Drip. Drip. Drip....the steady sound of dripping water echoed through the darkness. The sounds of rattling chains filled her ears once she tried moving. Hermione opened her eyes finally and looked around. She was in a dark and cold cell with walls that seemed to close in on her, inch by inch. A weak groan escaped her extremely dry and cracked lips as she adjusted on the stone floor. Her body ached as did her head. Where was she? How did she get here?
The memories of her being grabbed in the woods and Ron and Harry running after her rushed through her mind. The blurring images made her head feel as if she was smacked with a hammer. Muffled voices came from outside the door of her cell. She quickly scrabbled for her wand but found it was missing. Her wand was like an extension of her arm. An extension of her soul.
The door opened and a flash of blond stepped inside. For a horrific second she thought it was Draco, the holder of her heart, but upon examination the man was older. Draco's father. Lucius Malfoy stood in front of her looking down upon Hermione like she was dirt.
"Filthy mudblood in my home." He snarled "you would be dead and thrown in the rubbish if not for your knowledge of potters location." His voice was cold, like hell frozen over. Nothing like his warm hearted sons. Draco! Where was he?!? Did he know she was here? He couldn't possibly. If he did she would know.
The door rattled again. A bone chilling rattle of old wood and squeaky iron hinges. "That would be your food. Sadly we must keep you fed" He walked to the door and pulled it open. Another figure stepped in and suddenly there was crash of the tray hitting the ground. Scraps of food scattered on the dirty ground. Hermione looked up at the figure. Her heart stopped. Draco...