Chapter 12
Adrienne soon realised that her sister was more than just pliant today- she was missing.
"Minerva- Lianna's being vacant." Mist looked up at Ri from the ground and gave her a look that said, I can't believe you didn't notice that sooner. It was the first thing I noticed when I walked in. Humans! Before she turned her gaze to a creature more worthy- a piece of lint floating down the dark, dank hallway.
Minerva looked at the diminutive girl, before pausing in her brisk walk to pull open the girl's eyelids further. "I believe you're right. There is something amiss here." And she began her march again. Adrienne had to hurry to keep up with her, despite her own long legs.
Before long (mainly due to the pace than the lack of distance) they were back in Minerva's rooms; Mist jumped into the middle of the three-seater couch and curled up, seemingly oblivious to the workings of the situation around her. Minerva sat the blonde girl on a hard backed chair. She sat there, blank eyes gazing outwardly at the world. Adrienne reached over to touch the girl's hand. It was warm, but unresisting.
"She's not there."
"Has this happened before?"
"No. She's always been a little bit… what's the right word? Spiritual has too many religious connotations. She's always been a little bit divinitive. She wouldn't even open the letter that mama left for us- I had to do that. Had bad vibes, apparently. She just feels things sometimes. I have no idea where it comes from- from what I've heard, her father's father is a soulless bastard, her father's not much better, and Merlin knows that mama's hardly a seeress! No idea at all." Adrienne shut her mouth. She was babbling. Not a good sign. She firmly shut her mouth. Minerva was still staring hard at Lianna.
"We'll have to call in help."
Adrienne restrained herself from groaning, "not Trelawney, please not Trelawney." Minerva gave her a quick grin that half-resembled a grimace.
"I said help, dear, not hindrance. Now let me see…" Minerva stood to find Floo powder and parchment. Adrienne was left holding her sister's warm hand, staring into her empty eyes, crouching on the hard, stone floor, listening to the silence.
"Here we are, Ruth Akasha." Minerva took herself to the table, scratched furiously with her quill at the parchment. Adrienne gazed at the frolicking tip of the hawk feather.
"Who's she?"
Minerva glanced up from her frantic movements to look at the dark haired, soulful-eyed girl.
"She's a friend of ages. We met in University. She's a trained Psychwitch. She'll be of some help, I believe." Adrienne wracked her brain at the term 'Psychwitch'.
"Aunt Minerva- what's a Psychwitch?"
"Oh, dear- I hope you never need one. She tunes into the spirits of people- she's often able to read moods, occasionally to read thoughts. She's also able to reach deep inside a mind and diagnose all sorts of curious illnesses, though it's dangerous. That's why I hope she'll be of help here." Minerva picked up the parchment in her greying hands, folded the parchment in such a way as for it not to fall open in the course of its travel, inscribed a name on the front in her best, delicate script. She then took parchment and Floo powder to the fireplace, tossed in the green crystals, named her location and threw the parchment into the flames. The parchment appeared to catch fire, but it was not consumed. There was a bright burst, before the entire fireplace went dark.
"Always the worst thing with using the fireplace- Floo powder clear blows everything out of the darned thing." Minerva then busied herself in the kitchenette; "Chocolate, dear?"
Adrienne pulled a chair up beside her sister and nodded her head at Minerva. All they could do was wait.
~*~
It wrapped around her in what seemed to be a sensuous, loving manner, but Hermione could feel its deadly intent. She struggled, but it held her tighter, reaching around her entire body to clasp every part of her into itself. She tried to cry out, but she had no breath to.
Great, she thought, it would have been nice to get some notice here… The leaves of the plant came into her view, and she set her logical mind to working out what plant it was.
"Devil's Snare," she managed to wheeze out of her constricted lungs, recognising the plant from her second-year adventure. The overcast sky and overhanging branches would have been a perfect nursery. But, she thought despairingly, there hasn't been any wild Devil's Snare around for decades! The thought occurred to her that it might have been planted. But who would be so evil as to do a thing like this? Hermione's thoughts echoed into darkness as the constrictions of the plant became too much and she passed out.
~*~
Somewhere, in a remote part of England, in the back yard of a small, quaint cottage, a woman sat in an inscribed circle, candles floating at intervals around the edge. She stood slowly, her clear green eyes piercing the darkness in an almost phosphorate way. She clapped her hands together three times, then gently broke the circle with the toe of her leather boot. She evacuated the area, extinguished the candles and collected them before walking inside her house. Here, she turned on the lights and raised the object that had occupied her time- a small vial, tightly stoppered with a piece of ivy wood, containing just a breath of mist.
It was all she needed.
~*~
A/N: And so, the plot begins to take shape! We'll see where it takes us…
*kitten