Hermione grunted as she felt the dark witch's fingers squeeze tightly at her wrist, sharp nails pricking her skin. But she walked silently, with no objections other than a slow pace, since anything Bellatrix could do with her hand she could do twenty times worse with the crooked wand whose tip was pushed right into her back. Her eyes began to dart around, seeking an opening, an opportunity somewhere - anywhere! But there was nothing, Knockturn Alley held no love and fewer allies for the brilliant young witch, who squirmed and tried to twist around in Bellatrix's grasp as she was marched down empty side streets, toward a small door at the end of a dank little alleyway between two boarded shops. The door looked hundreds of years old, and it creaked as it slowly swung open on its iron hinges.<br/><br/>Hermione seemed to find new spirit once those slender fingers started to make their way under her cloak, feeling around her mature young body until Bellatrix came upon the only thing she had left to defend herself with - her wand. Just like that, it was snatched out from her robes, and she stumbled forward into the room. She knew appearances could be deceiving, but after being shoved in and getting a look around, the room certainly looked bare. At the very least, there was no other way in or out except through Bellatrix Lestrange.<br/><br/>Helpless and trapped, Hermione simply glared back at the dark witch. Her mind still raced for possibilities, for some kind of an out, for something, anything. But she could feel the fear creeping in too. She could feel the blade of the knife in her arm like it was still fresh, etching the word "mudblood" into her skin all over again. Bellatrix's terribly gleeful grin and her so-called "good mood" told Hermione that something was very wrong - more so than usual with Bellatrix. She knew that asking this question would probably be foolish, but fear and morbid curiosity had gotten the better of her. "What are you going to do to me?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>