell the same to your pitiful blind friend Ron Weasley, too. I want you both gone by tonight."

"I don't care about you firing me, Sir." It almost physically pained Harry to use the respectful term when he hated the awful man with every fiber of his being. "This is about Hermione, and how you haven't even bothered looking for her! You can't just immediately mark someone down as dead, not without looking at them. You can't just do this!"

"Well guess what, Potter," sneered Valerius. "I just did. Her portal is broken and she fell through it. There is no way for her to get back, so I marked her down as dead. I made the final decision and I won't hear any more from you. Understood?"

"No, not understood." In his anger, Harry grabbed out his wand and pressed it to the thick throat of Valerius. "You can't just do this. I won't let you. So, unless you create a search for Hermione, you're going to seriously regret it."

"Just because you fought in the War and defeated Voldemort, does not mean I am going to give you special treatment. Take the wand down from my throat." Harry didn't move. "Now." Reluctantly, Harry returned his wand to his holster. "Outside that door are two Auror's waiting to escort you to your old office, in handcuffs. If you make any move against them, they are authorised to stun you. Now go. I want both you and Weasley gone by tonight."

Thrumming with unreleased anger, Harry turned on his heel and stalked out of the office, not even bothering to look at Valerius anymore. He couldn't just give up on Hermione like that. No one could. She was too important. And to Harry, it didn't matter that he was fired. That was at the bottom of his list of worries at the moment. Right now, all he cared about was discovering what Hermione had been working on.

"Oh, Potter." Harry stopped dead in his tracks, not bothering to turn around. He wouldn't give Valerius the satisfaction of seeing him wound up like a corkscrew, and then some. "It might make you happy to know that if she ever comes back, I have invited her for tea. Lovely, right?"

"Simply splendid."

A stinging pain shot through Hermione's cheek. She let out a harsh yell, her body bucking in shock. Slowly, the pain receded, transforming into a dull, throbbing ache. She heard heavy, uneven footsteps moving away from her. With her left hand, Hermione rubbed the sore spot, knowing exactly who was responsible. Adding to the pain was the discomfort that emanated from everywhere on her body, a result of being electrocuted into unconsciousness.

"What was that for?" she groaned, slowly sitting up. Hermione was happy to note that the grisly gash on her leg had been cleaned and bandaged. At least there was one positive in her life right now. The rest of it was a total disaster. "And you can't just electrify me! That was absolutely disgusting!"

"I can do whatever I want, sweetie," came the slurred voice of Valkyrie. Hermione glanced to her left and sighed when she saw Valkyrie guzzling down a bottle of some unidentifiable substance. It was most likely incredibly strong, given the way that, even on a stool, Valkyrie was swaying, desperately trying to keep her balance. "And you weren't waking up, so I slapped you. It was that or ice water. You were asleep, so I chose for you. Pretty simple, really." She took another swig from her bottle, before losing grip on the neck of it. It plummeted to the ground and smashed on the ground, amber liquid racing over the floor. "Oh. That's unfortunate."

Hermione stared in disbelief. This woman was the most insufferable...thing that she'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. First, she cared more about a bottle of alcohol than the injured person sitting near her, and second, she had an attitude that would cause even Ron to blush. She was Hermione's worst nightmares and most unendurable annoyances rolled into one awful human being.

"Oh, isn't that unfortunate," Hermione mocked. "Where will you get a new one?" She swiveled so that she was sitting up straight, her leg dangling over the side of the window seat she was positioned on. At least the mattress, threadbare as it was, held some semblance of comfort.

"Good idea. I'll go and get a new one now. I'll be back." Valkyrie jumped to her feet and staggered over to the doorway, hitting a button on the wall. Nothing happened, which made Hermione frown. Perhaps Valkyrie was so out of it that she was pressing buttons that did nothing? The thought of it made Hermione snicker a little bit. Where this sudden hatred for Valkyrie came from, she didn't know. It was unlike her to dislike people on principal, unless they gave her a very good reason. Thinking about it, though, Hermione had several very good reasons, starting with the fact that Valkyrie electrocuted her.

"Don't go anywhere." Valkyrie pointed a finger at Hermione, waggling it slightly. "You won't be able to go far, anyway. Not with that leg." She waggled her finger again. "Stay." In the moment, Hermione felt rather like a dog.

"Sure thing," Hermione sighed, slouching back into the window seat. It was too far back, so she ended up lying on her back, with only her head propped up. The sight must have been fairly amusing, according to Valkyrie's drunken sniggers. She stayed there until the sniggers receded down the hallway.

Immediately, she sat up, intent on observing the room and any possibly exits. If Valkyrie thought she was just going to stay here, she was sorely mistaken. The room was mainly green, with jagged white lines cutting through the richly coloured walls. The pattered were fairly interesting, though nothing Hermione would pay closer attention to unless she was checking for a secret exit. Ahead of her, there was a small, open door, an obvious escape that Hermione would likely be taking later. To the left, there was a closed door, presumably leading to the bathroom and bedroom. That was one place Hermione would most certainly be staying away from. Finally, to the right, there was a small kitchen and bar, with three stools scattered near it.

