Alone
When she woke again, the boy was gone, but the book was still there.
She sat up and thumbed through it idly. It was an old copy of intermediate geometry. He had written numbers and scribbles in the margins.
She could hear bird song pouring in from the window beside her bed. It'd been a long time since she'd held a book just for the sake of holding one, she felt a jolt of joy so sharp that it felt like pain.
She caressed the book in her hands reverently. It wasn't until a tear fell on the cover, that she realized she was crying. She wept- for the ache in her arm, for relief at being away from the Malfoy Manor. Then she felt horrifically guilty for feeling relief, not when there was no relief for Harry.
Thoughts of Harry spurred her on, gave her strength to wipe her tears away, and stand from the bed. She didn't have a wand, the first order of business was getting a wand. She'd have to steal one, but once that was done, she could start looking for Harry. The last she had seen, Dobby had appeared. The image gave her hope that Harry had been able to escape the manor. She didn't know how she could find him, but she would think of something, she just needed to get moving.
She stumbled from the bed and towards the window, but her legs collapsed beneath her and she crumpled to the ground, jolting her knees painfully. Tears began falling again, as frustration at her weakness overwhelmed her. She had to get to Harry. He needed her. She could not abandon him. She had to get to him.
How could she have allowed this to happen? She should've thought of the taboo and found a way to protect them from it- a simple tongue-tying charm would have saved them all this grief.
Then she heard something that made her heart race. She turned her head, and suddenly the room was not bright and peaceful. Everything went dark except for the face of the woman with curly hair and a magic that tied her down and cut her till she was hoarse from all the screaming.
Hermione got to her feet, and faced the woman as fast as she could. The world seemed muted, like everything had disappeared, and again the chanting of please no, no more, no more that had been at the back of her head rose to a crescendo. She pulled her magic around her, stumbled into the bedside table. The book fell to the floor as she knocked violently against the table, and the sound startled her so badly, she jumped and her magic began to push at the world again.
The woman left the room, but not Hermione's head.
Everything was pain, everything was reverberating screams. There was cold marble under her, her magic was tied up, she was tied up and she was going to be here forever, and ever and ever, because her blood was muddy.
Hermione tried to break free, to stop the woman from cutting into her arm.
She thrashed and thrashed until she could not move anymore.