After parting ways with Tom, Hermione hurried to catch up with the Weasley family's retreat team and entered the forest with them. Once inside the forest, everyone involuntarily stopped and looked back. From their perspective, the situation was still worsening, and there was no sign of hope.
A layer of sadness covered Hermione's heart.
It was the first time her parents had attended a major event in the wizarding world, and they had just encountered this anti-Muggle demonstration. What could be said about it? She feared that after tonight, her parents' impression of the wizarding world would be extremely negative. Hermione felt pessimistic.
How would Tom be right now? Her thoughts couldn't help but fly to her boyfriend. He must be fighting the protesters, right? Hermione admired Tom's bravery. She knew he was a hero, but she wished he were by her side at that moment.
She wished her Patronus could watch over him. Hermione prayed to all the entities she could remember, begging for Tom to return safely.
The little lamps on the path to the stadium had gone out. The whole forest was dark, filled with people running around like headless flies. Children's cries and adult screams echoed in the night sky, generating great anxiety.
Hermione felt herself being pushed and shoved, slowly moving her away from Harry, Ron, and the others. Fortunately, she was still close to her parents.
She dared not imagine what would happen if her Muggle parents were separated at this critical moment.
George, who was behind Hermione, suddenly stamped his foot hard, followed by a familiar cry of pain.
"Draco, if you put your foot in the way, don't blame others for stepping on it," George said coldly.
Seeing that something had happened, Hermione and the Granger couple stopped.
"Lumos," Hermione cast a lighting spell, illuminating the narrow path, and then she saw a familiar face.
It was Draco Malfoy.
He was leaning against a tree, his face twisted in pain. It was clear that George's foot had come down hard.
After gasping several times, Malfoy recovered and stared at George and Hermione for a while, but in the end, he didn't ask more about the stepped-on foot.
"If I were you, I'd run as fast as possible. If they find you, there will be a mess," Malfoy muttered to Hermione, then pointed toward the chaotic camp. "They're looking for Muggles, and there are three here. Granger, don't you like showing your underwear in public?"
"Hermione is a witch!" George said angrily.
Malfoy shrugged. "May Merlin bless you for wearing shorts."
"I'll pass on that message to Yodel," George growled in a cold tone, making it clear that Malfoy still had much to fear.
George's words were so intimidating that Malfoy instantly fell silent.
"I was just trying to warn you, but you didn't care. By the way, why don't I see Yodel?"
"Tom is much stronger than you," Hermione suddenly spoke, rapidly firing her words like a burst of shots. "He's at the camp right now, along with the Department of Magical Security, capturing those hooded figures and ripping off their masks. I'm sure the faces under those masks are very interesting!"
Just as the three of them were having a heated debate, a sudden red light interrupted their words. Although it was a dark night, half of the sky suddenly turned red, and in the distance, a dazzling red streak appeared, as if a fire-breathing dragon were flying on the horizon.
"I mean, the camp seems to be quite 'hot' now. Do you like your meat medium rare or well done? If it's well done, it'll be too tough," Malfoy said with a mocking smile.
Just as Hermione and the others were gazing at the fire-lit sky, Harry was facing the biggest crisis of his life.
He and his good friend Ron were running at full speed, when suddenly Ron slipped and fell to the ground.
"Ron, are you okay?" Harry helped his friend, but it was as if Ron had been hit by something and was unconscious.
At that moment, a black rope flew out from among the nearby bushes and wrapped around Harry's ankle, violently pulling him into the bushes.
"Help—" Harry tried to attract the attention of people nearby, but just as he opened his mouth, the black rope covered his mouth, silencing his cry for help.
Everything around him was dark, and amid the chaos and noise, who would notice that he had been kidnapped?
The person tying up Harry clearly didn't pay much attention to his condition. They allowed his body to be dragged through the mud, with stones, branches, and grass hitting his face, leaving him in a sorry state. Harry felt at least two cuts on his face, with dirt in his hair, and he didn't know where his glasses were.
Harry felt himself being dragged by the black rope for a good distance, away from the path and into the forest. The sounds of the crowd grew fainter and fainter until they became barely audible, plunging him into complete silence.
At that moment, Harry began to calm down. He began to ponder who might have kidnapped him and for what purpose. Firstly, he ruled out the option of a ransom, as he had not displayed wealth on his way and his spending had been normal. If it were a money-related kidnapping, then Tom would have been kidnapped instead.
After ruling out that option, the answer was obvious. He had been kidnapped by Voldemort's followers, the same ones who were in the march. First, they had created a big fuss with the march to attract the attention of the Ministry of Magic and the Weasley family, and then they had followed him to find the opportunity to kidnap him. And their goal... surely, it was to exact revenge on Voldemort.
Just as Harry believed he had figured out the truth, the person holding him with the rope stopped. Harry raised his head and looked around, realizing he had been taken to a tree.
The rope suddenly tightened, binding Harry to the tree. Unfortunately, due to the darkness of the night, Harry couldn't clearly see the face of his kidnapper.
At that moment, the distant sky suddenly turned red, allowing Harry to clearly see the appearance of the person who had kidnapped him: light blond hair and some freckles on the face.
Harry tried to imprint the kidnapper's appearance in his mind.
At that moment, the person pulled out a long, thin, and gleaming knife from their cloak, approached Harry, and muttered, "The blood of an enemy, taken by force, can revive your enemies..."
Upon hearing those words, Harry suddenly realized something. He struggled desperately, but the rope was too tight, and he couldn't move. He felt the knife piercing his forearm, blood welling up and flowing into a glass jar.
Once the jar was filled with blood, the freckled-faced man showed a sinister smile and vanished with a snap.