Chapter 4
Hermione slipped on a pair of black leggings and a snug, long sleeve crew neck t shirt. She sat on the edge of her bed and bent over to lace up her combat boots. After braiding her hair down her back, she Slipped her arms into her tactical vest, zipping it as she stood. She plopped her pack back onto the bed and loaded down her vest with the essentials. The bag would be too loud and chunky to take with her. Cerberus watched as she strapped her wand holster to her thigh. She shrunk Collins old, tattered clothes and stuck them into a front pocket on her vest. Lastly, she slung her bow onto her back and made her way to the door.
Before stepping out into the hall, Hermione cast a cloaking charm over herself and Cerberus. She added a muffliato for good measure, she didn’t want anyone to hear phantom footsteps as she passed. They made their way through the stone halls unnoticed. Coming to a stop in front of Kingsley’s office, she slipped her wand from her thigh and pressed the tip to the doorknob. With a whispered alohomora, the door swung open to reveal a dark and blessedly empty office. Hermione sighed with relief; it would have been tough to explain why she was sneaking around in the middle of the night. She silently made her way to the desk and started sliding open drawers until she came to the one she needed. She quickly scanned the folder labels, luckily the one she needed was conveniently located towards the front. Hermione set Collins folder on top of the desk, flipping it open and silently mouthing the words as she read through it.
“Got it!” She whispered excitedly, causing Cerberus to cock his head with a confused expression.
After putting the file back into its place, Hermione made her way back to the door.
“Come on Cerb, I know where we’re going.” She said as she turned the handle.
After peaking into the hallway to check if the coast was clear, they made their way through the stone halls till they came to the tunnel that led to the entrance. Hermione couldn’t risk using lumos, so she followed carefully behind Cerberus, relying on his impeccable sight. She was relieved when they made it outside, and to the apparition point without drawing attention. It was a risk to apparate, as it was easier to trace but if she used a portkey, Kingsley would know. With only a second’s hesitation, Hermione fixed the coordinates in her mind and took hold of Cerberus.
They blinked back into existence in the middle of a heavily wooded area. Hermione took a moment to scan the area, confused until her eyes fell on a small cabin. She checked that the cloaking and silencing charms were still in place. Extending her wand in front of her she crept towards the cabin’s steps. She grimaced when the steps creaked as they made their way to the porch. Stepping over to the window, she peered inside. There were dark curtains drawn over all the windows. Reaching into the front pocket on her vest, she pulled Collins’ tattered shirt out. She charmed it back to the original size and held it out to Cerberus, who just continued to stare at her.
“You’re supposed to sniff it,” she whispered. He just cut his eyes to the shirt, not moving.
“Come on Cerb, you smell the shirt then the cabin. Ya know, to see if we’re in the right place” she whispered with a little more annoyance in her tone. Hermione could have sworn she saw his eyes roll.
The wolf reluctantly stepped closer and stuck his nose to the bloody shirt. Cerberus then smelled around the door and looked up to her with a small unimpressed nod. Hermione cast Homenum Revelio, which showed two people inside. Looking over at Cerberus she held up two fingers.
“We don’t want to kill them yet, just subdue them,” she whispered. She hoped he understood. Hermione led Cerberus back down the steps, slowly creeping around the side of the house. She stopped at the back door, reaching over to test the door handle. The knob turned easily. This was too easy. Why weren’t there any wards around the cabin?
She jumped as someone yelled revelio behind her, then the world went dark.
Hermione started awake, spluttering as a sudden splash of cold water hit her face. She tried to raise her hands to wipe the moisture from her eyes, but they wouldn’t move. Confused, she looked down to see that her arms were tied to the chair she was sat in. Her vest was gone along with her bow. The deatheater in front of her laughed as she looked up.
“Welcome back,” he said as the second man came to stand next to him.
“What’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skulking around all by yourself?” The second man said, eyes trailing down her body.
Hermione scanned the room for Cerberus before bringing her eyes back to the first man.
“Looking for your furry friend?” he sneered. Taking off his mask as he stepped closer. Hermione had seen him before, but she couldn’t place him. The second man grabbed the firsts shoulder roughly.
“You know they’re not supposed to see our faces,” he snapped.
The first man shook off his hand roughly.
“I don’t think it will be necessary to report this one. Seeing as she came alone.” The first man sneered in her direction. The second man looked from Hermione to the other deatheater for a moment, before pulling his own mask off. This man she recognized. He had been a year younger than her at Hogwarts. She thought his name had been Dean. He was one of the slytherins always trailing after Draco Malfoy. She wondered if he recognized her, he didn’t seem to. Hermione struggled against the bindings, as Dean leaned down to place his face next to hers
“If you say so Blithely, you’re in charge.” Dean said as he smirked at her.
