Hermione watched for only a moment before she ended the spell and turned to run as the burning Dementors dropped screaming from the glowing sky.
She made it a dozen yards when something tackled her to the ground. She kicked herself free and snarled a curse before the attacking vampire managed to bite her. It collapsed to the ground as she scrambled up.
She was halfway to her feet when a hag suddenly leapt toward her face. Hermione threw herself to the side, casting a disembowelment hex as she did so. The field was filling with dark creatures. An army of them had descended on her while she'd been trying to escape the Dementors.
She paused until they were close and then slammed her wand into the ground, liquefying the earth around herself and watching as hags, vampires, and werewolves were swallowed by it. Before they could swim to the surface, she cancelled the curse and flung herself toward the edge of the wards again.
Someone struck her from behind. She went flying and twisted, rolling, catching herself and then finding her feet, using the last bit of momentum to help her regain her balance. She cast a bombarda maxima without looking to see who she was attacking.
A young werewolf looked down and found himself with his stomach blown open. He dropped to the ground. With his lycanthropy, he would probably manage survive. She sent several rapid slicing hexes at the throats of hags and werewolves that had gotten too close.
As she was turning to run again—
Her wand was wrenched away as the force of the spell flung her backwards. She landed heavily, and her head clipped a stone. Her vision swam, and black spots flashed in front of her eyes as she dazedly pushed herself up and looked in the direction her wand had gone.
Graham Montague was standing fifteen feet away, staring at her. Her wand in his hand.
“Today is my day, I'll say. It feels like only yesterday I saw you,” he said, smiling. His expression was gloating and intensely unnerving. “I didn't expect to find you this quick.”
He gestured towards the smoking ruins of the lab and the burning Dementors still falling from the sky. “Manage all this by yourself?”
Hermione didn't move; her eyes were fastened on her wand.
“Fuck. I bet I'll get my Mark for bagging you.” He looked back at her and then grinned as he gripped her wand in both hands and snapped it in half.
She stared in horror.
Without a wand, she couldn't apparate.
“Come on,” Montague pointed his wand at her and beckoned towards himself. The dark beings were gathered around him. “Don't make this any harder for yourself. Come here, Mudblood.”
Hermione's eyes swept across the field as she tried to calculate what to do.
She slumped, curling her shoulders submissively inwards as she slipped a knife out of the inner pocket of her cloak.
She walked hesitantly towards Montague and all the dark beings flanking him. A werewolf stepped forwards and started to seize her arm.
Hermione struck.
Her knife flashed. She cut off the hand and gutted the werewolf.
She'd healed enough hag injuries to know exactly what knife wounds couldn't be fixed.
She dropped as a curse came streaking towards her, lunging for Montague. He was the closest person with a wand in his hand.
A hag leapt for her throat, and Hermione spun and buried her knife in its throat, before rushing towards Montague again.
Montague's eyes widened in fear, and he tried to curse her. He was a far slower duelist than Draco. Sloppy and imprecise. She dodged the first curse. And the second. A purple curse clipped her cloak and caught her in the stomach. She kept moving towards him until he fell back, tripping as he tried to get away from her.
Flipping the knife in her hand, she flung it at him, aiming for the center of his chest.
He cast a shield, but the magical blade sliced through it and sank to the hilt in his left shoulder. She'd barely missed his heart.
Hermione pulled out her second knife.
His expression grew terrified.
Nothing.
The red curse missed her. He cast again.
As she buried her knife between his ribs, he jabbed her in the throat with his wand.
Her hold on the knife loosened, and she dropped to the ground, screaming. Her hands spasmed, and she writhed. The agony tore through every nerve. Her throat was being ripped apart. Her nerves mangled and flayed. The taste of blood filled her mouth. Pain. Nothing but utter pain.
Finally, it stopped.
Hermione forced her eyes open and watched Montague drop to his knees, bleeding heavily from his side and shoulder. He appeared to be on the verge of passing out. His wand was dangling loosely from his fingers.
Hermione sobbed and gasped through her teeth as she shakily tried to roll over.
Her muscles twitching and contracting as she dragged herself up.
“You fucking bitch…
She woke to screaming.