AN: Wow, it has been AAAGGGEESSS since I last updated! Please don't hex me :) This is only a short chappy, but I actually quite like it...more than the last anyway.

Chapter 3

Into The Moors

As Hermione walked randomly through the muddy fields in her night gown and fluffy slippers; occasionally glancing over her shoulder to make sure Ron wasn't hot on her heels with a flaming pitchfork; she went through her list of people that she might find refuge with. After about an hour of debating with herself, she came to an unsettling conclusion: There was nowhere she could really go.

If she went to Harry's, then there would be no avoiding Ron.

If she went to the Burrow, Hermione would have Molly to answer to; which is something she'd rather not face, thinking back to their fourth year when Molly had believed her to be a scarlet woman. What Mrs. Weasley would do to her if she found out that she'd left her youngest son, Hermione would rather not imagine. So, generally, all of the Weasleys were a no-go.

Neville and Hannah had just had their first child, so she didn't feel entirely comfortable intruding on them.

Luna and Rolf were off to Merlin-knows-where, so they were out of the question.

There was no way she'd be going to Seamus and Lavender's, because of, well, Lavender. Enough said.

And those were basically all of her options; for she either didn't know where the others lived, as in the case of Dean and Alicia; or she wasn't close enough to them to expect them to take her, in the case of the unmarried twins Padma an Parvati.

She skidded on the wet grass, and her foot - slipper and all - sloshed into a muddy brown puddle. Great. She kicked off both slippers in disgust and untangled herself from her now dirty and matted dressing gown. Hermione stood barefooted and shivering, clutching her wand tightly in her right hand, in the middle of a field and watched with dismay as dark, haunting clouds slid across the moon overhead. Brilliant.

It started to rain.

Oh how Hermione wished she could sit snugly by the crackling fire with a cup of steaming tea and a nice, well-read book.

Books. That was it. If she were back at Hogwarts (Merlin, it felt like millennia ago, she realised with horror how time had flown by), she would have huddled together in some quiet corner of the library. She bitterly remembered another reason why the library had been her safe haven: Ron never went there. And in that aspect he'd never really changed.

Would he come look for her? Or would a bottle of fire whiskey take, Hermione Weasley's, born a Granger's, place? If it did, then not for very long, as a bottle of fire whiskey couldn't prepare a breakfast, nor a lunch or dinner. She started to walk faster, the smell of old parchment and the quietly rustling sound of turning pages, giving wings to her steps as she made her way to Diagon Alley and it's familiar book store, Flourish and Blotts. After several minutes of slipping and sliding, Hermione stopped abruptly, her breath visible in the cold night air before her. She wasn't really going to walk, was she? Hermione looked down at herself. If she hadn't been so stupid and had used her head for two seconds, she thought annoyed, she could have saved herself from being covered in half of the mud and bits of grass. As is was, there wasn't much she could do anymore, and so she turned on the spot and apparated directly into Diagon Alley.

Unfortunately, Diagon Alley's only apparition point was at the intersection with Knockturn Alley. A chill ran down Hermione's spine as she watched the fog swirl unnaturally between the dark shops, every now and then revealing a hunched figure here or dark blob there. Hermione shook herself nervously and, gripping her wand more tightly than before, set off at a brisk pace down Diagon Alley, her bare feet numb from splashing in the icy puddles. Soon enough Hermione's trek through the dark, deserted road came to an end beneath the creaking wooden sign that read: Flourish and Blotts. But it was another sign – the sign in the window – that was like a slap in the face: CLOSED. Of course. It was, after all, only about 3 a.m. Silly Hermione.

So, what now?

Exhausted and absolutely drenched, (for it was raining heavily in London too, as it does), Hermione let herself fall onto the topmost step and leaned her head against the glass pane of the door. Her woollen scarf that she'd gotten from Luna last Christmas, she remembered regrettably, was lying in all its softness in the middle drawer of her wardrobe. Hermione started to wish she hadn't acted so irrationally, and left in such a rush...

A gust of wind blew through Diagon Alley causing the raindrops to pelt Hermione violently like bullets. A ghostly howl made the hairs on her back stand up; and when one of the streetlamps flickered eerily no two feet away she had suppress a whimper.

Hermione slowly raised her head and the blood froze in her veins. Her heart, that had been beating franticly before, nearly came to a complete stand still.

Barely in her eye line, fuzzy from the heavy rain and fog, stood a tall dark shape. As she stared, it started moving towards her. Hermione looked around, there was nobody else to be seen. Suddenly her heart kick-started, and it felt like a caged bird was beating against her ribs. A flash of lightning illuminated the dark purple sky and its angry black clouds, and gave Hermione the chance to see through the heavy sheet of rain and at the tall cloaked figure coming closer.

Closer, and closer the shape came until it was only a few meters away and Hermione could see the fog swirling around the bottom of the dark cloak. She could feel the ear splitting clap of thunder reverberate through her bones, and she huddled closer into the corner – hoping and praying that the figure would pass.

No such luck. The hooded figure took another few steady strides towards her and Hermione flinched back as a bright light flared up inches from her face.

AN: And with that little cliffy I leave you until next time...which, I warn you, could be a while because firstly, I haven't even started chapter 4 and secondly, I have exams coming up which means I will make an attempt at studying :/ Ciaoooooooo with a Miaowwwwww!