(Disclaimer: No… I don't own anything… no… oh and let me tell you this is set after The Goblet of Fire, no spoilers ahead!
A/N: So here's chapter 5… this one's kind of bloody, so BEWARE! Now I warned you so don't complain… hey, and again: thank you to Rainstruck Elegance for reviewing loves reviews I'm so happy you guys actually read and like my story… now I feel forced to write more… heheh… well, I like writing so it's not your fault gg Alright, again thank you for reading!
Remember: this chap is quite bloody… everyone knowing Self-Injurious Behaviour, it might be something like a trigger… so beware! But nevertheless: keep reading :) )
Chapter 5: The invisible force
Hermione's stomach made a funny flick when Fred landed next to some high bushes. She shook her head absentmindedly, making him stare at her with a bright grin. He then climbed off the broom, waiting for her to do the same.
"You alright?", he said with a laugh.
"Do I look that funny, huh?", she said and looked at him, raising one eye brow.
"Well, yeah", he said, laughing.
She stared at him, her hands on her hips. "Oh, great you have fun", she said.
What happened? She suddenly felt relieved. She couldn't help but smile at Fred. With her standing on solid ground again, she seemed to have lost the weight that had been tied to her shoulders, pulling her down. It was the first time since the very incident that she felt like really enjoying Fred's presence. His laughter seemed to be relieving.
Shaking his head still grinning, Fred shouldered the broom and turned around to look along the street. Hermione stepped beside him, doing the same. There was no one out there on this ordinary afternoon. They began walking down the street towards her parents' house. The nearer they came, the more nervous did Hermione get. She felt her heart racing when they took the last corner. The parental house came into view, an ordinary two-story house that looked just the same like the other houses around.
When they could finally see the front yard, Hermione's heart made a flick.
There was no car standing in front of the garage. They had to be out!
"I think they're gone", she muttered. Fred nodded.
"So, do you have… keys?", he asked, approaching the front door.
She looked at him, her forehead furrowed. "You serious?"
"Well, I read about Muggles closing their doors with keys... you don't have any?"
"Of course I have some, but not with me. And besides. Are you a wizard or not? You are seventeen; you are allowed to use magic outside of school now. So, go ahead!", she said, smirking.
He watched her while pulling out his wand.
"I have to remember this", he said, grinning. "Hermione Granger, famous and feared prefect, allows me, Fred Weasley, one of two most famous pranksters, to sneak into a Muggle house. Just an honourable moment, this is…"
She hit his elbow jokingly. "Yeah, yeah, do write a book about it, will you", she muttered, looking around. "Now open the door!"
"Alohomora", he whispered, pointing his wand at the door that momentarily jumped open.
Hermione squeezed herself beside him through the open gap into the house. He followed and closed the door again. At the same time as Hermione checked the first floor, Fred looked around kind of fascinated. His dad would have been more than delighted to see a real Muggle house. He remembered the last time he had seen a Muggle house. Just last year when he along with his brothers and father had picked up Harry from the Dursley's. He recalled that house being so clean he'd felt as if stepping into another world. A world he just didn't belong. It was so clean and neat that he had no problems seeing his face on the wooden floor.
This house, however, seemed to be just the place where a Hermione wanted to live. There were shelves full of books in the living room and neat, yet kind of shaggy carpets on the floor. There were pictures of happy smiling people on the walls. Fred waited some minutes for them to move in their frames, soon recalling that Muggles didn't have moving pictures. A shame. He then stepped into the kitchen smelling fresh baked bread.
Moving towards the odd looking oven, he was totally sunk into the amazing smell that he didn't notice Hermione entering the kitchen as well. At the same time as he moved to open the oven, Hermione hand was on his shoulder. He almost jumped, closing the oven door with a loud clap.
"What is it with you Weasley's and food… haven't you just had lunch before we fly off?", Hermione asked, pulling Fred away from the oven.
"It smelled so good", he replied, grinning sheepishly.
Hermione just raised one brow.
"Come on, I don't know how long my parents will be away…"
She then left the kitchen, heading to the stairs. Fred hurried after her.
"So now I'm gonna see your room, huh?", he asked, climbing the stairs after her. "I wonder what it will be looking like…"
"Stop it, yeah?", she said, her temper rising.
Fred watched her head shake again.
They then reached the second floor. Hermione headed to the door at the end of the corridor. She opened the door, passed it – and closed it again, so that Fred almost ran into it.
"Hey, Hermione", he called through the door. "Let me help you!"
"No, I don't need your help with this. I can pack my stuff by myself, thank you!", she replied on the other side of the door.
Fred raised both brows, shrugging and turning to watch the motionless pictures on the walls.
"Boring", he said and continued watching.
Hermione felt weird being in her room again. She breathed deeply, stepping towards her closet. Pulling out the big trunk from above it, she began cramming her clothes together and threw them relentlessly into the trunk. She passed the nightstand of her bed to collect some books – when she suddenly felt something grab her bottom. It was as if something was tied around her belly, pulling her backwards with an invisible force. Her eyes were fixed on something at the nightstand. Something she had hoped to see no more.
The small razor blades lay there in a tiny slop of blood, half-covered from one of her books. She felt her heart race and her stomach flip. The urge to vomit was growing inside her. She stared at the little knives before everything turned black and she couldn't fight the force that pulled her down anymore.
So she fell into her memory…
Hermione was sitting on her bed. The sun was shining brightly at her face. Next to her lay a bunch of books she wanted to read over the holidays. She leaned over to grab the string she used to put around her hair (so it wouldn't disturb her while reading) from the nightstand when she saw these two little things lay underneath one of her books. She'd never seen anything like this before, at least she thought. She then remembered seeing it in one of her father's books. She used to read every book she could find in her parents' house when she was a kid. It had been a book about the history of shaving. An odd book. Yet it said that men used to shave their beards with little razor blades that are sometimes even used nowadays.
