I was inspired to do this story by a picture, based on a different story,
by shalou14.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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Hermione Annett Granger stared around her dingy cell for what seemed a dozenth time. It was small and dark, with a smell that she couldn't recognise. The stone walls were covered with moss and what looked like blood. The iron bars which stood tall in front of her were rusty and creaked, whenever they were opened. The floor was also stone as well but it looked like the bottom floor's floor because of the dirt and dust. Her dirty, moth-eaten and about to collapse bed was next to her on her left and on her right was a small cupboard where she kept her other set of clothes and all her belongings. She had three windows to see into other cells around her but had a force field on it, which hurt a lot if you touched it.
She, herself, didn't look much better then her cell. Her once, after a long time, tamed hair had become matted with mud and blood after banging her head to many times and fuzzed up yet again. Her skin was a rather nasty shade of white but it was taken unnoticed from all the dirt. She had only two sets of clothes, one to wear to and from the prison and one to wear in the prison. The clothes she wore now was once a pair of slightly baggy, light blue jeans with a creamy white V neck T-shirt and a dark purple jumper for winter. Now they were a pair of three- quarter jeans with rips all over, same as the T-shirt and jumper.
Sometimes she'd forget how she got into the prison and how but then it would always come flooding back to her. She had been 17 when it had happened and had just left Hogwarts. She had had an argument with her boyfriend Harry and left their twin bedroomed flat in Yorkshire. Weeks later she went back to apologise to him about whatever they'd been arguing about only to find him in bed with her best friend Ginny. They had yet another argument and Hermione left again. She went to drown her sorrow in the local pub and someone with black cloak on with its hood up had asked her what was wrong. She had told them for some reason what had happened and hours later she had got her revenge by poisoning Ginny. Weeks later she was being carted of to Askaban for a nine years prison sentence.
It might have been life if she hadn't have been younger then 18. They'd based it on a jealous rage and being on the edge since being sacked by the ministry. When she'd arrived at Askaban, you couldn't of thought of a more frightening place. The stone walls, like in the cells, were also covered in moss and Dementers stood around the island and at all the exits. It had three levels to it and she had been placed on the third. She'd found that the lower to the ground you got, the madder you got. Windows were placed with the same spell but to look out to the outside in cells on the outside. Hermione didn't have you as she was on the inside. As the person across did.
All around her she could hear screams, but she took no notice of them as she had done when she'd first arrived. At that moment a cold feeling ran around her and she realised it was time for her food. S hedged as far as she could from the iron bars when a dementer appeared in front of the bars and opened them. Sucking in its rattling breath, it bent and placed her old, out of date food on the floor. When it had left, Hermione began to eat. Soon, she realised that the prisoner across from her was awake and eating the food that that dementer had left, while watching her with one of his or hers eyes. She had never found out whether it was a man or woman, neither mind who it was, because they always kept their hood up. Sometimes she'd tried to talk to them but whenever she did, they would always turn away or pretend to be doing something else, so she'd keep quiet for most of the time.
Just then all the screaming stopped as a single scream ripped through the prison making Hermione, and the person across, crawl quickly toward the iron bars to have a look. A young woman was being dragged along her level, still standing, towards where Hermione was. The woman's dark, long hair was messed up and her face was red from screaming and crying, as she was doing now. She was doing her best to get from the two dementers, holding her, scaly grip. The dementers reached the cell just before Hermione's and throw the woman and a small suitcase in and left after closing the bars.
In hours the woman's screams of anger descended to sobs of misery, in which Hermione couldn't. That woman had seemed so familiar to her that she needed to talk to her.
Still after days Hermione couldn't manage to get in between the sobs and the screams and still didn't know who the person across from her was. She'd been in this prison for 3 years and the person across had come in soon after her. The person that was in the cell before the woman was in, hanged her self with her belt to the iron bars. She'd been increasingly sad and depressed. The woman's name had been Emilia Jones and had come into the prison when she'd been put under the Imperius curse and still been when she was taken to court, landing her in Askaban for life.
It was a year later that the woman next to Hermione finally stopped crying. One day, she was just crying as normal then suddenly she stopped. Completely. Hermione had been so confused that she had slowly stood up and looked through the window into the woman's cell.
When she looked through the window and was surprised by what she saw. The woman was digging inside a dark purple bag, with black flowers all over it. Soon she pulled out a dark blue hairbrush and began to pull it through her hair, which was surprisingly quite straight. Her clothes supported many holes and were quite wet from, presumably, her tears.
Just then the woman looked up and Hermione quickly pulled her face away.
"Who's there?" She shouted. Hermione kept herself from answering by covering her mouth.
"I know your there. Who are you?" Hermione slowly brought her face in front of the window to find herself face-to-face with the woman.
"Umm, Hello. Who are you?" Asked the woman, her hair only half brushed.
"Hermione. Hermione Granger." Hermione answered.
The woman's eyes grew as large as saucers at the sound of her name.
"Hermione.," The woman whispered, then exclaimed,
"Hermione. Hi it's me. Parvati Patil."
