Hermione felt the urge to laugh. Practicing magic without wands in a space between the real and the imaginary, outside the realm of the physical world, devoid of their bodies... all they had done was practice hatred. Nothing more. She couldn’t protest any longer, though, because a cool female voice echoed in her cell. It reminded her of the disembodied voice in the lifts of the Ministry of Magic, what felt like countless lifetimes ago. 