Floating Into Darkness: More? Your wish is my demand.
Chapter 36
Hermione was sitting on her window shelf. She cursed herself slowly under her breath. She should have been more careful; it would very easy to trace up Pansy's incident up to her. Or then again, maybe not; Maryann and Emmilya were behind all this after all. They did a good job with what they did. But then again, they were very well paid.
Hermione slowly whistled, and her fat, orange cat jumped on the window next her and purred loudly. He had been playing with the rats underneath her bed again. She took her cat on her lap and sunk her hands in the pleasantly warm fur. The window was wide open, and a cold wind caressed her frame.
She was grateful for the cat's warmth on her stomach. Warmth dulled the pain a bit. Hermione took the brush with which she had been brushing her hair in her hand and slowly passed it on Crookshanks back. The cat snuggled closer.
Hermione wished that Severus would be there. She wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her fatigue away. She wanted comfort, she wanted to be able to talk about her experiments. Yet she didn't dare to.
Her cat jumped off, finding the electricity created by the brush annoying. The cat patted her stomach and Hermione couldn't bite back a little cry. Then she swore loudly seeing the scar she had on her stomach.
She had been hit. Nothing dangerous mind you. Se had received two minor flesh wounds on her stomach. The wound wasn't deep, nor very dangerous, yet Hermione knew there was something dodgy about it. She had been stabbed with some very odd knife.
She wasn't sure what it was, so she let it heal by itself. It was very surely one of those daggers used by stupid Purebloods. They poisoned one if magic was used to heal it. Good for Hermione she was used to pain.
Her body stared to reminisce a map. She liked to compare her body to the theory of "The Blank Canvas". According to some psychologists, our minds are like blank canvases when we are born; our memories paint it up. Hermione's mind-canvas was her body.
Hermione yowled angry out. She might have fucked up everything just because she was too excited about one lousy project. Well, no turning back now. Better hurry up with her experiments.
She quickly jumped from the window shelf on the floor and quickly ducked to drag out the cage of rats.
She took three of them. They were the size of small cats. They eyes gleamed in the candle light and Hermione patted them before accioing a cage from her bathroom. Hermione smiled to herself; Paravti and Lavender would simply kill her if they saw what for she used her bathroom. But then again if they saw what she was doing, she would have quite surely to kill them.
Hermione dropped off the rats in the cage and sighed happily. Her experiments were going well. This far only four rats had exploded (four rats on five). But after all, those rats were better use to her when dead. She just needed them to very, very, very big.
"Perfect dosage!"
Her rats were now roughly the size of a full grown Labradors. Hermione tossed a couple of extra fruits into the cage, knowing fully well the consequences. She shook slowly her head. Oh well…. Fang would have some extra meat to dine upon…. Again.
Now Hermione sat down next to her table. She opened the last drawer, the largest one of them all.
The vanilla crystal crème was still there. It worked, obviously. Hermione took out the crème and took a very small amount of it; the tiniest of tips of cream was on her fingertip. She tentatively smeared it over her eyeslid. Hermione waited.
She didn't have to wait long. She saw form sifting slightly. Things were glowing, especially the plants. Hermione saw slight traces of colours plants used to attract insects. Hermione took a tiny bit more of the cream and slightly rubbed it again against her eyelids.
Now things glowed a bit more, and Hermione saw a very, very thin silhouette sitting on the window shelf. Hermione put away the cream, happy for the effects.
Hermione needed Severus. Just when she was about to leaves he saw the cross of blood on her stomach. Hermione looked horrified on the cross. That fooking bastard had marked her! That what he had done! They could track her down with the help of that skin piece!
Now Hermione panicked. What to do? No. She would not panic stupidly; she would go and fetch her companions; they'll help her. They had to.
Guess whoooooosee baaa-aaack...