Stuck in Place

by KemAjiana


A/n: So, this is a first for me. I've always contemplated doing a HP fanfiction, but always felt sort of like I didn't know enough to do so. But, I'm going to give her a shot! So, here's my first ever! Enjoy!


Hermione flung a jinx towards an oncoming Death Eater as he hurled himself to the right, back to back with Ron as he blocked a curse with a hiss. She murmured soft encouragement to him as Harry tossed aside his opponent with a grunt, joining them.

"Hello, Minister!" bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse, who dropped his wandand clawed at the front of his robes, apparently an awful discomfort. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"You're joking, Perce!" shouted Fred as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate stunning spells. Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee.

"You actually are joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were -"

Hermione felt a sting of a curse hit her cheek, and she dropped her wand from the pain of it at the same time the air exploded. They had been grouped together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured; and in the fragment of a moment when danger seemed temporarily at bay, the world was rent apart. Hermione flew through the air, her strangely tingling body slamming into Fred, throwing them both clear of the debris that showered down where he had been standing. They let out a sharp yell of pain as her rapidly shrinking body hit the ground and rolled, sending her tumbling over and over, until she came to rest beside the crumpled forms of Percy and Harry.

Cold air filled the room, signaling that the side of the castle had been blown away, and blood trickled down her cheek where the curse that struck her before the explosion.

As Hermione struggled to gain her bearing, she saw three red-headed men grouped around a fallen body laid out upon the ground. When she had been thrown into Fred, it seemed, she had knocked away his only shield from the wall.

Percy.

"No - no!" someone was crying out. "No! Percy! No!"

Hermione tried to stand, not quite grasping why she could not rise above knee-level. She staggered, shaking her head to clear the strange cloudiness from her mind, when suddenly she caught sight of Rookwood raising his wand towards the grouped redheads. She gave a strange, guttural snarl and launched herself forward without thinking. Sharp teeth bit into his forearm, and he cried out as blood filled her mouth, shaking his arm to try and free himself of this small creature that had seized him. He dropped his wand, raising his fist to strike her, when a shout rose up.

"Incarcerous!" roared George. Ropes wound themselves up the Death Eater's body, and he dropped with a shout and a thud while Hermione danced away on strangely nimble feet.

Harry dropped to his knees, arms outstretched, as he called out to her. "'Mione?" She nodded her head rapidly up and down, throwing herself forward. Harry hugged her tightly. "Where's your wand gotten to?" she gave a strange shrug and a shake of her head. Where was her wand?

Surely buried under the debris...she shuddered. It was likely snapped and completely useless. She turned to see George towering above her, wand pointed straight at her, and stiffened, lips curling back to reveal thin, sharp canines as her neck fur bristled.

"Revelio." They waited...nothing. With a frown, George tried again, more forcefully. "Revelio."

"Relashio," tried Fred. This time, a sharp stinging filled Hermione and she gave a long, low whine to voice her displeasure. Fred immediately let up, sharing a frown with George. "What d'ya reckon is wrong with her Georgie?"

"No telling, Freddie." He cast a glance behind him. "Come on. We should...take him down to the Great Hall." He paused, sucking in a breath. "Maybe Pomfrey'll get 'Mione back to rights again, as well."


Three months later found Hermione pacing wildly about in the backyard below the window sill, her long reddish tail whooshing in agitation. She didn't dare make a peep and let on that she could overhear the Weasley's, contenting herself to eavesdropping like the fox she was.

Pomfrey and St. Mungo's had both been a flop. Three days of being crammed in a room and being subjected to pokes and prods and all different spells the nurses could think of...and nothing to show for it! There she still was; trapped in a body that didn't belong to her.

"The curse on the arm was inflicted with dark magic," a nurse had explained to a distraught Molly. "It counteracted with the transfiguration jinx she was hit with. It should fade off in time, but for now, there's nothing to do..."

Ron had been livid, Harry concerned, and her parents...well. Her parents remained under the influence of her memory charm, with no one the wiser. She supposed that was a good thing; there wasn't much they could do for their daughter anyway. Best to be kept in the dark for the meantime.

Molly had offered her home to her, explaining that there was plenty of room for her to run about and do whatever she wished. Hermione felt oddly out of place, more than ever. Whereas before, she could help about the house - cook, clean, de-gnome the garden - now she was stuck to chasing squirrels to keep from going insane.

Not long after her release from Mungo's, Harry and Ron had been offered positions as Aurors, and they'd leaped at the chance to continue what they knew best: fight dark wizards. Fred and George had gone back to their business almost immediately; Bill had gone home with Fleur; Charlie had returned to his love of dragons; even Ginny had gone back to school at the start of term.

Everyone had something to do post-war...except Hermione.

So, she took to wandering the fields behind the Burrow, chasing rabbits and reveling in the strange prowess of her small, lithe body, all the while praying that today would be the day her strange curse lifted. And every day, she was disappointed further.

"I'm just saying Arthur," Molly was sighing. "I need to get away. Breathe. I can't breathe here."

Arthur was soothing his wife softly. "Mollywobbles, I know. It's hard on me, too. I'll talk to the Ministry. See if I can't take a week or two off. We'll go and see your sister. How does that sound?"

Molly was crying, Hermione realized, and her hear twisted painfully. "Arthur, we can't," she insisted. "Hermione needs us, the poor girl. She has nowhere else to go."

A long silence stretched out, and Hermione felt herself shrink in desperation. She felt so helpless! Briefly, she wondered what mouse would taste like, but the idea made her stomach churn, and set that thought aside. Was there anything she could do?

"Molly. There's no guarantee that the curse will lift," Arthur soothed. "We cannot care for her forever. I will talk to the children. One of them is bound to be able to watch over her for a week."