The sound of the door to her prison opening should have been a welcome sound, but it wasn't. Somehow she didn't get the impression that the person who was about to enter would be one that she had any desire to see again. Rescue missions were common in stories and movies, not reality. Hermione didn't have the energy to endure another nonsense conversation with the lunatic. Just the thought made her long to pull her blanket over her head to hide. Even the possibility of more food to fill her empty belly didn't make the thought any easier. Besides, he might drug her food again. She would rather starve to death than have to go through potions withdrawals again. They only got worse each time. The next time she feared she would die.