As her hands closed around his throat, Hermione realised that she had run straight towards him. His nails tore at the back of her knuckles, but she only squeezed harder. She was screaming, but the words fell from her lips and disappeared into the roaring wind before they could make it to her own ears. His guttural pleas for mercy vibrated beneath her palms, and Hermione thought she might implode from the euphoria as it coursed through her veins. 