Hermione ran as far as she could before she felt a stitch in her side. Satisfied she could no longer the looming island home that would ensure death if she did not pull out on top, she stopped to look through the contents of her bag again. A t-shirt, beige combats, a map with a blueprint of their home, two gallons of water, but no food. Hermione's fingers curled into the grass and soil beneath her. Bastard probably doesn't think I'll go long without him capturing me. Hermione glanced between the contents. She was hesitant to cast Finite on it, in the event that they had been transfigured from something else and she couldn't transfigure it back with her tampered wand.