Hermione sat up abruptly at the sound of her name. How did the woman know who she was? She hadn't spoken a single word since she was arrested in the hotel lobby and she made certain that anything she kept in her bag that could potentially identify her was hidden. Fear coursed through every vein in her body. When she'd told herself that it didn't matter if she was caught or not, she had been very, very wrong. It did matter. Who was there to pick her up? What home was she being returned to? None of the potential answers to her questions were the least bit comforting.