After what felt like an eternity spent alone in the dark, cold basement, Hermione shivered, the chill seeping into her very bones. Clamped tightly around her wrists was a glimmering silver chain, a cruel reminder of her captivity.
She struggled against it, but the cold metal sapped her strength, rendering her powerless and unable to access the magic that usually surged within her. As she swallowed hard, her throat burned with a desperate thirst, a sensation that felt amplified in her dire situation. How could she possibly quench her thirst when she was trapped here, with no hope of escape in sight?
Before she could lose herself in despair, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching, the echo of shoes clicking against the cold stone floor.
