A/N: Hello everyone. This is a prologue to a new very dark Tomione story. It is inspired by the first chapter of Brianna Hale's 'Midnight Hunter', which is a very good cinematic book that I recommend for you to read.
I am also looking for beta-reader to help me with this story, as I am not good with my tenses and grammar, and I need someone to bounce idea with and help me get out of the hole when I get stuck on plots or flow of the story or even sentence. I generally need a lot of help :)
If you are interested PM me directly. Thank you and please read and review.
Hermione desperately tried moved faster through the Muggle quarter. The more distance she put between her and the Death Eaters the better. If Grindelwald secret army caught her, death would be a more preferable option.
But after an hour of running, adrenaline that had been fueling her had finally settled down.
She's starting to feel the icy cold wind of the winter night penetrating through her thin oversize coat. The wound from the hex had been bleeding through the makeshift bandage she tied around her calf. Pretty soon she would leave a trail of blood that will directly lead to her. It wouldn't have been a problem under the cover of night with only magical candles lighting the street. But, the white snow that covered the road make it very easy to spot red blood on it. And she's starting to limp from the injury. If a Death Eater found her now, she wouldn't be able to escape from them.
She needs to hide.
But surrounded by the depilated buildings of the Muggle quarter outside Knockturn Alley, she felt hopelessness washing all over her.
There was no place to hide.
A sob escaped from her lips. The futility of her action is finally dawning on her.
Having live in the area for her whole life, she knew no family would ever risk their lives protecting a runner. And the building were built so close to each other that there were no nooks and cranies she could slip into.
She would either die discovered by a Death Eater or because or bled out on the street because her wound wouldn't close.
A loud meow interrupted her fatalistic thought. Out of the corner of her eye she saw an orange cat disappearing through behind a stack of woodcrates that covered the very narrow alleyway.
Hope rose through her body like a warm fire.
She couldn't fit through the alley but she could stack the woodcrates around her and wait for the morning to come. It would be easier to disappear with the morning crowd than to stand around in the dark like a sitting duck. She could disappear through the countryside and maybe then she could escape to one of the small island in Greece or made her way to Asia where Grindelwald's iron grip are not as strong.
But, as she started move the woodcrates around, a bright light in the sky caught her eye.
The Dark Mark.
The symbol of death.
The Deatheaters are near.
Fear shot through her like a bullet. Her heart pounded madly and all she could hear was blood rushing through her ears.
Panicked, she quickly barricaded herself behind the woodcrates. She prayed to whomever is listening to keep her safe from the monsters till' morning.
She didn't have to wait long. Her breath hitched when she heard several loud cracks of Apparition from a near distance.
'This is it.' She thought to herself as she tried to calm herself down as not to give away her position. She took several quiet gulps of air to slow down her labored breath. It would be very tragic to go this far only to be caught because she breathed too loudly.
She wished she could see where they were as the darkness and the crates were covering her view of the street. But she couldn't risk moving the crates.
"Search out within 3 km, they couldn't have gotten far."
His voice crisp and clear. Deep and commanding.
It had sent shiver down her spine.
She recognised that voice.
The leader of the Deatheaters.
Grindelwald's right hand man.
The dark Lord of Death.
She is fucked.