Disclaimer: - I do not own any of these characters just the new spin, they
are J K Rowling's' and hers alone.
A/N: Hey again. I'm not completely sure about this chapter yet so it mite be altered a bit. If you have any suggestions please review and I will try my best.
Chapter 4 - Spin away
The room swirled. The bottle fell from her hand empty and smashed onto the floor. She thought her problems would all swirl away with the colours but they were magnified. The images of the past events started to flick again. Bang! Nine years old, sitting by herself in the playground at break time. Bang! Ten years old, another humiliation. Bang! Twelve years old hiding in the library again. Bang! Thirteen years old, cruel pranks on Valentines Day. Bang! Fourteen years old, alone on a Saturday. Bang! His face. This time she didn't have the strength or coordination to release her problems the way she always did.
She curled onto the floor painfully as her knees could no longer hold her. This was not supposed to happen. She used to have so many prospects, but not anymore. When she had her friends she had all these plans of who she would be and how, but now they were all forgotten. She barely knew how she was going to cope with the next day let alone the rest of her life. Where was she going? If she didn't know how the hell would anyone else? I guess there were some who knew exactly where she was going but she still never to listen to them because whenever she did, another piece of the shred of hope for herself, that she had so painstakingly collected, was ripped away from her.
They all knew she was nothing. They all knew she had no purpose and no point. No destination. Now and again they still say that she is clever, but what is the point in knowledge when you are not going anywhere? She is going in circles, just hurting herself to numb the pain, drinking to pass the time and not eating to fill the emptiness. Where she is going no one knows and perhaps they will never know. She is now on the floor whilst the room is still spinning. The colours are getting faster and it feels like she is on a merry go round that is out of control. There she goes, just waiting to fall.
Fat tears squeeze down her face unceasingly, raining down her cheeks in a storm. The colours are getting darker, the shapes more rapid. 'Why did they all leave me?' she thought. She had done nothing wrong. She had just dared to not wish to grow up. Not yet. She desperately clinged to her youth, which was so rapidly slipping through her fingers.
The colours are getting further and reality is lost. She can't tell the difference between the fantastical and the harsh reality. The colours are getting old and now she is lost. She's been lost for a long time because there is no longer any one to guide her. Hermione is trapped in the wilderness of her own mind and is forced to walk forever alone except in her dreams. "No more please! I beg you!" she cries. She thrashes about on the floor in desperation, taking no notice of the bruises she is inflicting on herself when she hits the furniture. She tries to stand but fails. She tries again but fails. If at first you don't succeed, you shouldn't have tried in the first place. If at first you don't succeed, you were not good enough to have made it. If at first you don't succeed, how dare you have failed! Those were the philosophies that she had been taught. Those were the philosophies that she had always believed.
She rolled onto her back slowly and drew in three deep breaths. "Get a hold of your self Hermione" she thought. She tried to focus but her pupils were too dilated. She crawled to the bed and hauled herself up onto the red and gold silk sheets. 'Gryffindor colours' she thought. 'House of the brave and the loyal. The sorting hat must have been high the year that sorted my year of Gryffindor's. If Gryffindor's are so loyal, how come I am all alone? If Gryffindor's are so brave, then how come I am so pathetic?' Her knees and elbows were bleeding because she had crawled over the broken glass and now her blood was smeared all over the wooden floor, but she didn't care. She rejoiced at the pain, because it made her feel alive.
In her wonderland of colours, she became aware of the common room door being opened. 'It must be the head boy. Of course he won't come in here why would he?' but she heard the foot steps getting closer and closer. 'Oh shit! He can't see me when I'm like this! I can't even sit up! And shit I'm bleeding!' She tried to move so that she could lock the door, but it was too late. The handle was already turning. In her hurry and confusion, Hermione toppled off the bed sharply onto the floor, as the door opened. "Guess whooo!" a voice said and a face peered round the door. He stared at her and she stared at him and they gasped. No way!
A/N hope you liked it. I managed to finish it way earlier than I thought I would. Sorry to leave you on a cliff hanger but it seemed to be the place that I should stop. Please review, constructive criticism is welcome.
