The Hunter And The Haunted

Prologue

The branches bit her, clawed her, and scraped her as she ran.

Fled.

Hogwarts is my home.

Hogwarts is my home.

Hogwarts is not my home.

Her brain writhed, screamed, cried out.

Her bare feet bled.

Ripped robes, ripped skin.

Blood. So much blood.

Dried blood on the side of her face, on her lips. She could taste it, feel it crust.

It was not supposed to be like this. It was not supposed to end like this. There was supposed to be light. They were supposed to be good.

Her lips were parched. Her eyes screamed with the pain of her unshed tears.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

He was not supposed to become this.

The promises made, promises broken.

Not broken, no. Because you could only break promises you meant to keep. And clearly, he did not. He never did. She didn't know when he changed. But he had.

And they had been too blind to see it.

She had been too blind to see it.

The cleverest witch her age.

Bleeding, Fleeing.

From the one place that she had truly felt accepted, from the one place she had once loved.

Once called home.

And the Forbidden Forest was cruel and wicked.

Unforgiving.

Its creatures would eat her alive if her exhaustion and sleep deprivation did not already kill her.

Hermione was weak. So weak. She could feel her vision blacken as she ran.

Please, she begged herself, don't fail. Don't give in. Don't black out. Please, please, plea-

She tripped.

Over a beastly root that seemed to have sneaked out from nowhere.

Her head struck the floor. The world faded. Darkness embraced her, laughing, cold and evil.

"She's alive"

"Are you sure? We should have let Aragog's family-"

"She. Is. Alive!" A voice hissed.

Hermione could barely comprehend the words. They sounded rushed, strung together...

Meaningless.

Cold, wet earth. That was what she could smell. But her eyes refused to open, her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth.

A pause.

"How do we know that she will help us?" cold, reproachful.

"Because she has always helped-"

"She was one of them!"

Another pause.

"Yes. Yes, she was."

"I say we tear her nails out, claw her eyes out, feed her to the giant squid!"

"Enough!" said the louder, more authoritative voice. The other hissed but didn't respond.

Silence.

Hermione willed her eyes to open, just a peek.

The trees ate up what little of the sky she could see, but at the corner of her peripheral, she spotted a mane of black. She begged her head to shift to the side. Willing to see who it was when the deep voice spoke again, with finality.

"We know she once tried to save the house elves. When no one had thought about their rights in centuries. That is enough for me. We will pass her on and out. Feed the next runaway to Acromantula's family."

Even in her barely conscious state, she felt bile rise to her mouth. the other voice whooped at the thought of watching a witch being eaten alive. But then darkness engulfed her again.

And Hermione was glad it did.