Dean reached over and took hold of her braid, pulling her head to the side roughly. Hermione ground her teeth together, determined not to show her fear. Her breathing picked up, however, when she felt something cold press under the hem of her shirt. She looked down to see that Dean had a knife in his other hand and was slowly cutting open the front of her shirt. With a rough jerk he cut the neckline open. She felt the cold air hit the skin that wasn’t covered by her sports bra. Dean brought the blade tip back up to rest at her throat. She felt a sting as he applied a little more pressure to her throat. His eyes searched her face for a reaction. She wouldn’t let him see how scared she was. She narrowed her eyes and sat up straighter in the chair.
“Were you the one that took his arm?” she gritted out.
Dean studied her face for a moment before leaning even closer. Their noses almost touching, the blade pressed even harder into her skin.
“I did it slowly, with this very blade, the same one that will slit your throat when we’ve had our fun.” He whispered.
Hermione could feel the warm blood trickling down her throat. She closed her eyes, praying to merlin that Dean would just get it over with. Maybe she could rile him up so much he would lose control and kill her before they got to the “fun”. The blade suddenly left her throat and there were two loud thumps. Hermione’s eyes shot open. Dean and Blithely were lying on the ground now, clear across the room. She looked down at them in confusion, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, when she heard the floorboards creak behind her. She felt a sense of dread as she listened to the slow, methodical steps getting closer. She kept her head lowered, hopefully whoever it was would think she was knocked out while she thought of a way out of this. A black cloak and boots came into view at her side and her eyes slowly followed them as they made their way in front of her.
“Well, well, well what do we have here?” Came a deep, gravelly voice.
Hermione’s eyes trailed from the dragon Hyde boots to the familiar mask, locking onto the dark eyes.
“You!” she growled, when she recognized the intricate vines.
His eyes raked over her slowly before coming back to hers.
“Found ourselves in a bit of a predicament, have we?” He said in a flat, condescending tone.
Hermione struggled against the ropes, giving a growl of frustration when they didn’t budge. He simply studied her again before turning towards the deatheaters on the floor. With slow, languid steps he made his way over to where Dean had landed. Kneeling, he cocked his head to the side. Staring down at dean as he took the blade from his clinched hand. Straightening again he turned back to face her. He brought the blade in front of his mask to inspect it.
“I am curious to know what possessed you to come here?” He said flatly as he clasped his hands behind his back.
“Where is Cerberus?” She snapped, fixing him with a hard glare. She deliberately chose to ignore his question.
“Is that what you call the wolf?” He said in a bored tone. Sighing he picked invisible lint from his shoulder. Hermione continued to glower at him.
“The beast is fine, merely knocked out in the kitchen.” He said impatiently as he began to move slowly around the room. Hermione closed her eyes and drew in a relieved breath. When she opened them again, he was staring at her, head tilted to the side.
“You’re quite attached to the animal.” He stated, continuing to study her face.
“If you harm him, I WILL kill you.” She said through gritted teeth.
His eyes roved over her face again before he prowled forward. Coming to stand behind her, he bent at the waist to lean over her shoulder. Bringing his mask level with the side of her face.
“You’re hardly in any position to make threats, little witch.” He whispered in her ear, causing the hair on the nape of her neck to prickle.
His arm came around her and he used the blade tip to force her head up. Hermione cut her eyes to him; she was sick of people pressing blades to her throat. She watched as his eyes explored her throat, paying close attention to the gash made by the very blade he now used. His eyes slowly made their way back to hers.
“Just get it over with,” she spat.
His dark eyes narrowed, and he leaned impossibly closer, repositioning the blade to rest against her throat rather than her jaw.
“Always so quick to volunteer for death, little witch.” He whispered before he straightened up, removing the knife as he came to stand in front of her. He brought the blade up to inspect it again. Gripping the handle more firmly, he locked eyes with her before bringing the blade down swiftly. Hermione’s eyes slammed shut and she braced herself for the pain. She felt nothing. She slowly opened her eyes to find that he’d stuck the blade into the wood between her thighs.
“You’re psychotic!” she yelled.
He simply knelt in front of her, reaching into his cloak.
“I much prefer to use a wand. I find knives to be crud and unimaginative.” He stated plainly, as he drew a dark wand from inside his cloak.
He brought the wand up to rest just under her chin. Hermione’s breathing speed up.
“Ah, so you do experience fear.” He said with what she thought was amusement.
The prick was enjoying this! She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Straightening her spine, she fixed him with a flat expression. He watched her expression falter as he trailed his wand down the column of her throat. She felt a tingle as he passed over the wound Dean had inflicted. He brought his face closer to hers. This close she could see the little gold details on the vine’s thorns. Dark, unforgiving eyes locked once more with her soft hazel ones.
“As I told you before. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” Came his gravelly voice.
