Ch. 6: Taking A Tumble
ELLE
I frowned and attempted to smooth down my bedhead. "Elle," I mumbled at him. Looking down at my throbbing toe, I realized that I'd jammed it on my trunk for school. Jerk. I glared at it before turning away with a huff. The trunk swung open with a click and a low creeaaak, as I grabbed an outfit for the day: long-sleeved flannel, some jeans, and a pair of hiking boots.
"Loo is to your left; only one connected to a room." Fred yawned and stretched his arms over his head, causing his fiery red hair to fall over his eyes. He was lanky enough that his arms knocked into the top of the headboard above him, cavalier in his wandering eyes as they peaked out at me, curious and roaming.
With my arms full of the day's clothes, I watched him for a moment too, studying his dust-freckles splattered over his pale features, red hair alight in the rising dawn. He was older than me or Hermione, which I knew right away.
Must be one of the twins Hermione was talking about, I thought. I tore my eyes from him with a shrug and a grunt and peered around for the door he was talking about.
"Thanks," I said under my breath with a sharp eye, grabbing my bag of toiletries before giving him a glare and stalking over to the bathroom. Fred Weasley didn't impress me with his rude comment and stupid grin. He watched me limp, painfully to the bathroom with my stubbed toe.
I locked the door behind me and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face to wake me up a bit. "It's gonna be a long day, Elle," I told my drowned-rat expression, water dripping from my chin.
I shut off the sink and threw on my clothes, running a brush through my hair. "You both have the same frizzy hair." Fred's voice rang through my head. I did not know why this bothered me so much; I never really cared how I looked and I know that I don't have frizzy hair.
Frowning at my poofed hair, I pulled my wand out of my boot and pointed it at my hair "Lisse" I said, watching as my hair suddenly became smooth and silky with soft curls.
For a moment, I merely looked at my reflection. I really wanted to make a good impression today, despite the awkward awakening. I poked at my rosy cheeks and examined my pores, being sure to wipe away any sleep from the corners of my eyes.
I fought a sigh and applied some mascara before walking out to meet the Weasleys. All the while, I tried to ignore the fact that if it was the least bit humid today, that spell would wear off at the snap of Mother Nature's twisted, sadistic fingers.
It turns out that I was right when I had assumed that this room was close to the kitchen. When I walked into the dining room, a fairly small group of people were sitting down and talking amongst themselves.
No one seemed to notice I had entered until a short, plump woman came into the room holding a large plate of pancakes. She was a full-bodied redhead with eyes like embers that crackled as she took me in, her cheeks red and weathered by age and delight. She was wearing a colourful apron caked with a light dusting of flour and a happy smile on her face as she flittered about, her red curls bouncing as she went, like a mother robin feathering her nest, making sure everything was in place.
She took a short glance at me and came to my side, juggling the plate. "Oh, Hermione dear. Did you get those two up? I know they're a hassle in the morning."
"Uh-h" I stuttered and blinked dumbly a few times.
Someone sitting at the table saved me by clearing their throat, catching the woman's attention. "Mum, that's not Hermione." I peered over the woman's stack of pancakes to see a boy grinning at me from his place at the table. "I'm George." He waved a curt wave to me with a half-smile.
"Elle," I said, embarrassed about the whole situation.
The woman turned to me with wide eyes and gave me a big hug. "Oh, hello dear! You must think I am a ditz. I'm Molly Weasley, welcome to my home." She grinned and released me to set the pancakes on the table.
George nodded approvingly but didn't say anything else. Rather, he merely watched me as he cut into his pancakes, his eyes studying me before smiling to himself as if something was funny. I arched a brow, ready to ask what was so funny, when another redhead at the table spoke up, drawing my attention.
It was then I realized just how outnumbered I was. I'd never seen so many redheads in a room at one time.
"Hello, I'm Ginny," the young girl waved to me. She seemed half asleep. I watched her head bob up and down as it perched on her fist, her eyelids drooping the longer the awkward introductions went on. Her hair was tied back with a leather strand to keep it out of her syrup, and like her brothers, her face was adorned with dark freckles, a stark contrast against her pale skin. She was the youngest in the room, but the dark circles under her eyes made her seem older.
Mr Arthur waved to me from across the table but seemed pretty much preoccupied with the Daily Prophet that was in his hands. "Good morning."
"I know you are a guest," Molly prefaced her coming question with a sheepish look, "but do you mind going upstairs and checking up on those three?" Molly asked, pleading with me. "They're on the third floor, the second door to your right, dear."
I jumped at the opportunity. "Of course, Mrs Weasley." Quickly, I left the dining room, kind of feeling out of place without Hermione there. As soon as I was a safe distance away, I let out a sigh of relief. It took me a second or three to find the staircase in the house, as I had actually never been in it before, but once I found it I was on track.
I climbed the three flights of stairs with a little difficulty, once I reached the top of the third staircase, however, I heaved a heavy sigh and groaned with my laboured breathing. "I need to start working out more."
Passing the first door, I came to a stop at the second, reaching out a hand to knock on it, but low voices could be heard from outside. I knew it wasn't the best thing to do, spy on your sister. But, she was my new, seriously a stranger to me, sister and I was too nosey for my own good.
"Harry, you should talk to Sirius." I heard Hermione advise Harry. "These dreams have got to mean something."
'Wait, did she say Sirius? As in Black? ' I cupped a hand over my mouth to quiet my breathing, inching closer to the wooden door, praying that it wouldn't creak and give me away. The word Sirius caught my immediate attention, remembering my Magical History classes last year. It had been a week-long topic, the escape of notorious mass-murderer Sirius Black. My professor had dedicated an entire essay to it too, which had been a pain in my side.
I know what they say about 'Those who eavesdrop', but this was too big to pass up.
