Chapters 51-60

…and a Little Assistance From Your Foes

‘I’ll be right with you,’ she called, ‘Just need to use the loo.’

‘Sure, ‘mione.’ Ron raised the hand that was not holding onto Lois. ‘Don’t get lost with all those Muggles everywhere. Or we’ll come looking for you.’

Severus’ scowl was impressive, but all it did was cause Hermione’s stomach to flutter. She shivered, recalling the touch of his hands on her hips, and decisively turned around. They needed to get to the Apparition point before midnight when Hyde Park was closed.

The crowd swept her away.

His body behind her…his hands at her sides…the one time when the sides of his thumbs had brushed against her breasts…and the shocking realisation that he was quite unmistakably aroused by their proximity…as he pressed against her back…

Hermione shuddered, gasped for breath—and blinked. Distracted by desire, she’d completely lost her bearings. Around her, the crowd was thinning out quickly, as Muggles hurried to tube stations and parking lots. The night was very dark, and somehow the electrical lights were not as bright as she remembered them. Oppressive shadows of tall buildings loomed around her. Suddenly she felt distinctly uncomfortable. As if someone was watching her.

She needed to get back to the hall. The pressure of her bladder was quite uncomfortable now. Mentally shaking her head at herself, she turned around.

Head in the clouds…daft idiot…keeping the others waiting because you get lost in dreams…in the middle of the night in London of all places…

Rough voices slurred with drink got her attention. She frowned. Where had all the people disappeared to? She really didn’t want to encounter a group of drunkards on her own. Nervously she felt for her wands, securely stashed away in holsters sewn to the sides of her jeans. But they wouldn’t help her. Not against inebriated Muggles. Self-defence was one thing. Awkward situations of everyday life a completely different matter. Getting away from some sots wasn’t a reason to hex Muggles. Nervously she bit down on her lower lip.

‘Look what I found!’

Oh no. They’d seen her.

‘A GAL.’

‘Whaddas aluvvely younglady alone here atnight?’

Urgh. There were five of them, and they were approaching quickly.

‘Ah you lonely, dahlin’?’

He was tall and heavy, beer gut drooping over sleazy jeans.

‘Lookin’ for company?’

She caught a hint of a cruel smile in the dim beam of the street-lamp.

Just a few drunks. Nothing to worry about. Just keep your head down and keep going. You’re just a few hundred yards from the RAH. Just a few more from your friends.

‘Looks like it, she’s all flushed up.’ Raucous laughter roared up.

‘Hey, chucky, why won’t you talk to us?’

She quickened her pace. She’d almost reached the hall. Surely there would be more people around in a second.

‘Don’t run away, we only want to talk.’

She ducked and hurried on, uncomfortably aware that they were coming closer. She could smell the drink on them. Her stomach constricted with fear.

‘Will you look at that tart? No manners at all.’

‘Needs to be taught.’

Suddenly one of them stepped in front of her, bringing her up short, while the other four closed in on her from the sides and from behind.

Oh God.

I’m in trouble. Really bad trouble.

Her heart was racing. Her whole body was shaking with terror. Now was the time to pull the wands. Her trembling hands slid down to her holsters.

But the men were faster.

oooOooo

Hermione struck out wildly. Panic constricted her throat. Scream. You need to scream. Hard hands pulled at her hair. Iron fists held her arms. Someone reached for her legs. Nails scratched her skin as they fumbled for her jeans.

Suddenly she could scream.

She screamed as she had only once before.

Startled, they dropped her. Her head struck the edge of the kerbstone. For a moment the world went fuzzy around the edges. Then a boot kicked her side, and the pain cleared the haze before her eyes. Another foot came down on her left wrist, pinning her to the ground. She could hear the bones break with a horrible crunch. A wave of sickness uncurled so quickly from her stomach that all she could do was open her mouth and vomit right at the man kneeling over her. He recoiled, and that was when Hermione saw the sixth man.

The man was standing behind her attackers, in the shadow beyond the street-lamp. He was dressed in robes. He had lifted one arm, a thin stick of wood grasped in his hand, pointed at her. His sleeve had slipped back, revealing his forearm.

On the pale skin the lines of a tattoo burned with black fire.

Hermione screamed and screamed and screamed, but her shrieks were fading from her ears as if she were moving away from her body. Darkness was gathering around her field of vision.

Then everything went black.

oooOooo

Snape’s head shot up as the Bond called upon him. The blood drained from his head as the chill of shock washed through his veins.

Hermione was in danger.

‘What’s wrong?’ Potter’s voice cut through the fog of fear rolling towards him from his apprentice.

‘Hermione—She’s being attacked.’

Pain and panic flooded him. He balled his fists, concentrating hard. Helpless struggling. He needed to find her. Nails shredding skin, a choking grip. He needed to trace her feelings back to their source. Screams that cut through heart and mind. He needed to Apparate to her at once. Agony. Sudden nausea. He needed to know where she was.

There! A sense of a location. A dark street corner behind the hall. How in hell had she ended up there?

Potter frowned. ‘How do you know? How do we get to her?’

‘She’s my apprentice. I’m Bound to protect her. Get your wand out and hold on—Side-along Apparition.’

TERROR! Mindless, all-consuming terror.

And then: nothing.