She was momentarily dazed as she was hit again with his stormy scent. There was something so familiar in the clean, fresh air smell. He straightened suddenly, flourishing his wand in front of her. She hadn’t even had time to flinch before her shirt sides quickly stitched back together. She looked down, taking in the now pristine t shirt sans the blood. He stepped back, once again clasping his hands behind his back.
“Tell me, what would Kinglsey think if he knew where his golden girl was?” he quipped.
She sucked in a breath, so he knew who she was. He fixed her with a knowing stare, as if he could read her thoughts.
“Ah yes miss Granger, you are quite recognizable.” Came his bored response.
“Then why didn’t you take me to the dark lord? If you knew who I was the first time.” She rasped through dry lips.
The large deatheater turned and strolled back to the other two men on the floor. Looking down at them he said, “I have plans for you little witch.”
“The sort of plans Dean had for me?” Her voice cracked on the question.
“I can assure you; I have no interest in your body.” He said with disgust. Not sparing her a glance.
Kneeling, he reached into Deans front pocket to extricate Hermione’s wand. Straightening as he slid it into his own.
“I find Deans extracurricular activities to be distasteful.” He quipped as he sent a green light into his chest. Hermione gasped as Deans chest stopped moving, no longer drawing breath. She’d never seen a wizard cast a wordless Avada.
“A deatheater with morals? Spare me, you’re all the same. Rape, torture and murder to get what you want.” She snarled.
He locked eyes with her as he sent another green light into Blithely’s chest.
“Now I don’t believe I said anything about morals, merely preference.” He quipped back
“You’re crazier than they were!” she grit out.
“Flattery will get you nowhere little witch.” He said as he sauntered back her way.
He stopped in front of her chair. She clenched her jaw and glared up at him. Without taking his eyes from hers, he took out her wand and slightly leaned over to slide it into the holster on her thigh. Her spine tingled when she felt his pointer finger run down her leg as he pushed the wand firmly in place. He stood unhurriedly, and with a lazy flourish of his wand, the ropes binding her came undone. Hermione rubbed at her sore wrists. The deatheater took a measured step back to allow her to stand. She contemplated what to do next. This could be some twisted game. He’d give her hope only to kill her as she turned her back to leave. Carefully bracing herself against the arms of the chair, she pushed herself up. He hadn’t given her much space, so she was now standing mere inches from him. He looked down his nose at her. Even with the mask covering his face she could sense the arrogant way he looked down on her.
“So, I’m supposed to believe I’m just free to go now?” she whispered as she carefully reached down to grab her wand. Praying to merlin he wouldn’t notice.
“Yes,” he quipped, not seeming to notice her movement.
Hermione took a steadying breath as she prepared to bring up her wand hand. With a quick graceful movement, he had Hermione’s wrist in a tight hold. Turning her quickly, he brought her into him so that her back was flush with his front. He had the wrist of her wand hand in a tight grip pressed to her own chest, effectively trapping her there. She wriggled in his grasp, only causing him to tug her more firmly into his chest.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” He whispered.
Hermione grunted in frustration and continued to struggle against his hold. She managed to elbow him with her free hand. Which caused him to growl low in his chest. Grabbing her other wrist, he brought it up to cross over her other one. He brought his head down to speak into her ear.
“Careful little witch, you’d rather I didn’t decide you not worth the trouble.” Came his deep voice. Hermione couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine at the feel of his cold mask against her cheek.
“Fine!” she spluttered.
He abruptly let her go and stepped back. Hermione spun quickly but kept her wand lowered. She may agree not to curse him, but she wouldn’t turn her back on him. For a few tense moments they both just stared.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Scurry back to the order.” He said impatiently.
Hermione stepped backwards towards the door to the small kitchen. She didn’t turn around till he was out of sight. She scanned the small space, quickly locating Cerberus. She ran the last few steps to his side, kneeling to cast a spell to rejuvenate the wolf. Her eyes darted nervously from the wolf to the doorway she had just come through as she waited for him to wake. Seconds later the wolf stirred with a low growl, baring his sharp teeth.
“It’s ok Cerberus, it’s me.” She whispered down to him.
He slowly got to his feet, looking around suspiciously.
“We’ve got to get out of here cerb,” she rushed out as she got to her feet.
Scanning the kitchen one more time, she found her bow and vest tossed onto the rickety little table shoved against the wall. After grabbing her things she rushed through the open back door, Cerberus following closely behind. They ran quickly through the woods; she wanted to put distance between herself and the deatheater before she apparated them. She didn’t want to risk him being able to follow her back to base. when she finally came to a point she thought was far enough, she stopped and reached for Cerberus. She jumped as a large explosion sounded in the direction they had come from. The last thing she saw as she apparated them away was a large smoke cloud billowing above the trees.