It was on one of those quiet days in mid-January that Hermione found herself heading for Theo's study. He had a beautiful leather couch that was perfect for late day couch-naps and a first edition illustrated copy of Hogwarts: A History that she wanted to get her hands on (a desire that was so foreign she jumped at it as soon as it was felt). Her focus was single minded (needed to be in order to get from one room to another without falling over her useless feet) and that was how she missed it. The feeling along the skin, the shiver in the bones that came with proximity to something dangerous, deadly. The knife was at her throat the moment she was through the door. She froze, long buried instincts coming to life. With a quiet breath, she swept her eyes around the dimly lit room once, noting that the only thing out of place was the leather couch she had been thinking of. It was now sitting with its back to the fireplace, facing outwards into the room. There was an almost unnatural darkness near Theo's desk, just to the right of the leather couch now. She recognized Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder at work, although she was heavily confused about its presence. What needed to be hidden when the knife wielder was standing right behind her? The person at her back was taller than she was (not a hardship) and was dressed in something stiff that pressed uncomfortably into Hermione's back. Leathers, by the smell of it. The knife at her throat was pressed in firmly, though not hard enough to slice through skin. She knew that could change in an instant. In any other setting, in any other body, she would have done what she could to overpower whoever the hell was at her back. But right now, with her laughably weak limbs and woefully undertrained body, she couldn't risk it. She'd be dead in a moment. She had to stall. Wait. Theo or, most likely Blaise, would come look for her eventually.