She put one of them between her fingers; it was so tiny, yet she felt how it cut into her skin, the blade was so sharp she only had to touch it to begin bleeding. She wanted to let it fall to the floor – but she couldn't. Something made her keep it, something even made her move the blade to her left arm where it cut shortly into her skin creating a little red line on her arm. She gasped. The pain was terrible. Yet she couldn't stop it. Her head went empty, her mind went blank. She wanted to scream but she couldn't even open her mouth.
The invisible force let her cut deep into her skin so that her arm was full of little red strains after some minutes. Blood was dripping from some of the deeper wounds to the carpet where they left small bloodstains. The hand that was holding the blade hurt so much, she wanted to pull it away but she couldn't. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Then there was a voice inside her head. She almost jumped hearing it the first time.
"Show them what you are able to!"
She looked around in shock but there was no one to whom the voice might have belonged. She then slowly looked down at her left arm where the blade was still cutting wounds into her skin. 'Stop it! PLEASE STOP IT!', she screamed but her voice never made it outside her head.
Suddenly there was movement in front of her door. Terrified, Hermione looked up from the wounds on her arm that she didn't produce willingly. The door opened and her mother went in, a smile on her face that died soon after she had stepped inside the room, seeing her daughter apparently hurt herself. Her friendly face turned into a grotesque mask of shock and anger.
Hermione wanted to tell her that she didn't do that, that she couldn't stop because there was something that made her do so. But yet again, she couldn't. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks and blood was still dripping from her wounds, turning the carpet at her feet into a crimson mess. Her mother yelled at her and moved towards her, trying to grab the razor blades out of her hands.
They suddenly slipped from Hermione's hands as if the invisible force let them fall to the ground. She soon after collapsed on the floor, her arm aching, her head turning, and her heart racing. She barely noticed her mother yelling, calling for her father, and she barely noticed someone lying her down on the bed. She heard voices and screams, words and curses. Anger and shock. Then she fell into a very dark world.
Silence deafened her senses. She tried to open her eyes or even move her body, but she didn't feel strong enough. She just lay on her bed, breathing hard. Hours seemed to have passed by but when she finally managed to open her eyes, the sun was still shining brightly at her pale face. She sat up and looked around. The room was empty and the smell of blood and cleanser tickled her nose. Breathing deeply, she looked down at her left arm. Dried blood blemished her skin. She felt her head spinning again when she slowly got up from bed. She grabbed her sweater, pulled it over her shaking body and walked tumbling and trembling through the house.
She could hear her mother talk to someone on the phone. She remembered her yelling at her she would be send straight to a psychiatrist. Her heart sank. She quickened her steps and left the house through the front door. There she hid behind the big willow tree, waiting for her owl to come back from hunting. She felt as if in trance, and before she knew it she was standing back in her room, knowing that more than twenty-four hours had passed…
She was leaning against her closet, panting hard. Her arm hurt when she remembered what she had just recalled. The memory burned inside her mind. She shook her head, turning to look at the nightstand. She remembered the razor blades lying on the ground when she saw them the last time. But now they were lying on the nightstand again, just like they did the day before.
Something strange was going on.
A knock on the door made her jump.
"Hermione? You've finished yet?", called Fred's voice through the door.
She took a deep breath and walked over to the door and opened it. His red head appeared on the other side. His gaze changed from nosy to concerned.
"You alright? You look pale…", he said, watching her.
She just nodded and went back into the room to finish packing. She threw the last books into the trunk and slammed it shut. When she tried to raise it, Fred entered the room and bewitched it with his wand. It now hovered inches from the ground.
"Thanks", she muttered, turning to grab the last things from her desk, including her own wand and some coins that she shoved into the pockets of her trousers. She then walked over to the window, looking down the street.
Fred heard her gasp in shock. He turned to step beside her, seeing that a car approached the house. Hermione's parents were about to come back.
"What now? Do you have a back yard door or something?"
"No", she merely whispered.
"Come on, we have to go –"
"They are already in the house", she whispered again, making Fred stare at her.
"How do you –", he began before hearing noise from downstairs. "Damn it!"
He turned to her, seeing her still standing at the window.
"Hermione", he whispered, touching her arm. "Come on, we –"
She suddenly turned around and left the room. Fred stared after her with big eyes. She came back soon after, holding his broom in her hand. He seemed to have forgotten it on the second floor somewhere. She gave it to him and walked over to her desk like in trance. There she scribbled a small note on a piece of parchment before throwing it on the bed. Fred could only see two lines on it, saying:
"Don't be afraid, I'm fine.
And please don't go looking for me! H."
He then watched her opening the window. His brows went up and disappeared under his hair. What was she doing?
"Could you help me?", she finally addressed him, making him almost jump at the tone of her voice. She sounded a bit like his mother. Not good.
He helped her carry the trunk towards the window, bewitching it to be attached to his broom. She then mounted the broom with him following her.
"This is insane", he muttered as he kicked off the windowsill and flew off into the darkening sky.
"Now that's something I have to remember", she said, turning her head so he could hear her. "Hermione Granger, famous and feared prefect, showed Fred Weasley, one of the two most famous pranksters, how to sneak in and of course out of a Muggle house. A really honourable moment to learn from me, isn't it, Fred?"
He saw her grin from the side and couldn't help admitting that she was right.
Not that she thought she might have taught him something, but the fact that she might actually be a girl that was more than a bookworm and a know-it-all. She seemed to be more rebel than he had thought she was.
Impressing.
A/N: Thanks for reading, more is coming soon, I promise!