Chapter 2
Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.
-Ray Bradbury, writer (1920-2012)
"How the hell did you get in here?" She half-shouted, muffled by the hand still clamped to her face.
"You'll keep quiet, Granger, if you know what your life's worth." The woman hovering above her in the darkness muttered. "We don't have long so you'll shut that gobby little mouth of yours."
The dark haired, dark eyed woman glanced across at the others, one hovering by the door, evidently keeping watch. The remaining two lingered close by, as if to be close at hand should a situation arise.
Hermione's eyes flitted between them, anxious to gain some kind of understanding on what was happening.
"Understand?" The apparent leader of the group stressed, emphasising her point by pressing her hand harder to Hermione's mouth, effectively cutting off her air supply. Unsure of what to do, she merely nodded in response.
"Good."
A noise down the hallway caused all of them to freeze, Hermione included. She could at the very least comprehend that this was not a good thing, and getting caught in the middle, in whatever capacity, would not benefit anyone.
No footsteps or subsequent sounds followed, and the women visibly relaxed.
"Alright." The dark haired woman turned back to her. "Granger. We know what you are."
"Know what I am? How can you possibly…"
"I believe I suggested you shut the fuck up." She leaned in, threateningly. Hermione quietened immediately. "I said we know what you are. We just don't know who you are. You're one of us, we know that much. But we can't say why you're here; the same way that none of us really knows how we ended up in this place. With me so far?"
Hermione nodded again, afraid to speak.
"Good. I know you don't want to be here, believe me, none of us do. But by Salazar we're going to find a way out. Now Blondie here noticed that you had a moment back in the Activities room the other day. All wide eyed, like you were trying to remember."
She looked up at the blonde woman who had caught her gaze, her silver eyes once again bulging slightly, as if imploring her to comprehend.
"As much as you want to, you must not try. Hey, I'm talking to you." Hermione found herself slapped around the cheek, bringing her attention back to the brunette. "At least not around the Sisters. Comb through what little memories you have all you like on your own, but not around them. They will know. And it will be passed on. Do you understand?"
Hermione could do nothing but glance between the women focussing their attention on her.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, I think so."
"I knew you would. Now we can't tell you much more right now, that bitch will be on her way back soon and we cannot be caught. We are laying plans Granger. And we will need you when the time comes."
"Time." The slight woman by the door murmured, the light from the crack in the door catching against her auburn hair as she turned her head.
"Shit. Let's move. Granger, mark my words. Stay low. And don't show a thing."
The women moved out silently, their bare feet hardly touching the floor.
And Hermione was alone again, in her room, unsure of what had just happened.
Unsure if it had just happened.
"Checks."
Hermione awoke the next morning after a restless night's sleep. Words, unfamiliar voices and strange dark eyes echoed around her thoughts, refusing to make sense or align.
"Good morning Hermione, it's Garden Time today. Do you think you'd like to go out and enjoy the fresh air?" Helen called gently, another sister Hermione was coming to recognise. She was unsure whether this was a good thing or not, becoming familiar with people she should not be around long enough to be able to identify.
"Perhaps."
"I think it will do you good. I'll put your name down on the list."
Hermione sighed. This was becoming a habit since the Matron had physically removed her from her self-imposed cell. All the Sisters were beginning to feel as though they could force her to endure things she had no intentions of suffering through.
She emerged from the cramped room soon after, heading down to the Dining Hall for a predictably bland breakfast. She scanned the room as she entered, noticing the four women from the previous night studiously looking elsewhere. Only the blonde girl glanced her way once again, momentarily locking their eyes, before moving on to examine the wall much as before.
After collecting a tray of food, Hermione took a place at the far end of one of the two long tables that stretched out across the dining room. A gaggle of vacant-eyed women barely showed any sign of noticing she was there, two of them continued to drool onto the trays before them whilst the others shovelled food into their mouths, intermittently muttering to themselves and each other.
Hermione looked down at the colourless, tasteless substance in front of here. She had thought her taste buds would get used to the complete lack of flavour after forcing these rations down her throat, day-in, day-out. But no. Much like everything else in this place she merely continued to endure.
Shifting the mess around her plate a little more and attempting to swallow whatever blandness they'd concocted this time, she moved her attention to the room around her.
She had studied these walls every meal-time since she'd been admitted. The far wall consisted of 1, 387 bricks in total, not including those behind the bland art pasted up in an attempt to brighten the place up. The cream paint that had been spread across another was peeling in 12 places, and the door looked to have been recently replaced for it didn't quite fit the frame it sat in.
The long tables took her attention today, with the groups spread out between and the few loners like herself having a fair amount of space between. The Chinese girl sat across the way from her was moving her food about her plate in a similar fashion, letting out occasional sighs and gazing into the distance. A single tear occasionally escaped her wet lashes, but this was nothing new. Her black hair was cut in a jagged fashion, as though she'd gone at it with a pair of gardening shears, and though it looked as though it had once been glossy and healthy, it now had a dullness to it that Hermione was fairly certain the girl couldn't care less about.
She couldn't recall the girl's name, but Hermione guessed she was perhaps a year or two older than herself. Her gaunt face and sallow eyes held shadows of a former fullness, perhaps in the girl's healthier days. She wondered what turn of events led her to be here.
As Hermione's gaze wandered across the room once more, she was struck but a sudden pulling at her memory. She couldn't place where, but she remembered tables similar to this. Many happy, smiling faces gathered around long wooden tables that were almost creaking under the weight of so much glorious food.
"Four", she murmured, "I remember four tables."
As she pulled herself out of her reverie, her eyes were instantly drawn the dark haired woman, leader of the pack that had crept in to her room that night. As she shook her head, determined eyes imploring her not to show a sign, Hermione gave a swift nod of understanding.
She wasn't sure if she believed this woman yet, but she thought it perhaps best not to argue and simply play along for now.
A/N: Shorter update, but I hope to have Chapter 3 up tomorrow or Sunday.
Thank you very much for reviews so far, it's always great to know what people are thinking. Let me know your opinions on this latest offering. It can only improve the story.
SimpsonSortia