Hermione awoke with her cheek against the ground, bolts of pain zapping behind her eyes and a sore, leaden feeling in her limbs – the aftereffects of a full body-bind curse. She was still naked, curled against the rough, rocky ground of a dark chamber. She brushed crumbled pieces of stone from her arms and torso as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was cold in the cell, freezing in fact. She shivered, looking around for anything to cover herself with, but there was nothing but slimy puddles of stagnant water. She could make out a wooden wall, no –door. It had metal bars near the top, offering four segments of light from a far-away torch. 