"No one is impossible to kill, some just go down harder than others." – Fenrir Greyback
(in a conversation with Voldemort after the attack on the Burrow)
Hermione always watched what was happening around her. It was a habit she developed all the way back to primary school so she would never miss an important part of a lesson. It was a habit that had served her well during the war, and had kept her alive during her years as a Hunter. She always paid attention. Except when she didn't.
She was headed for the enchanted limo after finishing with a ribbon cutting ceremony for a new Malfoy enterprise, a potions factory that would employ over a hundred witches and wizards, and provide medicinal potions at a greatly reduced price. The savings was possible because of the implementation of several muggle production procedures and an extremely beneficial contract with a large greenhouse that would provide the bulk of the ingredients. She had barely plowed through the majority of the reporters clamoring for a comment, and was attempting to get to the car door while checking her next appointment on her Blackberry and shouting instructions to the secretary Draco had hired to follow her about when he had begun to shift more and more of the charity work over to her. It was in that instant of distraction that all hell broke loose.
She didn't perceive sound though she was certain later that there must have been some. She saw flashes of light, she saw blood, all that blood, spurting out of her secretaries' neck and splattering her face. The bodyguards Draco had assigned when she started to make public appearances, hulking wizards he categorically refused to dismiss despite her protests, fell like sturdy trees, their wands having not even made it from their holsters. She felt the stunner hit her just before her wand made it out and had time to think "dammit, too slow" before she fell unconscious.
Her head hurt like hell, and she was pissed. Years of battling dark wizards, traipsing around the country searching out Horcruxes and tracking murderous werewolves for bounty had seen to it that a simple abduction didn't frighten her, but she was hopping mad. She tried not to give any indication that she had awakened fully, knowing that would cut the time she had to gather information freely, but figured that the change in her breathing would have given her away if there was a guard on her that knew what they were doing.
There wasn't a whole lot of information gathering to be done with her eyes closed, but as Severus had told her time and again, never overlook what any sense tells you. There was no heat or wind on her face or light on her eyelids. That meant she was indoors, and either it was night or she was in a nearly windowless room. The pervasive silence told her that either she was alone or with someone with an uncanny knack for stillness. Also, that she was likely underground or in an inside room of a structure. Her body did not feel like it had suffered an undue time in one position so it seemed likely that whoever had stunned her had apparated them fairly quickly to wherever they were located, and that a fairly short time had passed, surely not more than an hour or two.
She was certain that Draco was already aware of her predicament and had likely mobilized half the country to search for her, but that did not concern her. She was not some wilting flower to sob in a cell and wait for rescue. No, she would far prefer to escape on her own, better still would be to do so and walk into the Auror office dragging her captors in a bloody little pile behind her. A very bloody, and very small pile considering she would dearly love to reduce whoever had done this to their component atoms at this moment. Still, she wondered whether she would be able to beat him to her rescue. He'd be furious if she did, and she would happily gloat that she didn't need his mollycoddling. It would be lovely. Carefully she cracked an eye open, and was met with, well, nothing.
It wasn't just dark; it was beyond dark. It was dark so deep she had no idea where the walls might be, and no sense of anything around her. This was going to be more difficult than she thought.
Draco heard the wards he had placed on the bodyguards go off in the middle of a conference call with the London R&D branch, and disconnected without a word or thought. It was only a matter of time until something or someone went after her, he had realized that long ago, and taken steps, but the thought that it was truly happening filled him with pulsing, possessive fury. Hermione was his witch, and anyone who harmed her would remember very quickly what a mistake it was to anger the Ice Prince of Slytherin.
He didn't bother to go to the scene; anyone with half a brain would have apparated far away as soon as they touched her. No, he activated the tracking spell he had put on her wand without her knowledge, figuring it was the one thing that was with her without fail. He apparated to the coordinates of the wand, not bothering with a shield charm or any other form of protection. Apparation hangover be damned, he was killing anything not her within sight as soon as he arrived.
He materialized in a cemetery in front of a statue of an angel curled protectively around a headstone. He was alone. Damn it. He glanced around and saw the statues upraised, supplicating hand held something. He took the wand, and a chill went over him. Whoever it was that took her knew to dump her wand. He had no idea where she was.
She smelled it before she heard it, and started to chuckle.
"Fenrir, I should have known. Gods, man, do you not ever bathe?" she heard
The snarl ripped from his throat and smiled.
"You're going to die, little mudblood, like the Dark Lord should have done when you were a little shrieking, pathetic thing. I'm going to make you shriek now."
"Really? How is that? Am I supposed to be afraid of the dark?" she drawled, hackles rising. She could hear him now, hear him moving, pacing a circle around her, and she realized the room couldn't be that big because she heard the sounds of his feet bouncing off the walls. And she knew how far he was away from her. Several things registered at once. He had to have cast a charm on himself so that he could see in the deep dark, he had taken her wand, and he was going to want to make it last. That final part was a relief, because she figured she would need the extra time dragging it out would give her to figure out a way to kill him first. She shifted and realized her boot blades were both intact. Wizards, always the same mistakes over and over again, get the wand and they think they have it made; they never checked for muggle weapons. But she needed her eyes. Or perhaps not. She smiled and rose to her feet.
"You know, you always have sickened me, Greyback. Kiddie killers are such cowardly scum. Where's the challenge? That's why you had to ambush me and take me in the dark. It was the only way in hell you would guarantee you'd win. Or so you thought." Trusting her nose she sprang, and her foot connected solidly with something that snapped as she hit it. He cursed, and moaned. She had caught him in the ribs, the bitch! He snarled and pounced, but she knew his style, could picture how he moved, and she wasn't there when his fist flew by. He sent a hex her way, and she vaulted over it. She could feel her blood begin to pump, and that amazing sense of liquid gold fill her veins. Magic. Yes, she felt it. Her momentary distraction cost her and a sectumsempra hit her arm, making the blood run, and she bit her lip in agony. Ok, that just meant this needed to end quick. So be it. With all her might she grabbed onto the liquid gold feeling in her body, and thrust it outward in one of the most basic ways she knew.
"Lumos!" light exploded around her, briefly illuminating the room, and Greyback screamed, his eyes, augmented by the charm and his werewolf nature, making him even more vulnerable to the white explosion in the room. She did the only thing she could, springing at him, hands ripping the twin daggers she carried out of her boots, and both blades slammed directly into his chest. She used her whole bodyweight to thrust them to the hilt then used the hilts to swing around him, twisting the daggers in his chest cavity. She felt something give way inside him, and they were both falling, he gurgling curses that she only half understood as the brief flare faded, and she grabbed his wand, cursing when it fought against responding to her, but finally guttered with a sickly glow. She saw the door, and blew it open with a hex, forcing the strange, uncomfortable wand to respond, and saw the outdoors. With a grin she stalked back over to the corpse of the werewolf and kicked it several times.
"I told you one day, Greyback, I would take your damned pelt for bounty," she snarled, and grabbing him, apparated directly to the front steps of the Ministry.
Draco was striding up the steps to the Ministry when a thunderous apparation sounded right in front of him, and two figures careened gracelessly into his path, almost knocking his feet out from under him. Cursing, he raised his wand to hex the unfortunate ignoramus into the middle of next week when he looked into a pair of familiar liquid chocolate and gold eyes. Hermione dropped the wand she was holding, fingers finally going nerveless as the adrenaline left her system, her magic critically drained and the blood continued to gush from the slash on her arm. She looked at Draco in perplexed surprise, then shrugged.
"Hi honey, I'm home, and I brought you a present," she said with a semi lucid giggle, pointing to the limp form at her feet. Then she passed out.