Chapter 3
Hermione massaged her sore arms as the heavy dungeon door closed. The all- stone room was chillier than the rest of the castle, and the only light came from a torch in the corner. She was relieved to find that she wasn't going to be chained to anything, but it was just a small relief after what had just happened. Everyone in the school, it seemed, had somehow heard the rumors of Hermione's murdering streak.
Embarrassment was still coursing through her, but it wasn't from the other students whispering about her in the corridors. Hermione had grown increasingly used to people saying bad things about her over the years. It also wasn't from the snide comments flowing from Filch. She had learned to ignore everything he said.
No, the worst part was when they walked by the Great Hall. A group of Ravenclaw first years sitting near the door had been crouched in a huddle, but Hermione could hear their loud whispers.
"You do it!"
"No way! It was your idea."
"Come on! Get her back for what she did. I dare you. I'm serious, you won't get in trouble. You should have heard what the teachers were saying about her. Heck, I bet they would want to do it."
"Okay, fine. Give it here."
Before she knew it, a glob of pudding landed in Hermione's hair.
"That's for Harry!" Someone yelled heatedly. She couldn't wipe the blob away because her arms were still pinned behind her back, so it just slowly dribbled down her forehead and into one of her eyes. She asked the guard to stop because it started stinging like mad, but he just ignored her. Filch showed no sympathy either, but that was no big surprise.
After she was shut in the dungeon and her arms were freed, Hermione dared to touch the sticky mess of hair in order to survey the damage. It was pretty disgusting. Her eyelashes were sticking together, but she did manage to get most of it out.
She began to pace back and forth in the tiny room. The most terrible thing about the dungeon was that there was nothing to distract her from her own awful thoughts.
'Even the teachers all think that I'm guilty.'
She counted her steps. The room was five paces wide and six paces deep.
'Where is Ron? Doesn't he care about me?'
If she walked diagonally across the room, she could take 7 steps.
'Will Josh remember to ask his brother?'
Diagonally is spelled almost exactly like "Diagon Alley"
'And if he does, will his brother believe him?'
Hermione sank to the floor and rubbed her pulsing temples, trying to massage away her pounding headache. She didn't want to think. for what seemed like the first time in her life, Hermione didn't want to sit and contemplate the workings of the world around her. For the first time she didn't want to question the actions of others. She just wanted to wake up from the terrible nightmare that had become her life.
She began to shiver in her thin hospital wing pajamas. Sitting on the cold stone floor seemed to rob the heat from her body faster than a freezing spell. Hermione stood up, folded her arms across her chest, and walked some more.
Hours passed. She stayed standing until her legs got too tired to hold her up anymore. She knew it was 9:00 pm when the torch in the corner dimmed to half intensity. All the torches in the school corridors dimmed at the same time.
Hermione's stomach grumbled miserably. She hadn't eaten all day, but it wasn't until she was by herself when she started to feel the pangs of hunger that had previously been covered up with grief.
Then, she heard footsteps outside of her cell. She stood up on aching legs and trotted to the door, then stood on her tiptoes to try and see out of the barred opening, which was a little above her head.
Hermione saw the top of a man's head go by. She could tell by its greasy quality that it was Professor Snape.
She ran her fingers through her hair, forgetting that it was doused in a sticky mess. She wiped her hands on the pants of her pajamas. The footsteps were nearing the end of the corridor, and Hermione didn't know what to do. she was going to ask whoever it was for something to eat, but since it was Snape.
Her stomach growled again and her decision was made.
"Wait!" she called, poking one of her hands through the bars so Snape would know where she was. "Professor Snape, wait!" She waved her hand back and forth.
The footsteps stopped. Hermione feared that he would just walk away, and when the clunk of his footsteps continued, she thought that he did. Surprisingly, though, they were getting louder. She stopped waving her hand, and withdrew it back into her cell.
"Is that you in there, Granger?" his oily voice questioned.
"Yes, sir. I've been in here for hours, and I haven't had anything to eat."
There was a pause. "So?"
"So. I'm really hungry, and I'm afraid they've forgotten about me."
"You think it's a mistake that they haven't fed you?" Hermione could tell by the cruel amusement in his voice that Snape obviously didn't think it was an accident.
"They're. they're not going to starve me are they?" Hermione voiced her terrified thoughts without seriously thinking about who she was talking to.
Snape didn't say anything and he began to walk away.
"Wait!" Hermione yelled, sticking her hand through the bars and waving it desperately. "Wait, please!" The footsteps reached the end of the corridor, and faded away. Hermione sunk to the ground again, grunting angrily. 'Snape's just scaring me' she decided. 'Dumbledore would never.' but then she remembered. Dumbledore wasn't on her side anymore.
But he wouldn't starve a student, would he? He probably wouldn't even starve Voldemort if he had the chance.
Even so, Hermione decided it was time to begin planning a way to escape, when there was a soft knock at the door.
"Miss Hermione, yes?" A high-pitched voice, almost as soft as the knock, met Hermione's ears. It was a house elf.
"Yes?" She answered cautiously.
