Hermione just wanted to get out. A Death Eater had locked her in a prison cell with no door. The walls were made of huge immobile stones stuffed with dirt and moss in the cracks. She could tell they were enchanted so as to act like glue sticking the stones together. This cell was not supposed to have an escape route. She was scared. She wasn't even sure which side had won the war. She didn't know who was on whose side anymore. Crabbe had killed Goyle and Mlafoy had saved her life but then proceeded to kill Luna Lovegood. Snape had protected Bill Weasly but narrowly missed Charlie's head with the Killing Curse. Hermione was too perplexed and exhausted to think.
Hermione suddenly heard breathing, besides her own, in the room. She sat as still as possible deciding what to do. The breather was either sick or dying because the breaths were sharp and far between, more like gasping than breathing. 'It could be an animal,' she thought, considering her options, 'it could be a friend… or enemy.'
'Help,' the breather whispered.
Hermione couldn't tell whose voice it was, farther than the fact that it belonged to a man. Hermione closed her eyes before turning around. It could be Ron; Hermione had gotten to know Ron in unexpected ways after they had visited Godric's Hollow, back in August. She wouldn't be too upset at all if it was Ron. He was the 'love of her life', Hermione had gotten used to saying. It could be Ron or Harry, Harry always knew just what to do, he had that sort of bravery; her love for him was 'just sisterly love', Hermione had to constantly remind herself now.
A hand slipped onto her left shoulder. Hermione stared at it. The hand was pale. So pale, the blue veins were completely visible through the pale skin. The skin looked almost translucent, as if it's owner hadn't seen food or daylight for months. The breather's hand was shaking slightly and bleeding profusely. Hermione saw the blood from a huge gash on the wrist. It bled through the visible hem of black robes. Black robes…. Death Eater's robes…. Bleeding wrist…. Dark Mark…
Suddenly the hand caught Hermione around her neck and pulled her down onto the concave, the result of a lack of food in the breather's stomach with astonishing force. Hermione was covered in blood that was not her own. There was a huge cut in the stomach, she realized. She was lying on top of a Death Eater. She looked up in order to distinguish the face; Draco Malfoy was dying.