Sup yall! So, after getting royally pissed about Google Chrome NOT loading fanfiction for me, I am now a firefox follower. There was only so much fanfiction withdrawl I could go through. I bet J.K. Rowling had the Scotland Yard block me on Google. Well take that! BUAHAHAHA!...But really J.K., if you hate my fanfiction that much, just give me a jingle. I will more than gladly take a call from the goddess of writing herself.
But anyway!
This chapter is where the plot actually comes in. I introduce one or two more characters, and I'm actually thinking this fanfiction is going to be good!
WHAT? ANNE? A GOOD FANFICTION? NO WAY!
Yes, yes, a shock to us all, but we'll see what happens! And keep those reviews rolling! I love me a good review!
The walls were primed white and painted from his waist down a light beige. It was supposedly to give the hospital a sense of cheery welcome.
Fred Weasley felt far from cheery.
That morning, his mother had insisted the entire family go with him to the hospital to see him settled in. If that wasn't embarrassing enough, his mother was hassling the nurse who was giving them the tour with bickering questions like, "How many meals a day will he get?", and "When does he get to go outside?" It was rather irritating for everyone.
Hermione clutched his hand tighter as they got closer to his room. He squeezed back, trying not to think too much about what he would have to do.
"And this is your room Mr. Weasley." The nurse was a woman with a black curly mane that had been pulled out of her face into a messy bun. "There are to be no pictures on the wall, although frames on the windowsill will do just fine. We wash sheets and laundry every other week." She checked another marker off of her list. "Lunch is at noon, and dinner is at 5 o'clock, but you can come at any time you wish as long as you come back before the cafeteria closes." She stood there for a moment, shifted when all of the eyes continued to stare. "I'll leave you all to chat here for a moment. I have one other thing I have to check on." She flitted out of the room, almost as if the entire family wasn't there with brooding questions about the place.
Fred took a look around his room. The walls were light blue, white sheets and a navy comforter on the bed. A small desk with a lamp sat under the window, which looked down into the back of the facility where there was a small garden with a pond, which Mrs. Weasley had found 'lovely'. To Fred, all of it seemed a bit too cheerful for his own good, especially since he was practically selling himself off like a lab rat.
"Well!" Molly dropped herself onto Fred's bed. "This is a lovely place, don't you think Arthur?"
Arthur only nodded. Most would believe that Fred and George's temperament was more like their mothers. On the contrary, George was more like his father, quite when things became stressful. Fred was more often than not trying to soothe over an awkward silence with a joke that was usually inappropriate at the time.
But something was amiss with the twin. It was as if the brother's had swapped places. George was talking rather rapidly to his brother, telling him about the golf course that was right next door, the 'amazing' food that he'd be able to gorge on, the hot nurses that were flitting about.
"Hey, didn't we see that girl when Beauxbattons came to Hogwarts?"
Fred only shrugged as the blonde nurse passed. His face was solemn and quiet the entire time. Since they had entered the doors of the facility, Fred had not said a single word to anyone, not even Hermione.
Hermione was scared. Not just scared.
Terrified.
She hadn't been this scared since the battle, and she didn't like the look on Fred's face that morning. Waking up to his face had always been the highlight of her day besides falling asleep next to him. That morning, however, she had awoken to him lying next to her, a look of sadness imprinted in his eyes as he pushed a strand of hair out of her face. She pressed his hand to her cheek, but he only pulled away, began listlessly tossing his clothes back into the suitcase they had thrown on the floor the night before.
She knew he was in pain, understood that he was just as scared about what would happen to him, even more so than they were. She just wished that he would say something.
"Sorry about that!" The nurse walked back in again. She checked one other thing off her list, pulling on her shirt sleeve as she did so. "Now, I'm terribly sorry, but you all must make your goodbyes now. You can part with them in the lobby."
"Good. And you're sure that's the right one?"
"Definitely sir. He's the right brother."
The dark room was lit only by the screens of the security cameras in the hospital. The man in the chair turned, overcome by the shadow in the room. His glasses reflected the light, sending a shiver up the nurse's spine.
"Is there anything else I can do sir?"
He waved his hand. "Get the family out of here." He chuckled to himself. "As soon as they leave, we can get started."
George held his twin close, holding back the tears that were threatening to escape. But the Fred he knew would only make fun of him for it. So he didn't cry, new that that's what Fred would want.
Finally, Fred spoke. "Keep your head up Georgie. I'll be fine."
George nodded. Stepped back. "Okay Freddie. Okay."
Finally, he turned to Hermione. Her eyes were already red and puffy from crying. "'Mione…"
She reached for him, buried her face into his shoulder. "Don't say goodbye. Please." Her voice was muffled.
