Witch Hunt

Disclaimer: Not mine

School was over. Hermione sat in her room, surrounded by schoolbooks, wearing Hogwarts robes. Although she was home, she still felt home sick. Home sick for Hogwarts. About a week after she had returned, she donned her black robes and pulled out a Charms textbook.

Tenderly, she remembered one of her first Charms lessons while she was not friends with Harry and Ron. She already missed her school friends. Both had rented a flat in Scotland, and although they offered Hermione a position as the 3rd person in the flat, she politely refused, opting to spend time with her parents a bit more, before getting a job and moving out. Still, she was awfully worried about both of them.

Voldemort had still not been defeated, and Harry had to be the one to do it. Or the other way around, although that would bring much unpleasantness for the rest of the wizarding world. Thinking of Voldemort brought a shock of panic to Hermione. Quickly, she reached for her golden pocket watch. It had three names written on the arrows, respectively. Harry, Hermione, and Ron. It worked much like the clock at the Weasley’s house. It was a present from Hermione to the boys on Christmas day of last year. To always know how they were.

Checking that they were both safe, Hermione turned around and climbed onto her bed, wishing she could visit her best friends. But, unfortunately, their fireplace was not connected. She would have to wait an entire week to see them again, after they hooked up their fireplace to the network.

While thinking, sleep soon took over, and Hermione fell into a blissful rest, without worries of Voldemort, or her exam results, or even her never ending crush on Ron.

The thing she feared most woke Hermione’s idyllic nap. A terrifying, ear piercing shriek, followed by a piece of glass breaking. Grabbing her wand, the newly certified witch ran downstairs to protect whatever danger faced her family.

As she ran down the stairs, Hermione saw a figured covered in a black robe and hood, face enclosed by a terrifying mask.

‘Ms. Granger, so pleased you could be with us,’ the young wizard said. His calm voice was betrayed by the slight tremble in his wand arm, which was pointed strait at her parents. Both mother and father were standing, backs against the wall, waiting for something to happen.

‘The pleasure is all mine, could you please explain why you are here, Mr—?’ Hermione let her question trail off. Hoping that the young deatheater would answer both of them. Hermione took pleasure in his slight shake, she was the smartest witch in Hogwarts, of course he was afraid of her.

‘Please, mudblood,’ The man said, sounding exasperated, ‘drop the act, you and I both know why I’m-’

His sentence was cut off but the chime of their grandfather clock. It was noon. The new wizard, already quite nervous, quickly turned and accidentally blasted the clock into pieces. Hermione took her chance, she pointed her wand at the intrusive man and blew him out the door. A new rage took over. How dare her come here and scare her, her parents, she was even angry that he had destroyed her grandfather clock. Something that had been in her family for ages.

Wand out, Hermione approached the deatheater on his back in the middle of the muggle street. Neighbors had stepped outside, frantic eyes trying to figure out what was going on. She didn’t even notice. Anger poured through her veins.

‘How dare you?’ She screeched. ‘He sent you, you thought that you could overpower me?’ Hermione threw the man back another 10 feet; he landed painfully on his back again.

A panic rose. Women screamed. How could a mere girl throw a man 10 feet without even being close to him? Looking at her wand, the connections were made.

‘WITCH,’ someone in the crowd yelled. ‘GET HER.’

Before Hermione could realize it, she was attacked. About 5 muggle men grabbed her, wand snatched out of her hand. Kicking, screaming, struggling.

Far away, she heard her parents screaming. Suddenly, her arms and legs were being held, another muggle came out, pistol in hand. It was pointed strait at Hermione’s head.

‘Witch,’ he whispered, ‘Say goodbye.’

TBC?