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione Annett Granger stared around her dingy cell for what seemed a dozenth time. It was small and dark, with a smell that she couldn't recognise. The stone walls were covered with moss and what looked like blood. The iron bars which stood tall in front of her were rusty and creaked, whenever they were opened. The floor was also stone as well but it looked like the bottom floor's floor because of the dirt and dust. Her dirty, moth-eaten and about to collapse bed was next to her on her left and on her right was a small cupboard where she kept her other set of clothes and all her belongings. She had three windows to see into other cells around her but had a force field on it, which hurt a lot if you touched it.
She, herself, didn't look much better then her cell. Her once, after a long time, tamed hair had become matted with mud and blood after banging her head to many times and fuzzed up yet again. Her skin was a rather nasty shade of white but it was taken unnoticed from all the dirt. She had only two sets of clothes, one to wear to and from the prison and one to wear in the prison. The clothes she wore now was once a pair of slightly baggy, light blue jeans with a creamy white V neck T-shirt and a dark purple jumper for winter. Now they were a pair of three- quarter jeans with rips all over, same as the T-shirt and jumper.
Sometimes she'd forget how she got into the prison and how but then it would always come flooding back to her. She had been 17 when it had happened and had just left Hogwarts. She had had an argument with her boyfriend Harry and left their twin bedroomed flat in Yorkshire. Weeks later she went back to apologise to him about whatever they'd been arguing about only to find him in bed with her best friend Ginny. They had yet another argument and Hermione left again. She went to drown her sorrow in the local pub and someone with black cloak on with its hood up had asked her what was wrong. She had told them for some reason what had happened and hours later she had got her revenge by poisoning Ginny. Weeks later she was being carted of to Askaban for a nine years prison sentence.
It might have been life if she hadn't have been younger then 18. They'd based it on a jealous rage and being on the edge since being sacked by the ministry. When she'd arrived at Askaban, you couldn't of thought of a more frightening place. The stone walls, like in the cells, were also covered in moss and Dementers stood around the island and at all the exits. It had three levels to it and she had been placed on the third. She'd found that the lower to the ground you got, the madder you got. Windows were placed with the same spell but to look out to the outside in cells on the outside. Hermione didn't have you as she was on the inside. As the person across did.
All around her she could hear screams, but she took no notice of them as she had done when she'd first arrived. At that moment a cold feeling ran around her and she realised it was time for her food. S hedged as far as she could from the iron bars when a dementer appeared in front of the bars and opened them. Sucking in its rattling breath, it bent and placed her old, out of date food on the floor. When it had left, Hermione began to eat. Soon, she realised that the prisoner across from her was awake and eating the food that that dementer had left, while watching her with one of his or hers eyes. She had never found out whether it was a man or woman, neither mind who it was, because they always kept their hood up. Sometimes she'd tried to talk to them but whenever she did, they would always turn away or pretend to be doing something else, so she'd keep quiet for most of the time.
Just then all the screaming stopped as a single scream ripped through the prison making Hermione, and the person across, crawl quickly toward the iron bars to have a look. A young woman was being dragged along her level, still standing, towards where Hermione was. The woman's dark, long hair was messed up and her face was red from screaming and crying, as she was doing now. She was doing her best to get from the two dementers, holding her, scaly grip. The dementers reached the cell just before Hermione's and throw the woman and a small suitcase in and left after closing the bars.
In hours the woman's screams of anger descended to sobs of misery, in which Hermione couldn't. That woman had seemed so familiar to her that she needed to talk to her.
Still after days Hermione couldn't manage to get in between the sobs and the screams and still didn't know who the person across from her was. She'd been in this prison for 3 years and the person across had come in soon after her. The person that was in the cell before the woman was in, hanged her self with her belt to the iron bars. She'd been increasingly sad and depressed. The woman's name had been Emilia Jones and had come into the prison when she'd been put under the Imperius curse and still been when she was taken to court, landing her in Askaban for life.
It was a year later that the woman next to Hermione finally stopped crying. One day, she was just crying as normal then suddenly she stopped. Completely. Hermione had been so confused that she had slowly stood up and looked through the window into the woman's cell.
When she looked through the window and was surprised by what she saw. The woman was digging inside a dark purple bag, with black flowers all over it. Soon she pulled out a dark blue hairbrush and began to pull it through her hair, which was surprisingly quite straight. Her clothes supported many holes and were quite wet from, presumably, her tears.
Just then the woman looked up and Hermione quickly pulled her face away.
"Who's there?" She shouted. Hermione kept herself from answering by covering her mouth.
"I know your there. Who are you?" Hermione slowly brought her face in front of the window to find herself face-to-face with the woman.
"Umm, Hello. Who are you?" Asked the woman, her hair only half brushed.
"Hermione. Hermione Granger." Hermione answered.
The woman's eyes grew as large as saucers at the sound of her name.
"Hermione.," The woman whispered, then exclaimed,
"Hermione. Hi it's me. Parvati Patil."