Stuck in Place

by KemAjiana


A/n: I'm astonished! As of today, I've nearly broken 1,000 visits, 6 reviews, and 12 favorites, trumping my other stories by a mile at this early stage. I'm awestruck. Special thanks to everyone who has helped egg me on to this point, especially Insert Clever Potter Name Here and LesbianRavenclaw, who have dealt with my asinine ramblings over group chat while we moderate the page. You guys are great. Much love to you! And many heartfelt thanks to everyone that's reviewed this far; you guys have helped to keep me motivated.


Chapter Six

"'Mione! We're done! How does - oh Merlin."

The box of knickknacks in Fred's hands slipped, smashing to the ground with a bang, as his blue eyes shot wide, his face going quite pale.

Hermione was crouched in the center of the room, her teeth pulled back over her lips in a snarl, back arched and fur standing on end as she glared at Fred where he stood in the doorway. He raised one hand, the other creeping slowly to his back pocket, where he'd stored his wand. George was stamping up the stairs now, another heavy box in his hands, and Fred kept his shoulders firmly in the doorway, keeping George from being able to enter the flat.

"Freddie, what are you doing just standing there, you oaf?"

Fred didn't turn. "George, draw your wand."

Without question, both twins brandished their wands and crept into the flat slowly, shutting the door as quietly as possible, as if worried they'd startle Hermione, who was now growling low in her throat as she began to back over four small, mauled bodies she'd been taking turns gnawing at. The other Puffs had scattered, cowering from the fierce predator that had attacked them; Fred could see two, bloodied and probably wounded, beneath the low couch.

"'Mione," he cooed gently, palms outward in a friendly gesture, but he still clutched his wand tightly. "What happened, 'Mione?"

George was moving to flank her, then, summoning a heavy blanket from his open bedroom. Hermione's chocolate eyes had brightened to a brilliant amber, no recognition in their depths as she growled at the twin brothers before her. George dove, aiming to wrap her in the heavy blanket without hurting her, at the same time she bolted towards Fred, mouth wide.

With a wave of his wand, her mouth snapped shut, and she collided into him forcefully, knocking them both to the ground, her claws scrabbling as she tried to leap away. Fred wrapped his arms around her neck, holding her in a headlock while George recovered from his dive enough to wrap her in the duvet. Fred gripped her chin in his hand, holding her face at eye level while keeping her gaze locked on his.

Slowly, amber faded away to chocolate brown, and Hermione stilled in his arms. Fred stroked his large hand over her face, over her ear and down her neck, and she slumped against him.

"'Mione?" he whispered as George moved to gather up the rest of the Pygmy Puffs. His eyes kept shooting to where his brother cradled Hermione on the floor. "'Mione?"

She let out a soft, long whine as she buried her head in his chest. Fred stroked her fur absently, soothingly. "I've got you. Just relax."

George was gathering up the small, crushed bodies, wrapping them in a kitchen hand towel as he waved a wand over the red stain in the carpet. He grimaced. "Fred, that's four lost, another three are pretty lucky to be alive, and we may lose two more if we don't keep an eye on them." He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes suddenly very tired. "That leaves two of eleven."

Fred gave a soft shake of his head. "She didn't mean to, Georgie. Something must have...sparked this."

With another glance at the two of them, George left to dispose of the small bodies, hanging the cage on a hook on the wall. The two uninjured Puffs were hopping about, curious as ever, while the others huddled together in the corner, squeaking pitifully. Fred was still stroking Hermione's fur as she shook from shock.

"Hermione, love," he murmured. "Don't beat yourself up about it. We'll figure out what happened, yeah?"

She blinked up at him with wide, chocolate eyes, and he smiled gently before standing, cradling her to his chest. He walked slowly, deliberately, to his bedroom, setting her on his unmade bed. "Sleep a bit. I'll come get you when dinner is made." His eyes twinkled a bit, and he looked about to make a joke, but thought better of it, scratching her ear playfully. "George and I aren't mad."

It wasn't much later that she could hear George return, and the brothers spoke in hushed whispers while she cowered in the dark room.

"Fred, we can't trust her anymore."

"George -"

"Don't, Fred. What if she loses it and really attacks one of us."

"Then we really will be werefoxes."

"Fred."

"George, it's Hermione. She has nowhere to go. Mum and dad won't be back for a few more days. We'll call Charlie tomorrow, alright? He's the family animal expert; maybe he can tell us something."

There was no more talk that night of Pygmy Puffs or what had happened, and Hermione felt more and more guilty as time passed, especially at dinner, when George kept shooting her sideways glances.

When she went to go and settle on the couch for the night, Fred stopped her, carrying her to his room and kicking the door shut before placing her on the bed. If she'd have been human, she would have been blushing fiercely as he changed out of his casual clothes into a pair of low-slung, long pyjama pants and climbed into bed beside her.

He smiled, ruffling her head fur. "Don't tell mum you slept in my bed, yeah? She'll have our wedding planned by next week, even if you are a fox." He beamed, laughing at his own joke, before rolling onto his side, back to her. "Night 'Mione."

She huffed at him softly, and, that night, slept curled up against his broad, warm back.