Hermione's stomach grumbled.
She sighed.
At least in the atrium there was a nice view, she thought.
They had all been placed- by that git Rodney, the one who had suggested they go to the Docklands in the first place, she noted- in different rooms due to story infringement. Something like that. She really hadn't caught the fine details there.
Harry had not been very happy though. She was sure they wouldn't have thought to displease the Boy Who Lived, but obviously, she was wrong.
Hermione pulled her knees to her chin. It was very lonely, waiting to be questioned. She wondered what everyone else was doing.
She inspected the walls. They were covered in maroon wallpaper- with patterns of fish, she realized. Why did these people like fish so much? Anyway, it was just like the room where they had, only probably two hours or so before, where Hermione had felt like their trip was over already, that she had found her parents that fast, that easily.
Her middle trembled.
Now she was farther away from them then ever before.
She tilted her head back so it hung off the edge of her fairly uncomfortable seat. There was a chute thing up there. She turned around to get a better look.
Chute?
She lifter her head up again. Now she was looking at a desk. In the corner was a silvery piece of paper. Silver?
Oh. Something clicked. It was the paper- those metallic birds she had seen carrying messages for this foreign ministry- Chute, the chute was so the bird things could fly out of the room, she supposed.
Now that she had figured that out, she fell back into her seat, shivering with loneliness and hunger. Some vacation, she sneered to herself.
You know what? I bet it is the same room as before. She sat up again, her brain buzzing with memories. Yes, she had gotten out of line, walked past the old wizard at the desk- and walked straight into the room she was in now.
What an amazing discovery, Hermione. You're such a genius. Generations of witches and wizards will marvel at your fabulous talents.
This really sucks. She put her forehead in her hands, trying to ignore the pangs of pain coming up from her gut and the sarcastic voices in her head. So you've discovered your in the same room as before, but that still doesn't tell you how to, for example, find out how the hell those Death Eaters had found them. Or it doesn't help you get food.
"Think." She said out loud, closing her eyes.
The only person who had known they were going to the Docklands was that strange Rodney person. But still, how would have he known they were going to the Doxy-Day Inn?
Her eyebrows contracted.
But, that girl- Tia- she had mentioned how the Doxy-Day was the closest from the fire they had traveled through.
Hermione's heart now pounded faster.
And- and when the Australian Ministry officials had sent them back to their Ministry- who was the one to send them directly to separate rooms- saying something about violations and Ministry policies? Rodney.
She stood up.
If what she was thinking was true- then she needed proof.
She was in his office.
Hermione ran over to his desk, looking for anything, anything suspicious or dark or- or-
She picked up a scroll that was stuffed unceremoniously in a rubbage bin underneath the desk.
Your contribution will not be forgotten.
She read, eyes bulging.
But, if you lie, we will not show mercy.
Hermione was hyperventilating.
If you wish to receive your payment, send back word of where they might be headed.
A hastily drawn X was at the bottom of the parchment.
Now there was nothing in, or on, the desk that seemed strange- but this paper- could it be?
She was lightheaded.
Sitting down, she blinked to clear her head. What to do next?
She ran to the maroon-fish wallpaper, preparing to walk right out.
Lights flew around her head as she stepped backward from the wall, which, she figured, had been sealed so she could not have come out.
Stupid of me, she thought, massaging her nose.
What next? She sat back in her seat, mind whirling, trying to decipher this plot.
Some Death Eaters found my parents, she picked out, deciding she should start from the beginning. They captured them- about a week ago? She remembered the records Rodney had showed her. But, then, why had her parents left the country in the first place? Perhaps, she pondered, the Death Eaters had found them before their master was killed and they had lifted her charms off them- but, underestimating Muggles, they had escaped- only to be recaptured after Voldemort fell- maybe as a way to save themselves? Hostages?
Then- then they had waited- waited for Hermione to come to Australia- surely they would get off their Death Eater charges if they threatened the life of one of Harry Potter's accomplices-
She gasped.
They had found an informant at the ministry- maybe there where a lot, Rodney only one of them- or maybe- her stomach lurched- Tia? That sweet, excited girl? No, no, Rodney even seemed greedy, gleeful that he had found Hermione, not like Tia- but Rodney hadn't told his friends how many of them had gone with her- The Death Eaters surely thought Hermione would have been by herself-
It all fit.
And now Rodney was keeping her locked in this room- why? Was there more Death Eaters loose besides the three they had just captured?
Hermione stood up, pacing- When were they going to come for her? Had they already reached Harry, Ron?
Ron. Hermione started to panic.
Her eyes searched the room for something- like Muggle surveillance- if they knew that she knew about them-
But all she saw was the chute…
The chute…
She darted back over to the desk, thinking it was worth a shot, maybe it would help- she picked up an eagle feather quill from it's inkwell, grabbing a piece of that silvery paper-
Ron, it's Hermione, she wrote. I'm very hungry, do you know if we are going to eat soon?
Harmless, right? She hoped so.
She lifted the parchment into the air, ready to transfigure it into a bird- she didn't know how else to get it to fly, when suddenly-
It floated out of her hands, folding itself into a complex origami shape-
She waited for it to fly out the small chute, but it was just hovering in front of her, waiting…
An idea popped into her head.
"Ronald Weasley, please." She said tentatively. The bird chirped and whisked itself away, up the chute and out of sight…
She plopped herself in a chair.
Seconds were closing in on her, every small noise was the Death Eaters coming to get her- she clutched her wand, her clammy hands making it hard to get a firm grip…
Fluttering was coming her way- She jumped up just as a shiny; silver paper bird flew down to her, opening itself up so she could read the message-
Hey, Hermione.
It was Ron. Temporary relief crashed over her.
I'm hungry too- know what you mean. No idea when we're going to get food though. Haven't talked to someone in a half hour. Have you already been questioned?
She thought about her response. Getting another piece of silver paper, she wrote down her reply.
"No, I haven't- something's strange- I need to talk to you. If you see any of our friends who distracted us on the roof, say hi" She read back to herself. Sure, it was cheesy, but maybe it would work?
"Ronald Weasley" she told the bird after it had folded itself. She went to work making three other letters, each talking innocently about food, trying to unfold her ideas out in an inconspicuous way, hoping they weren't being read- where were those Death Eaters? She had been in this room for much more then a half hour.
Soon she was writing the truth as frequently as she could, if someone was reading her birds, they would have come by now- she was losing track of whose letters where whose, she wrote frantically, her head glancing up at the wall every few sentences- then, what she had been anticipating-
BANG.
A/N: okay, I know short, but please tell me what you think. Really, I know you want to deep down there somewhere! Anyway, keep reading and hope you like where it's going.