Pressing his face into her hair, he smelled the flowers on her. "Then what do you want me to say."
"Tell me you love me one last time?" she sniffed.
He kissed her ear, her cheek, then finally, her lips. Those soft lips that had given him so much comfort in the past. Those lips which he had only started to memorize with his own. "I won't." He kissed her again. "I won't stop telling you, Hermione Granger, that I love you more than anyone can say, and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."
And with that, he released her, watched her turn towards the open arms of his family, and watched as one by one, they left him.
He had been lying in bed for over an hour. His sobs had mellowed into slight quivers every now and then, and his face had become stone still. She looked at her paperwork again, her face showing no signs of sympathy. Or at least trying. Mariabella Frontaine, a simple nurse at a home for the mentally challenged, was, on the outside, a simple young woman just trying to get through her schooling. She watched Fred Weasley through the enchanted looking glasses that hung on the walls, meant to watch the patients wherever they went.
He was scheduled to meet the doctors that afternoon at 4:30 exactly to have his physical for the tests ahead. After, he would sign the paperwork that would give him a better idea of what was to be 'expected' of him as the experimentee.
When Maria looked up from her paperwork, she was surprised to see him staring straight at her, as if he knew the enchantment was there, his eyes empty and hollow. Her heart began to reach out to the poor man. He had gone through so much in such a short time, more than most wizards ever go through within their entire lives.
But the way his eyes had darkened when that young girl had walked out the door, the way his body had curled in on itself, the man looked like the life had been drained right out of him.
Maria shivered at the thought. "Best not to think about that right now," she whispered in her mind. "God I need a smoke."
Looking back one last time at the boy in the glass, she walked out of the security office, curving to the right towards the receptionist's desk. Nancy Mulligan, an old, bitter woman who had been there longer than Maria dare imagine, gave her a glare as she passed her charts along to her.
"Takin' a smoke break Nancy. Be back in fifteen."
"Make that five young lady! I can't take care of your patients for you! No wonder you failed your exams…"
Maria only shrugged off the old woman's hagging as she opened the door to the stairwell that would take her to the roof.
She had always loved the roof. She loved the feeling of the sun on her olive skin. She let her hair down, let the wind blow through the dark strands as she pulled the hidden blunt out of her pocket, lit it with a small incantation. Letting the smoke fill her lungs, she felt the jitters of her assignment wash away. The joint only did so much though. What her uncle was making her do, to a complete stranger, was almost too much for her to understand.
But she under stood money, and at this point, she was desperate.
"Didn't someone say that smoking is bad for you?" She felt as if she had been caught by the snake in Eden. A leather clad arm wrapped around her waist, pressed her up against a cold, padded body.
She tried to stomach her nausea. "Let me go." The dark voice was at her ear, the smell of chewing tobacco filling her nose.
"Tut tut tut. The little mudblood has a tongue."
Maria turned, only to be pressed into his chest, his mouth forcefully pressed on to hers.
Her knee came up swiftly into his groin, making him fall to the graveled earth with a shuddering groan.
"Do that again and I'll castrate you."
The man grunted. His gray eyes glared up at her. "You little bitch."
"Just because you're my uncle's…henchman or whatever, gives you no right to lay a hand on me Viper." Maria picked her blunt up off the ground, lit it again. She turned her back to the slimy man behind her, but kept an ear on his movements. "What do you want?"
"Your uncle wants you. It's about time we started on this kid." The chuckle behind her made her cringe. "I can't wait to start."
Viper was a man of bad grammar and bad hygiene. His greasy blonde hair was pulled back, his teeth always yellow with flecks of tobacco in them. But he was the best in security, always right behind her uncle at every possible moment.
Now he stood behind her, waiting for her to follow him.
"I'll be there in a minute. Let me finish this." Her voice was firm, and she hoped that would be enough to fend off the man…for now.
He glared into her back. "Fine. I'll tell him you're fuckin' the laundry boy."
She laughed. "Oh please, do."
The satisfying sound the metal door made behind her made Maria smile a bit. She tossed the blunt over the edge of the roof, watching it pitter to the ground. Looking along the horizon, she wanted to fly, to forget the money, forget life and reality, and get away from the darkness around her.
But the darkness called, and there was nothing she could do for Fred Weasley.
*gasp* NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Horrible cliff hanger, I know, but it'll get better! I have plans! It'll be GREAT!
And don't you just love Maria? She's all like, "LETS GET DOWN TO BUSINESS, TO SMOKE WEED, AND CRUMBLEUNDERMYUNCLE'SREIN..." I think it's funny how I think that if I just squeeze the words together to make one big word...they'll actually fit...