The cruel glint of the shears made short work of previously luscious locks of hair. She heard confirmation from the owner of the oversized scissors that no contraband has been found in the mangled mane of hair fallen into a messy mound on the ground. Before she had the opportunity to vocalise her feelings, the leader has produced a muzzle gag from the remaining tangle of metal accoutrements, silencing her utterly. Hermione was already trussed up so efficiently her mind can’t imagine the purpose of the remaining items. The snatchers had shared out the items amongst themselves, but she resolved herself to resist (as best she can) even against these most unfavourable odds.