Hermione wasn’t frightened, not truly, but worry had begun to poison her mind so much that even as she stepped down onto the cold marble below her cage, she tensed. Her mind filled with doubts, wonder at the stiffness of Bellatrix’s movements behind her, a thin stretch of her mind envisioning someone appearing from the shadows at her side with accusations of her escaping. Her trips outside these bars had all been few and far between, and only at the behest of the Dark Lord, never with Bellatrix alone.