"That's right – you fucking well will do what we want, whore," says the biggest of the three, and grabs Hermione by her shirt, hauling her to her feet and backhanding her across the face. Her head snaps to the side and she makes a grunting moan, driven out of her by the blow. Pain sears down her spine – it feels as though it's been snapped. But her fingers are firm around the stone. She is going to die. She knows it. She is going to be beaten and raped to death in a cell in a dungeon somewhere. The man hits her again and her sounds of shock and pain are gasping and choked, wheezing exhalations. The whole left side of her face feels numbed and raw.