The boy in the hammock

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Depressing, but true.

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Run faster, run faster, run faster...

Hermione ran as though her life depended on it, because at this particular moment in time, it did. She couldn't afford to be caught, not now, not ever.

The tent was a lost cause. It was left back at their camp, back with Harry and Ron, she hoped. She hoped more than anything they wouldn't get taken... That they would stay inside the protective barrier until the snatchers were gone. Hermione only wished she had been that sensible - it had been over a day and a half since they had found food, and in a moment of desperation, she had left the safe confines of the tent to find something to eat. The boys were inside sleeping. Maybe they had yet to wake. She could only hope.

Idiot. Bloody well walked into an entire group of snatchers, of course. The one time you take a chance.

The second she saw the snatchers, menacing and sneering, and in larger numbers than she would have expected, she ran in the opposite direction of the boys. It was sheer instinct, and she was glad for it. Harry and Ron couldn't be caught. They were worth more than she was. She ran through the cramp that had embedded itself in her side. She ran beyond the point of knowing how to get back. But it had to be on foot... She knew if she disapparated, she would never find the boys again. If she could only outrun them...

She chanced a look over her shoulder as her feet propelled her forward. At least twenty of them, all following closely, shooting hexes at her. It was a miracle she hadn't been hit yet, saved by the thick brush and the speed of her own exhausted legs.

Run faster, run faster, run faster...

But really, there was no chance. With every stride, it was becoming clearer. There was no losing them in numbers like this. She would have to leave. She would have to be separated from Harry and Ron or she would die, and so would they.

Her chest constricted with panic as the realization hit her. It was only a matter of time until they would wake up and notice her absence. They would go looking for her. She had to get the snatchers to leave this forest, and they would only do so if it seemed there was nothing here for them. After all, it certainly looked like she was alone.

Her muscles were shaking as she ran. Her long hair had come loose and was streaming behind her.

A quick mental inventory reminded her that she still had her bag, although most of its contents were back in the tent. It held a few useful things - mostly medical supplies, random camping gear, books, a blanket and one measly hammock. Thank God she had her wand.

Another peek over her shoulder told her they were gaining. She picked up speed, her lungs burning and her eyes tearing up. The stitch in her side was screaming with pain. There was really no other choice, was there?

I can't believe I'm going to be separated from them. After all this. How could I be so stupid?

Up ahead, she caught a flicker of movement, and realized that the snatchers were surrounding her. A hex whizzed by her ear, barely missing her. It was now or never.

I'm so sorry Harry, Ron.

With a sudden stop, a choked sob and a quick turn of her feet, she was gone.

She reappeared in another forest at nightfall, swallowing a shaky cry and clutching her side. It was done. They were on their own now, unless she could find a way back to them before they ran for it. She didn't dare go back anytime soon with that many snatchers keeping a look out for her.