The entire apartment was horrendously cluttered, with rogue bottle of liquor perching on shelves and peeking out of nooks and crannies. All of them were empty. This girl had a real problem, one that Hermione wasn't going to interfere with. If she wanted to drink herself to death, then that was her own decision. Strange garments littered the floor, reminiscent of armour, only with a modern twist. Lengths of fabric with clasps at the corners were draped around the room as well. It was possible that these were capes, though what need would Valkyrie have for them?

Behind her, a large window let bright light stream into the apartment, bathing the cluttered floor. Hermione gazed despondently out of the window, at last realising that she really was stuck on this alien planet. Towers cobbled together with scraps and large sheets of colourful metal reached for the sky, wonky and uneven. There was nothing like this strange horizon on earth, nothing even remotely close. It was so foreign to her that she began to feel slightly dizzy, and had to prop herself up.

Turning away from the window, Hermione quashed the hole that was beginning to grow in her chest and focussed on the door. It would be unbelievably simple to just walk through it and leave. The disadvantage Hermione had was that she didn't know her way around. Also the deep cut that marred her thigh. That would definitely be a problem.

Swallowing the pain that was going to come, Hermione gently stood, being careful to put as little weight as possibly on her injured leg. Even so, fire bit at her nerves. Biting her tongue to stifle the pain, she hobbled over to the door, leaning heavily on the green and white walls for support. Without any fanfare, she reached the door.

All she was going to do was stick her head out to scope her surroundings.

Unfortunately, the second she did that, a red grid made of lasers sprang to life over the door, setting electricity dancing over her skin once again.

Hermione was unconscious before she hit the floor.

"And this time, actually stay inside. You aren't leaving this room until your leg is healed, alright? You're too interesting to let wander around, and I want to see you fight." Valkyrie was standing in front of a petulant Hermione, hands on her hips. Hermione felt like a complete child, which utterly enraged her. Something about this woman screamed age and wisdom, despite the fact that she didn't look like she was more than twenty three. "I'm going Scrapping, so I'll be gone for a few hours. You can make yourself food in the kitchen, I don't care what you use."

"You do realise that you tell me this every day? I know it off by heart already. You can stop."

Valkyrie smirked. "Nerd." She sashayed out of the door, pressing the button that Hermione now knew activated the dreaded laser grid. She scowled at the back of the retreating monstrosity who was keeping her captive.

For the last three weeks, Hermione had been trapped in the unbearably small apartment. There was only so much she could do to keep herself entertained, and Valkyrie wasn't exactly one to help. She desperately wanted to practice her magic, to see what she could do without her precious wand, but she wasn't going to risk Valkyrie finding out and telling the Grandmaster about it. That was definitely the last thing she wanted.

Her leg was almost healed, which meant that her detailed escape plan was reaching fruition. Behind her immensely strengthened Occlumency Shields, something she decided to do to pass the agonizingly slow time (comparable to molasses), the escape plan hid, festering and boiling, just waiting for the right time.

A loud gurgle from her stomach interrupted her thoughts. She limped towards the kitchen, where she would prepare a meal. It was nothing more than a menial task, one that bothered her a lot. The food here was abysmal, especially compared to the food she was used to preparing herself.

Blindly reaching into a cupboard, Hermione swept her hand around, rattling containers until she found one with something in it. Valkyrie, constantly full on alcohol, rarely stocked up her food, so to find something was often a pleasant surprise, if Hermione was to put it nicely. If she was being realistic, it was a bloody miracle. Her frustration was so poignant that she was using swear words now, something that she never did.

To her surprise, a one of the last containers that she shook had something in it. Grinning in triumph, Hermione pulled out a clear, battered container with an apple in it. It had golden skin, and looked ripe.

Perfect.

Soon, the apple was chopped into pieces and neatly arranged on a plate. By some miracle, it actually looked like it would taste of something more than the colour beige, so she decided to present it nicely. Settling down in her corner, Hermione held the plate and plucked a singular slice from the plate.

It was oddly sweet, and slithered down her throat. She wasn't complaining, though. To have food that tasted of something was a godsend, so she gobbled it down and when it was finished, wished for more. It was absolutely delicious, and left her feeling invigorated and lively. That feeling was fleeting and foreign, so Hermione decided to make the most of it.

She leapt to her feet, barely any pain coming from her leg. It was unusual, but she would take it. Something about the apple made her feel...different. It was a good different, though. An excellent one. In fact, this was the best she'd felt since landing on this trash dump of a planet, and that was saying something.

Her eyes landed on the button, and a devilish grin came over her face. Maybe, she could hit it. Or punch it, even. It would let out her frustrations, and while her hand would most likely be sore for the next few days, it would be worth it to see the smug look on Valkyrie's face. That was very amusing to Hermione all of a sudden.

Approaching the button, Hermione flexed her fingers, curling them into a fist. She grinned at the button, before flinging her hand forward. Unfortunately, the impact never came.

"Um…"

Her arm was embedded in the wall, and the button lay decimated on the floor, shattered into several pieces. Hermione's eyes widened in complete shock and terror.

What in Merlin's name was going on?

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. It's moving the plot along a little bit. As far as things are going planning wise, there are around three chapters on Sakaar, before the big thing happens. I won't say what it is.

I am also going away on holiday soon, for three weeks, so expect a few random new chapters. I'll be posting them as I finish them. We're leaving on the 23rd of this month.

Sincerely,
Mariadoria