There was a popping noise, and Dobby the house elf appeared holding a covered tray over his head. A guard was standing outside.
"Don't take too long, elf," he said bitterly.
Dobby stuck his tongue out at the door, then turned back to Hermione. "Dobby was hearing that you is hungry, Miss!" Dobby ran over to Hermione as fast as his little legs could go. He lifted the lid and brandished the plate of chicken and potatoes in front of her, and set it on the floor along with a cup of water. Hermione's thoughts of starvation quickly drifted away.
"Dobby!" Hermione smiled and stared at the plate of food. "Thank you so much."
'See,' she told herself, 'Dumbledore wouldn't starve a student.'
She started eating the chicken with her bare hands. "I hope you don't mind me being a little rude," she said through a full mouth. "I haven't eaten all day."
"Oh, Dobby isn't caring about manners now." His face became downcast. "Dobby listened to his master talk outside of the kitchens. Dobby heard what happened to his Harry Potter." Large tears began to swell in Dobby's huge eyes. "He. he."
Hermione swallowed her food, waiting for Dobby to accuse her of murder, but he did no such thing. Instead, he offered her a napkin.
"Um, Dobby," Hermione said, wiping her hands, "you know why I'm down here, don't you?"
"Of course," he said. "Professor Snape told Dobby everything."
Hermione groaned inwardly. Of all people to tell the house elves what had happened. Snape probably made her out to be a monster or a backstabber (probably both). He might have even added his own personal lies into the mix of rumors.
"What exactly did Professor Snape tell the house elves?" Hermione asked, almost hesitantly.
"Oh." Dobby turned his head, his ears flopping around loosely, making sure that nobody could hear him. "Professor Snape didn't tell all house elves."
"He didn't?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
Dobby shook his head. "He tells it only to Dobby. He says nobody else is to know that I is giving you such good food. Professor Snape tells Dobby to give you good food. Master Dumbledore thinks you is doing bad things, and he tells Dobby to give Miss Hermione only bread and cheese and no more glasses to break. But Dobby is disobeying." Dobby looked very concerned at himself for not listening to Dumbledore.
"Wait," Hermione said, trying to piece everything together. "You heard Professor Dumbledore telling somebody that I killed Harry, and that I was only allowed to eat bread and cheese." Dobby nodded his head. "But Professor Snape came later," Hermione continued, "and told you to feed me this good food?" Dobby nodded again.
"Why would he do something like that?" Hermione asked.
"Because," Dobby whispered with wide eyes, "he told Dobby that he knows you haven't killed Harry Potter."
Hermione massaged her sore arms as the heavy dungeon door closed. The all- stone room was chillier than the rest of the castle, and the only light came from a torch in the corner. She was relieved to find that she wasn't going to be chained to anything, but it was just a small relief after what had just happened. Everyone in the school, it seemed, had somehow heard the rumors of Hermione's murdering streak.
Embarrassment was still coursing through her, but it wasn't from the other students whispering about her in the corridors. Hermione had grown increasingly used to people saying bad things about her over the years. It also wasn't from the snide comments flowing from Filch. She had learned to ignore everything he said.
No, the worst part was when they walked by the Great Hall. A group of Ravenclaw first years sitting near the door had been crouched in a huddle, but Hermione could hear their loud whispers.
"You do it!"
"No way! It was your idea."
"Come on! Get her back for what she did. I dare you. I'm serious, you won't get in trouble. You should have heard what the teachers were saying about her. Heck, I bet they would want to do it."
"Okay, fine. Give it here."
Before she knew it, a glob of pudding landed in Hermione's hair.
"That's for Harry!" Someone yelled heatedly. She couldn't wipe the blob away because her arms were still pinned behind her back, so it just slowly dribbled down her forehead and into one of her eyes. She asked the guard to stop because it started stinging like mad, but he just ignored her. Filch showed no sympathy either, but that was no big surprise.
After she was shut in the dungeon and her arms were freed, Hermione dared to touch the sticky mess of hair in order to survey the damage. It was pretty disgusting. Her eyelashes were sticking together, but she did manage to get most of it out.
She began to pace back and forth in the tiny room. The most terrible thing about the dungeon was that there was nothing to distract her from her own awful thoughts.
'Even the teachers all think that I'm guilty.'
She counted her steps. The room was five paces wide and six paces deep.
'Where is Ron? Doesn't he care about me?'
If she walked diagonally across the room, she could take 7 steps.
'Will Josh remember to ask his brother?'
Diagonally is spelled almost exactly like "Diagon Alley"
'And if he does, will his brother believe him?'
Hermione sank to the floor and rubbed her pulsing temples, trying to massage away her pounding headache. She didn't want to think. for what seemed like the first time in her life, Hermione didn't want to sit and contemplate the workings of the world around her. For the first time she didn't want to question the actions of others. She just wanted to wake up from the terrible nightmare that had become her life.
She began to shiver in her thin hospital wing pajamas. Sitting on the cold stone floor seemed to rob the heat from her body faster than a freezing spell. Hermione stood up, folded her arms across her chest, and walked some more.