"Hermione, they're just dreams." A voice, I assumed was Harry, spoke up. He sounded strained, his voice sleep-laden and annoyed by my sister's statement. "I don't want to bother him."
"He's your godfather Harry," Hermione whispered then sighed, "I'm just saying that you should at least think about it."
I gasped, I knew that it had blown my cover but I could not hold it in. Sirius Black?? He was Harry's Godfather?! Do you know how twisted that is?
The door sprung open to reveal, surprise surprise, yet another tall redhead. But, this one had an angry look on his face. I peered inside to see Hermione and the famous Harry Potter sitting on a bed and staring at me with wide eyes, insecure and caught off guard. The redhead's face changed from angry to confused, then surprised, as did Harry's. Meanwhile, Hermione's stayed the same: concerned and unsure.
You know that fight or flight instinct that movies and books talk about? Yeah, totally realistic.
Apparently, I'm a flyer.
I backed up a little and thought about running downstairs to pretend as if none of this happened. My feet took action before my brain even jolted and I bolted to the stairs; I had almost started my descent when Hermione's voice rang out from behind me, stuttering a bit. "Petrificus Totalus!"
I let out a small shriek when I lost my footing and started to fall down the stairs, even though I was not in control of my body, I could still feel the pain of falling down two flights of stairs. Before I started to fall down the last flight, was blocked by a wooden pole, which I hit my head roughly on and it caused me to blackout completely.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, you didn't have to go and kill 'er." I heard the redhead mutter before I succumbed to the darkness.
RON
I watched in horror as the girl, who looked like Hermione, tumbled down two flights of stairs. I can swear to you that I almost heard a crunching sound of a bone breaking as she ricocheted into the wooden pole.
Wincing, I jogged over to where she was lying frozen. "Bloody hell Hermione, you didn't have to go and kill 'er," I muttered, leaning over her body. Slowly, I picked her petrified form off of the ground and carried her back upstairs, me holding her arms and Harry joining in to help by grabbing her legs. It seemed I wasn't correct though, her features were a little jostled but nothing seemed broken or... bent in any wrong direction.
"Oh Godric, oh Merlin's beard." Hermione started to panic and paced around mine and Harry's room. "What have I done?!" She stopped for a moment and looked at the girl and once more started pacing again. "I-I just used magic outside of Hogwarts. I'll be expelled!"
"Ronald Weasley! What is going on up there?!" My mum called from downstairs. "We are leaving in a half-hour, so you'd better hurry your idle rump down here if you want any breakfast. Fred and George are devouring it all."
"Be down in a minute, Mum." I winced as I called to her, my voice sounded unusually high.
Harry examined the girl, confused. he took a slow step forward, bringing the bedside lamp closer to her as she lay limply on the bed. The light ignited her features and he and I shared a joint look of confusion. "Hermione, do you know this girl?"
My dad had said Hermione had been reunited with her long-lost sister. I just didn't actually... well, believe it until I saw her here.... unconscious.
Hermione just scoffed and continued pacing, looking extremely guilty about what happened. "She's my twin. I can't believe I did this to her. I'm awful." She leaned towards her sister to examine her nose.
"You don't think she's seriously injured, do you?" I asked, voice cracking.
"Godric, I hope not." Hermione lifted her sister's hands and bent her elbows, checking for any broken bones I would guess. "She's just got a bruise on her head.... this is all my fault."
"Yeah, you're right," I answered Hermione. "It is your fault."
Harry gave me a look and cleared his throat as if to say 'wrong timing.'
Hermione just sent a dark glare my way. "They're going to expel me! What am I going to do?"
"You were just thinking on your feet," Harry spoke up. Hermione began to shake her head, telling Harry that she was already going to be in trouble, but he shrugged her off. "Think of it this way, Hermione. She could've broken a nose or something. But, she didn't. You were just trying to protect me."
" 'Sides," I spoke up, scratching the back of my head. "There's a lot of wizards in this house right now. If Fred and George can sneak a couple of spells out here and there, I doubt they're gonna expel Hermione Granger, you're the brightest witch of our age for Merlin's sake.
Hermione bit her lip and frowned, eyes locked on mine with worry before looking at her sister. "Perhaps you're right."
"It's not so bad," Harry nodded. "It's good she's not awake, we can chat with her a little and clear things up. So, thanks, Hermione," he said.
Amidst the chaos, neither Harry, Hermione nor myself noticed a pair of sneaks creep up the stairs and into the room.
"Well well well, look what we--"
"-have here." Fred and George strolled right in and shook their heads in sync. Creepy bastards.
With his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, my older brother Fred bent close to Hermione's sister's face and examined the budding bump and accompanying bruise on her forehead, shaking his head as if ashamed at the sight. "Shame that. What did you do --"
"-- Send her down a flight of stairs?" George lifted up her hand then dropped it back down onto the mattress. It flopped down with a thump but she didn't seem to feel it.
"Gez, Elle's gonna feel that when she wakes up--ain't she George?" Fred pointed to the now fairly large bump protruding from 'Elle's' forehead. It was egg-shaped and purple and looked like it hurt an awful lot.
"Right you are, Fred. I bet it won't feel too good." George finished, then his face turned from joking to serious. "Honestly though, you three. Why did you try to kill the poor girl?"
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EDIT 8/6/14: Hey guys, so - many people have been having problems seeing chapters, if you don't see a chapter, please look in the comment section, I have posted it there. I hope this helps, enjoy.
(10-YA A/N: ) Hello again, these next few chapters are very short. So, I'll try to get another out today. I could always try to combine them, but I hate the history of comments that I would lose. One of the downsides of editing these all the way is how many chains of comments we've lost.
there was a lot of fun, 10-year long chains that definitely kept going.
Anyway, Happy Sunday!