They wake Hermione to fear and pain, when they drag her out of sleep and her cell, and she is aware of very little as they drag a bag over her head and take her...somewhere else. The floor cold under her stumbling, dragging feet as she is hauled along blindly, loud, cruel voices, rough hands on her arms and her hair, pain blooming sharp and bright as they manhandle her without a care. She can't make sense of anything. Dark beneath the bag and her breath makes the air too hot and she feels like she's going to suffocate, and cold floor under her bare feet, and bruising shoves into door frames and walls, and what is going on? They know, she thinks dully, stupidly. They know. Terror shoots through her muddled mind in sharp, cold spears. What are they going to do? She doesn't want to die. She doesn't want them to hurt her. Terror cuts at her. Her breath comes too-fast in sobs.