            At first, she had thrown whatever energy she had left to calling for help. For her lawyer, which Proudfoot mentioned but seemed to have forgotten. But no one answered, and no one came. On the third day, she poured her strength into escaping, but the cell had rendered her magic-less, and she found no means of digging, clawing, or picking her way free. On the fourth day, Hermione had resigned herself to logic-through the possibilities of her detainment and future trial. It had kept her occupied ever since. Only sleep dragged her mind away from its incessant buzzing, replacing her thoughts with nightmares, and the memories that were just as painful.