imprisonment

Chapter 9; H

Hermione groaned as she peeled her body off of the cold hard ground. She could feel her head pounding and her body was so sore she could barely move. She was no longer in the library, but back on the floor of her cell.

It was too good to be true.

It must have been a dream.

There was no escape to this hell, and she knew that. It was foolish of her to think that there was. Her only way out was through him, making it extremely important that she followed through with her plan.

"Malfoy, what happened to me?" she called through the vent hoping that he knew something about her attack.

"You've been out for a few days," he told her. She groaned to herself.

Her lips were so dry they had started to crack, and her stomach ached in hunger. She tried to pull herself up in order to make it to the sink and failed. Her legs weren't strong enough to stand so she lifted herself up by her elbows and began to drag herself across the gravel floor. When she got in front of the sink, she lifted her hand up to the sink, turned the faucet on, and cupped water into her hands.

She brought the water to her face, trying to drink as much as she could manage. She coughed several times and tried to take a deep breath. She was already weak and the attack has just made it worse on her.

"How are you feeling," He asked through the wall. She was not in the mood for his bullshit today. She knew it was all an act. He was up to something and she knew it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Hermione said to him. She did not have the strength to pretend to be nice to him. She could follow through with her plan when she started to feel better again.

"I don't know why I bother being nice to you Granger," he said letting the facade drop. Even he was too tired to fake it anymore.

"Me either," she retorted back.

He didn't say anything back thankfully, so she decided to try and discover the mystery that was the Hogwarts library. Dementors are supposed to take away all of your good memories and replace them with the bad ones. So why had she been brought to a place so peaceful? It could have been her own mind trying to protect her, but she doubted that.

She tried to think back on books she had read in the past and came to a blank. She had never heard of anyone seeing a good memory when being attacked by dementors. The only way to overcome them was by using a Patronus and she obviously hadn't cast one.

Hermione was frustrated with her lack of knowledge of the situation. She had no leads or any idea of why she saw the library.

Her head pounded making it even worse. Her hair was matted and stuck to her neck, she was covered in dirt, and felt disgusting.

As much as she tried to keep her composure, all she wanted to do was cry. She missed being held in her mother's arms when she was younger. She missed being innocent and knowing a world without death from the war.

It was hopeless. Everyone was dead or captured. She had no idea if the order even existed anymore. The years they spent trying to win the war were all for nothing; they had lost. Harry was dead and she was stuck in Azkaban unable to do anything useful. She was isolated from society and had no idea what was going on in the outside world.

She cried out, struggling to breathe. She was breaking inside. She could barely stand because her legs were like jelly. She was malnourished,
magic-less and weak. Hermione was not the lively girl she once was anymore. She was a shell of her old self.

"Time to shower," the guard said causing her head to shoot up. She hadn't even heard the door open.

"No, I can't- I can't get up," she said weakly. She had been in the middle of a panic attack when he walked in. She couldn't even stand, how was she supposed to make the long walk to the showers.