The guards where ruthless, but kept on a short leash by the grand overseer who balanced punishment and lack of it to achieve maximum productivity… for whatever reason this whole operation even existed.
According to one grey-bearded wizard left to rot in a cage within the ear-reach of Hermione's very own barred dwelling, the crystals they mined here contained some kind of magical power. Hermione wasn't sure about that, though she didn't dismiss the old man as crazy like everyone else.
All she was sure of is that this labour camp where Voldemort's army had brought them quickly replaced any preceding reality. Former associations became mere memories, useless like piles of junk seeping trough a very small drain. It'd all be gone in time, though time certainly couldn't bring back the world Hermione once knew. There was no future now, she thought, but since the body doesn't perish with disbelief in such notions she'd have to cope with whatever remained. Day by day Hermione chipped away at her time, working diligently as it was required to scrap any matter from this unyielding sort of crystal. There was no sense in keeping track of days that flowed in an endless stream, almost undisturbed by the unnecessary separations of night and day.
But however unlikely, there comes a time when things change regardless of volition. Thus today was different, because Hermione did happen upon a familiar face at last and not because she gazed up hoping to see one. She bumped into a scrawny figure as she made her way trough the scattered tools left behind by the previous shift. So when she looked up, Hermione thought she saw Parkinson. She wasn't sure, might have been a lot thinner, worn-out looking version of her… or completely someone else. Hermione hadn't the confidence to bet on her assumption so they passed each other by in silence.
Moments later, as if by some untold agreement, they gravitated towards the same spot, so when Pansy planted her feet to work on her cluster, Hermione had to glance her way with an enquiring expression.
"Granger?" Pansy whispered gazing back.
There was no doubt now, but Hermione was still considering her response. When she was captured, she wasn't sure they figured out her real identity, and revealing this now could prove to be a disadvantage.
"Granger? I thought that was you… Don't you remember me?" Pansy whispered more loudly.
"Keep quiet! You want everyone to hear!?" Hermione whispered. "I know you Parkinson, so what?" She said before bringing her pick down in a spirited swing.
"Nothing, I'm just glad to see someone from Hogwarts… even though it's not whom I would have picked."
"Likewise Parkinson." Hermione retorted with a smirk. She found the old rivalry reminiscent and such honestly amusing, though certainly out of place here. "So why are you here? I thought you'd be on the other side of that fence."
"Long story…" Pansy replied briefly and turned away clearly indicating she wouldn't say any more.
They continued working in silence until Hermione noticed that Parkinson was very ill-fitted for this task. "You haven't done this before?" She asked.
"Is it that obvious?" Pansy sighed wiping her sweaty brow.
Hermione reluctantly took a handful of her own chippings and threw it under Pansy's cluster. "Here, just pace yourself."
Pansy turned to look at her former schoolmate wide-eyed and thanked her much louder than she intended.
One of the guards happened to overhear the exchange. "Number 572!" The masked figure approached referring to the number sawn on the back of Hermione's grey outfit.
Hermione turned around to see that it was the bulky and particularly sadistic guard. She was sure he was smiling under that horrible Death Eater mask.
Hermione dropped down on her face even before the Death Eater hit her with the Cruciatus curse. This way at least he wouldn't get to see the painful grimace on her face.
"Each one does their own work!" The Death Eater shouted for all others to heed before finally lifting the curse.
Pansy would say something if it didn't get stuck in her throat. It wouldn't help anyway, she figured, and even worse… she might get the same treatment.
"Yes, sir." Hermione gritted trough her teeth once she was able to stand again.
Somewhat satisfied, the guard left while Hermione bit the inside of her lip and shot a scornful glare at Parkinson.
Pansy got a good sense of this place now. She made no more attempts at conversing with anyone for the rest of the day, but even though she was too fearful to express it, she did appreciate Hermione's gesture.
Not long after her arrival Pansy was given the task of distributing food rations, partly because she was still too weak to do anything else, but she also managed to cultivate a trustworthy image in this relatively short time. She observed, planed and slowly brought confidants into her venture.
One evening she brought a bowl to Hermione's cage and put an extra scoop of beans and rice.
Hermione gave her a nod before she dug in. It never took her long to finish her meals, but when she did Parkinson was still there watching her. "What?" Hermione asked wiping her mouth with a dirty sleeve.
"Come closer." Pansy whispered. "Listen Granger, I have a plan to…" She looked around. "…to get out of here."
"Escape?" Hermione smirked. "You're delusional, nobody's gotten out."
"I appreciate what you did when I arrived. And I imagine you can fight better than almost anyone in here, that's why I decided to include you…"
"I see… you want me to clear a path so you can stroll out of here?"
"No, I…" Pansy protested.
"No thanks!" Hermione cut her off. "It won't work anyway."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Listen, I've been here a lot longer. You've basically just arrived and yet you think you know everything?" Hermione argued.
"I'm very observant!" Pansy retorted. "And…" She paused clutching at the bars of Hermione's cage while looking down on the dirt floor. "…I don't know about you, but I've got nothing to lose."
"The answer is still no." Hermione said decisively.
"Fine, then stay here then, since you like it so damn much! Being caged like an animal and worked to death is not for me!" Pansy said whispering angrily before she went off to carry out the rest of her duties. She knew she couldn't look back, lest she'd reveal some self-doubt which was now plastered all across Hermione's face.
Hermione was aware what the mind favours to imagine and what sort of outcome was more probable, but it was a sweet dream to fall asleep to, and she did awake willing to bet her life on that unflinching expression of her former schoolmate.
Pansy figured Granger would refuse at first, and exactly how the rest of it would play out. She set the bait and waited. She planed things out ahead, though she hadn't the natural sense to adapt when things got off track. That's why, hopefully, someone like Granger will be there. Pansy remembered noticing this trait in her back at school, that and her infuriating habit to do things by the book. Perhaps that has changed, now that the book has been ripped to shreds and tossed aside by Voldemort.
On Pansy's next food run they spoke of the plan again. In fact it was Granger who instigated the conversation.
A week later all of the involved managed to scurry away to hold a secret gathering of sorts. Besides the two Hogwarts rivals, there was also a young Ilvermorny wizard and his parents who where willing to take the risk for a chance at freedom.
"I may not look like much, but I'm still very nimble. I used to be a dancer." The young wizard's mother explained.
"And I was an Auror before the war." The father proudly added.
"Before?! And not during?" Hermione enquired with a frown.
There was no response, only a shameful gaze downwards. "When it all started... I had to take care of my family, so..." The wizard tried to explain.
"Spare me the sob story!" Hermione snapped. She was willing to leave now, but Pansy leaned over and whispered something in her ear that swayed her back on track.