Disclaimer: I do not (even though I pretend to ) own Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Albus Dumbledore, Hermione's parents, Victor Krum, etc. I also don't own the wonderful song by the wonderful Daniel Jones and Darren Hayes.
I DO on the other hand own the old woman at the hotel, Sophie and Ryan ( ^_^ YAY!!!!)
Well hello everybody. I have decided to give my first fic, Too Late, a rest while my mind-block clears but I thought I owe you something in the meantime so here's my first songfic. I didn't know what area to put it under, it's probably not dramatic enough to be a drama and it is pretty deep so what do you think? It's one of my favourite songs called Two Beds and a Coffee Machine by Savage Garden. I probably suck at songfics ( like I suck at summaries ) but you can tell me your opinion soooooooooo...............
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lotty ^_^
x x x
After holding her head tensely to the door, Hermione listened intently a second time to make sure no sound was heard. She pushed the door handle down carefully and peeked through the narrow crack to see that all was still.
The moonlight streamed through the window and silhouetted a muscular, burley figure sprawled over the couch to her left. Dozens of empty beer cans littered the room and tiny fragments of broken glass were scattered in clusters, glittering like stars in the bright moonlight.
Her shoes crunched lightly and she froze to check the man was motionless. The terrified Brunette lifted up a small, wooden coffee table and set it the right way up. She widened her fearful eyes as Victor Krum, ex-Quidditch player shifted his position.
And she takes another step,
Slowly she opens the door,
Check that he is sleeping,
Pick up all the broken glass and furniture on the floor,
Been up half the night screaming now it's time to get away,
Pack up the kids in the car,
Another bruise to try and hide,
Another alibi to write...
He had proposed to her three years ago and they now had a talented two year old son, Ryan and a beautiful baby daughter, Sophie who was seven months old.
But after loosing his place in Quidditch for suspected drugs, Krum had turned to drinking. He was unemployed, a wreck and took to beating his wife every night.
As soon as she had moved to Bulgaria with Krum, she had drifted apart from Harry, Ron and her other friends and family back home.
She now had no friends and was all alone.
Carefully lifting the baby basket so as not to wake Sophie, Hermione quietly lifted Ryan into her arms as well; his small, sleeping figure was propped on her hip as she her her sore arm around his waist. She quietly lifted the latch and slipped outside their shadowed house.
Another ditch in the road,
You keep moving,
Another stop sign,
You keep moving,
And the years go by so fast,
Wonder how I ever made it through...
She just had to get away from that place. For her sake and for her children's.
Her left arm throbbed as she sped out of the driveway in her car. Where to go? No idea. She knew nobody and her Bulgarian was bad so no-one could help her.
She just kept driving, her mind flicking through possibilities, each one as absurd as the next.
And there are children to think of,
Baby's asleep in the backseat,
Wonder how they'll ever make it through this living nightmare,
But the mind is an amazing thing,
Full of candy dreams and new toys and another cheap hotel,
Two beds and a coffee machine,
But there are groceries to buy,
And she knows she'll have to go home...
The beatings had progressed in intensity steadily. The first strike was quite strong, because of Krum's strength as a Quidditch player.
No-one knew the goings-on behind the thick walls of the Krum residence. No-one was allowed to know. It was like all contact had been cut off in that house.
Another ditch in the road,
You keep moving,
Another stop sign,
You keep moving on,
And the years go by so fast,
Wonder how I ever made it through...
The only solution that came to Hermione's head was to go back to her home, her real one, where her mother and father were.
Harry, Ron, Ginny, Dumbledore, they might forgive her, help her maybe. Yes, she could go there in the morning. It was too dangerous to apparate such a long journey with the children.
It was the only reasonable idea she had left.
Another bruise to try and hide,
Another alibi to write,
Another lonely highway in the black of night,
But there's hope in the darkness,
You know you're going to make it...
For the present, the petite woman thought, she should have to stop in a hotel for the night.
With the pounding in her head and the gash stinging under her sleeve, she stopped outside the nearest hotel. She looked up at the sign that was gibberish to her sight as it was all in Bulgarian. To her knowledge, she recognised enough to understand 'vacancies.'
Carrying Sophie and Ryan inside the shabby, old-fashioned doors, she rested them against the counter and rang the bell. While waiting, her eyes drifted across blue, seventies wallpaper and a bamboo chair, padded with a foul, green and brown floral design. A sweet, stale stench lingered in the air and Hermione screwed up her nose.
An old, tired-looking woman with dark-grey, crinkled eyes came to the desk and Hermione asked the first thing that seemed vital to this situation,
"Do you speak English?" she questioned, a hint of desperation in her voice.
"Yes, how may I help you?"
"I need a room for the night, how much is your cheapest?"
"Ten Galleons, is that OK?"
"Yes, thankyou." She handed over the money.
"Vot vill you be needing?"
"Nothing much just...............
Another ditch in the road,
Keep moving,
Another stop sign,
You keep moving on,
And the years go by so fast,
Silent fortress built to last,
Wonder how I ever made it.
....................two beds and a coffee machine," she finished softly.
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Well? Whadda ya think??!??!!?!!??!?!!?!!? Come on, tell me!!!!!!
OK, c ya then,
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lotty ^_^
x x x