Even though everyday she was met with the same blank faces of the prison guards, the same denials to meet her loved one, the same refusals to let her speak to higher-ups, Hermione still visited Azkaban every day. A whole week full of disappointment and resentment passed this way. Hermione tried out everything, she wanted nothing more but to at least catch a glimpse of Draco and see how he was bearing his new existence. She knew he was strong and resilient, she had so much faith in him, and she believed he was going to be alright no matter what, but she still worried excessively. Was he eating well? Where was he sleeping? If the Dementors no longer guarded Azkaban, what were the new guards like? Were they treating Draco well? Was he being interrogated by Aurors? Was he being forced to tell them all that happened? There were more questions than answers, and Hermione couldn’t bear to be with those dark thoughts any longer.