The Dark Lord's Playbook of Nefarious Misdeeds

Runaways

RUNAWAYS

Previously...

Just stay here and don't leave the carriage unless you have no other choice", I nod. I chant to myself as he goes to exit the carriage that I will not be dead weight.

"Out" a voice yells from somewhere. I strain to listen what is going on, but I am not going to be damsel in distress this time.

Then I hear another loud crack and realise the sound is a gunshot.

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Hermione POV

My throat tightens constricting a scream that has bubbled up and threatening to release. I close my eyes a gulp it down, screaming and giving into my terror will not help me think clearly enough to think my way out of this problem. Besides if Tom is still alive out there then it is my turn to return the favour and save his arse. I'm just not sure how I should do that, without magic.

My choice is partially made for me as the door to the carriage is flung open violently, hitting the side with a thud; the hinges protesting vociferously against my eardrums. I had to cringe at the noise, it was like nails on a chalkboard. A burly hand reached in and gripped my upper arm firmly. He dragged me out of the carriage and hauled me to my feet. His hand left my arm and quickly threaded his fingers into my hair. The roots felt like they were being ripped from the sensitive skin straining against my scalp. As he pulled me back against him, I couldn't help noticing the lingering heavy scent of tobacco, it made me want to gag.

I stumbled to keep my footing as he pushed me forward towards the other three men. They were all similarly dressed. Different styles of breeches or jodhpurs at different stages of wear and tear, along with their filthy (what I can imagine was white at some point) linen shirts. They also had great jackets on and black well-worn leather riding boots. These garments were obviously stolen and then worn to death, because clearly these men could not afford such extravagant items. Despite this, they fit the part of bandits in the woods, hijacking as it were unsuspecting carriages passing through.

As we got closer to the three other men, Tobacco, as I will now call him kicked the back of my knees, so I fell rather ungracefully to my knees in the dirt track. I could feel the damp seeping in through the fabric layers of my simple cotton blue Empire dress, through my petticoat and the muslin shift dress underneath. This small annoyance cut through my terror like a hot pallet knife. I tilted my head and glared at the ringleader. You couldn't see his much of his face, he had it covered with a black scarf, tied around the back of his head. With his Bowler hat covering the top of his head you could really only see his eyes. They were an angry brown and he was positioned facing me, but with his arm out pointing a handgun at Tom. They were talking but I wasn't paying attention, too busy assessing the other two men. There was one behind Tom holding a rather large machete to his back who also had his face covered, I couldn't make much more out about him, and the other was looking off in a different direction, probably listening for any other incoming carriages. If it was another time and place, I would have laughed at his attire. Did the guy seriously consider himself a pirate? He had on a black Tricorn (which is the stereotypical pirate hat) and a cutlass strapped to his waist. Every so often when he moved the metal would glint and reflect the small rays of sunlight that found their way past the canopy. That's when I noticed a foot peeking out from behind the tree where he was standing. I squinted to focus. The foot was positioned like the person was lying on their stomach.... I looked around the scene again and realised our coachman was not here...that meant. Oh. That must have been the second gun shot.

I was furious now. The coachman was dead I didn't even want to think about his family. Here we are again, my life at risk again. I was getting sick and tired of this. My Gryffindor stubbornness started to percolate. I raised my head again to tune into what they were saying so I could hopefully formulate a small plan to get away from these buffoons. I finally looked at Tom, he looked fierce and dangerous even without a weapon. Although, I wasn't kidding myself to think that he wasn't carrying something, no way Tom Riddle would ever be caught unawares or unprepared. He was a wall of silence and indifference. However, his gaze upon the ringleader, was worrying. He looked like he was a serpent about to strike and kill him with his bare hands. To everyone else maybe bored...but knowing Tom a little I could see the difference.