A/N: Hey again. I'm not completely sure about this chapter yet so it mite be altered a bit. If you have any suggestions please review and I will try my best.
Chapter 4 - Spin away
The room swirled. The bottle fell from her hand empty and smashed onto the floor. She thought her problems would all swirl away with the colours but they were magnified. The images of the past events started to flick again. Bang! Nine years old, sitting by herself in the playground at break time. Bang! Ten years old, another humiliation. Bang! Twelve years old hiding in the library again. Bang! Thirteen years old, cruel pranks on Valentines Day. Bang! Fourteen years old, alone on a Saturday. Bang! His face. This time she didn't have the strength or coordination to release her problems the way she always did.
She curled onto the floor painfully as her knees could no longer hold her. This was not supposed to happen. She used to have so many prospects, but not anymore. When she had her friends she had all these plans of who she would be and how, but now they were all forgotten. She barely knew how she was going to cope with the next day let alone the rest of her life. Where was she going? If she didn't know how the hell would anyone else? I guess there were some who knew exactly where she was going but she still never to listen to them because whenever she did, another piece of the shred of hope for herself, that she had so painstakingly collected, was ripped away from her.
They all knew she was nothing. They all knew she had no purpose and no point. No destination. Now and again they still say that she is clever, but what is the point in knowledge when you are not going anywhere? She is going in circles, just hurting herself to numb the pain, drinking to pass the time and not eating to fill the emptiness. Where she is going no one knows and perhaps they will never know. She is now on the floor whilst the room is still spinning. The colours are getting faster and it feels like she is on a merry go round that is out of control. There she goes, just waiting to fall.
Fat tears squeeze down her face unceasingly, raining down her cheeks in a storm. The colours are getting darker, the shapes more rapid. 'Why did they all leave me?' she thought. She had done nothing wrong. She had just dared to not wish to grow up. Not yet. She desperately clinged to her youth, which was so rapidly slipping through her fingers.
The colours are getting further and reality is lost. She can't tell the difference between the fantastical and the harsh reality. The colours are getting old and now she is lost. She's been lost for a long time because there is no longer any one to guide her. Hermione is trapped in the wilderness of her own mind and is forced to walk forever alone except in her dreams. "No more please! I beg you!" she cries. She thrashes about on the floor in desperation, taking no notice of the bruises she is inflicting on herself when she hits the furniture. She tries to stand but fails. She tries again but fails. If at first you don't succeed, you shouldn't have tried in the first place. If at first you don't succeed, you were not good enough to have made it. If at first you don't succeed, how dare you have failed! Those were the philosophies that she had been taught. Those were the philosophies that she had always believed.
She rolled onto her back slowly and drew in three deep breaths. "Get a hold of your self Hermione" she thought. She tried to focus but her pupils were too dilated. She crawled to the bed and hauled herself up onto the red and gold silk sheets. 'Gryffindor colours' she thought. 'House of the brave and the loyal. The sorting hat must have been high the year that sorted my year of Gryffindor's. If Gryffindor's are so loyal, how come I am all alone? If Gryffindor's are so brave, then how come I am so pathetic?' Her knees and elbows were bleeding because she had crawled over the broken glass and now her blood was smeared all over the wooden floor, but she didn't care. She rejoiced at the pain, because it made her feel alive.
In her wonderland of colours, she became aware of the common room door being opened. 'It must be the head boy. Of course he won't come in here why would he?' but she heard the foot steps getting closer and closer. 'Oh shit! He can't see me when I'm like this! I can't even sit up! And shit I'm bleeding!' She tried to move so that she could lock the door, but it was too late. The handle was already turning. In her hurry and confusion, Hermione toppled off the bed sharply onto the floor, as the door opened. "Guess whooo!" a voice said and a face peered round the door. He stared at her and she stared at him and they gasped. No way!
A/N hope you liked it. I managed to finish it way earlier than I thought I would. Sorry to leave you on a cliff hanger but it seemed to be the place that I should stop. Please review, constructive criticism is welcome.