imprisonment

Chapter 7; H

It was two days after her outburst when Hermione decided to put her plan in motion. She had spent the past couple of days planning and practicing how she would act towards him. She figured she would start with simply pretending to be interested in what he had to say. Draco was easier than he seemed, and she knew it. All she had to do was feed into his ego and he would be vulnerable.

"Hey Malfoy," She called through the vent in a sing-song voice.

"Yes?" He said confused at her unprecedented kindness.

"I realized I hardly know anything about you, and if we are going to be here a while I figured I should." She told him, hoping he would take the bait.

"What do you fancy to know Granger," Draco said. Hermione paused and tried to think to herself. What could she ask him? It had to be something that would flatter him, but nothing too deep that would cause an argument. It had to be something shallow, something that would boost his ego.

"Well, I always noticed you were quite good at quidditch, how come I stopped seeing you at the games? It was always a joy to watch." Hermione tried her best to sound interested. It was difficult, but she managed. She waited for a response.

"Ah, you see, I was the best on the team. I'm sure we would have won more games if Potter hadn't cheated all the time. I had to quit because I became a prefect and didn't have the time for childish games anymore." Draco spoke through the vent. He bought it. It was laughable how much he would talk about himself if the right words were said.

"I forgot you were a prefect. How admirable, balancing that with grades. It was always difficult competing with you for the top spot in class," she lied through her teeth. Beating him in class rank was the easiest thing she had done in her years at Hogwarts.

"I suppose I might have let you win, it's only the gentleman thing to do," he boasted. She knew damn well he hadn't let her win. They both knew it. This was simple pleasantries. She noted that he must have his own game to play. Draco Malfoy was not nice unless he wanted something.

"How generous of you," Hermione said in a coy voice. She decided to play his game, and he decided to play hers.

It was a game of cat and mouse. A game of manipulation with careful moves and tactics. It was a game of chess, each move more viable than the next. It was a question of how to play the game if the other was aware. They both knew the other wanted something, they just didn't know what. So for a moment, they played the game, they let the cat chase the mouse. But was it really a game if the mouse knew it was being chased and the cat knew the mouse was in on it?

"Maybe it would be more productive if we worked together," he said in a calculated voice. Hermione saw right through him. She didn't know what he wanted from her. What she did know was that he wouldn't get it without her getting something in return.

"That would be more practical wouldn't it," she responded.

Hermione sat next to the vent making sure to be three steps ahead of him. This whole conversation she had guided to reach this point. She toyed with and lead him to come to that revelation.

The next thing she knew she had to do was gain his trust. She needed to make herself someone that he utilized in order for survival. She needed to make herself someone he clung to. She had studied many books on what deprivation does to a person.

Isolation from others damages you in ways unimaginable, it peels parts of you away with every passing day. If the dementors didn't drive him insane then the loneliness would. Hermione would make small talk every so often, and then when he reached his breaking point she would be there to swoop in and save him. After months of not seeing or touching another person, he wouldn't be able to refuse her advances.

All she had to do to make her plan work was time, calculated moves, and a way to get through the cell when he reaches his breaking point. She figured she would spend the following days finding a way through the wall, that way she would be ready when the time came.

***

Days passed filled with Hermione picking at the stones in the walls looking for a loose one. She tried using all her force to hit the wall between them, but nothing budged either. It was impenetrable. She thought for a second and looked to the metal bed and got an idea.

She walked over to the bed and put her fingers under it. She tried to lift it up and surprisingly it wasn't bolted to the ground. She hoisted it up and lifted it with all the strength she could manage. She leaned it against her shoulder and faced the wall. Her hands moved to the top of the slab pushing as hard as she could. The bed fell from her shoulder into the wall with a crash. Nothing happened.

She hoisted the bed up once again to try and launch it at the wall a second time. This time she pushed it even harder and it landed on the wall with a thud. She did this over and over again until she was too tired to continue.

She hauled the bed back to its original position and sat on it panting for air. The days she spent in this cell had deteriorated her physical strength and the meals she was given weren't nutritious at all. It was all perfectly executed. She was meant to die here or lose her sanity, whichever came first. And it would be a slow spiral at that.

A chill went down her spine. At first, it was barely noticeable, she figured it was from sitting on the cold metal. She pulled her arms around her body and ignored it. She glanced around the room and noticed the mirror fogging up and she was confused. She stood up and slowly walked over to the mirror, pressing her hand to the glass. It was cold to her touch.

Oh no, she thought to herself.

Her heart started racing and she backed into the corner of the room. She tried to prepare herself for what was about to happen. She'd seen Harry encounter dementors before and it wasn't pretty, but he had survived. That's the only thing that mattered in this place: survival, no matter the costs.

The door slammed open and the cloaked figure moved towards her at a deathly slow pace. She squeezed her eyes shut and prepared herself for what was to come. She let out a small yelp and allowed it to take her.

She writhed in pain. Her mind felt like it was being scrambled into mush. It felt worse than the cruciatus curse Bellatrix performed on her. Her body felt cold and she was unable to move. It was as if all the hope she had remaining drained from her body and she was left with despair.

But then it faded, and she felt a warmth wash over her body. She opened her eyes slowly to see if the coast was clear, and what she saw took her breath away.

The smell of old book pages filled her nostrils. There were shelves full of books and chairs to sit at. Light filled the room and left shadows dancing on the floor. She spun around to take the room in. She was in the Hogwarts library. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't imagining it.

For a moment she forgot she was imprisoned. She forgot about the vent in the wall, the cold room, the boy who lived next door. All of it escaped her mind.

She ran to the shelves to open a book. She ran her fingers across the spines and grabbed the first one that caught her eye. She didn't care what it was about; she hadn't touched a book in what felt like years.

She didn't know if she had died and this was her mind showing her a happy place before she moved on. Frankly, she didn't care. She soaked in the warmth of the room and the ambiance of the library. She held the book to her chest and sat at the closet table she could find. She opened the book and lifted it to her nose taking the smell in. She felt at peace and never wanted to leave.

It felt like time didn't pass here. She sat at the desk for what could have been hours or seconds and enjoyed every moment she could get. She felt free. She wasn't bound to the square room she had spent weeks in. There was no war, no death, just peace.

When she was done, she walked through the shelves of books enjoying the view. She walked through all the rows of books just enjoying the view. In the distance, she heard a noise caused by books falling down. She peered through the shelves and saw something ginger scurrying around. She moved from where she was standing and walked towards the noise.

Her heart rate sped up. A tear escaped from her eyes at what she saw. It was Crookshanks. She ran to him and held him in her arms feeling the fur against her cheek. Hermione had missed him more than anything and clung to him. She lowered herself down to sit on the ground and he laid next to her.

Her eyes began to feel heavy and she closed them, letting herself fall asleep in the stacks of books. Finally content.

A/N
What do you guys think happened? I'd love to hear your theories. I've been trying to update every two days so you guys should expect another chapter by Dec. 7th.
-Alex