Hours passed. She stayed standing until her legs got too tired to hold her up anymore. She knew it was 9:00 pm when the torch in the corner dimmed to half intensity. All the torches in the school corridors dimmed at the same time.
Hermione's stomach grumbled miserably. She hadn't eaten all day, but it wasn't until she was by herself when she started to feel the pangs of hunger that had previously been covered up with grief.
Then, she heard footsteps outside of her cell. She stood up on aching legs and trotted to the door, then stood on her tiptoes to try and see out of the barred opening, which was a little above her head.
Hermione saw the top of a man's head go by. She could tell by its greasy quality that it was Professor Snape.
She ran her fingers through her hair, forgetting that it was doused in a sticky mess. She wiped her hands on the pants of her pajamas. The footsteps were nearing the end of the corridor, and Hermione didn't know what to do. she was going to ask whoever it was for something to eat, but since it was Snape.
Her stomach growled again and her decision was made.
"Wait!" she called, poking one of her hands through the bars so Snape would know where she was. "Professor Snape, wait!" She waved her hand back and forth.
The footsteps stopped. Hermione feared that he would just walk away, and when the clunk of his footsteps continued, she thought that he did. Surprisingly, though, they were getting louder. She stopped waving her hand, and withdrew it back into her cell.
"Is that you in there, Granger?" his oily voice questioned.
"Yes, sir. I've been in here for hours, and I haven't had anything to eat."
There was a pause. "So?"
"So. I'm really hungry, and I'm afraid they've forgotten about me."
"You think it's a mistake that they haven't fed you?" Hermione could tell by the cruel amusement in his voice that Snape obviously didn't think it was an accident.
"They're. they're not going to starve me are they?" Hermione voiced her terrified thoughts without seriously thinking about who she was talking to.
Snape didn't say anything and he began to walk away.
"Wait!" Hermione yelled, sticking her hand through the bars and waving it desperately. "Wait, please!" The footsteps reached the end of the corridor, and faded away. Hermione sunk to the ground again, grunting angrily. 'Snape's just scaring me' she decided. 'Dumbledore would never.' but then she remembered. Dumbledore wasn't on her side anymore.
But he wouldn't starve a student, would he? He probably wouldn't even starve Voldemort if he had the chance.
Even so, Hermione decided it was time to begin planning a way to escape, when there was a soft knock at the door.
"Miss Hermione, yes?" A high-pitched voice, almost as soft as the knock, met Hermione's ears. It was a house elf.
"Yes?" She answered cautiously.
There was a popping noise, and Dobby the house elf appeared holding a covered tray over his head. A guard was standing outside.
"Don't take too long, elf," he said bitterly.
Dobby stuck his tongue out at the door, then turned back to Hermione. "Dobby was hearing that you is hungry, Miss!" Dobby ran over to Hermione as fast as his little legs could go. He lifted the lid and brandished the plate of chicken and potatoes in front of her, and set it on the floor along with a cup of water. Hermione's thoughts of starvation quickly drifted away.
"Dobby!" Hermione smiled and stared at the plate of food. "Thank you so much."
'See,' she told herself, 'Dumbledore wouldn't starve a student.'
She started eating the chicken with her bare hands. "I hope you don't mind me being a little rude," she said through a full mouth. "I haven't eaten all day."
"Oh, Dobby isn't caring about manners now." His face became downcast. "Dobby listened to his master talk outside of the kitchens. Dobby heard what happened to his Harry Potter." Large tears began to swell in Dobby's huge eyes. "He. he."
Hermione swallowed her food, waiting for Dobby to accuse her of murder, but he did no such thing. Instead, he offered her a napkin.
"Um, Dobby," Hermione said, wiping her hands, "you know why I'm down here, don't you?"
"Of course," he said. "Professor Snape told Dobby everything."
Hermione groaned inwardly. Of all people to tell the house elves what had happened. Snape probably made her out to be a monster or a backstabber (probably both). He might have even added his own personal lies into the mix of rumors.
"What exactly did Professor Snape tell the house elves?" Hermione asked, almost hesitantly.
"Oh." Dobby turned his head, his ears flopping around loosely, making sure that nobody could hear him. "Professor Snape didn't tell all house elves."
"He didn't?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
Dobby shook his head. "He tells it only to Dobby. He says nobody else is to know that I is giving you such good food. Professor Snape tells Dobby to give you good food. Master Dumbledore thinks you is doing bad things, and he tells Dobby to give Miss Hermione only bread and cheese and no more glasses to break. But Dobby is disobeying." Dobby looked very concerned at himself for not listening to Dumbledore.
"Wait," Hermione said, trying to piece everything together. "You heard Professor Dumbledore telling somebody that I killed Harry, and that I was only allowed to eat bread and cheese." Dobby nodded his head. "But Professor Snape came later," Hermione continued, "and told you to feed me this good food?" Dobby nodded again.
"Why would he do something like that?" Hermione asked.
"Because," Dobby whispered with wide eyes, "he told Dobby that he knows you haven't killed Harry Potter."