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The Cartel want anonymity. Maybe I should make a scene, then? Scream for help… make up a story about a lost child, or something… No. It would put every passerby at risk. Muggles against wizards, they'd stand no chance.

She'd come to a larger street, filled with more throngs, more street vendors – the Plateia Avyssinias, if the guide books she'd perused had been right. She made another attempt to Disapparate, again without success. The crowds here seemed to include more foreign tourists: at any rate, the locals appeared to be catering to them, with more signs in Roman letters, and what appeared to be actors or dancers performing on a low stage. The audience were taking photographs of them.

Their cameras had electronic flashes…

Even as the idea formed in her mind, Hermione was making for the crowd near the stage, surreptitiously drawing her wand. She tried to concentrate on a happy thought – hard to do when one is running for one's life! – and waited until the dancers had completed a particularly involved routine. Waited for the applause. Waited for photos to be taken.

The moment the flashes began, she whipped her wand downward. "Under attack. Can't Apparate. Come at once," she recited in her mind, and "Expecto Patronum!" from her lips. The tiny silver streak sped from her wand to the ground, lost amidst the bursts of electronic light, and zipped away, hugging the street.

It was an advantage her attackers didn't know she had. Using Patronuses as messengers had been a closely guarded secret of the Order of the Phoenix; except perhaps for Shacklebolt's lynx appearing at Bill and Fleur's wedding, all those years ago, only a select few had ever seen the method in use, much less knew it existed. Certainly Hermione had never advertised her ability to use it. Her attackers thought they'd isolated her. They were wrong.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6471922/37/