Drabble Reading #9: Is Something Wrong?
Title: Is Something Wrong?
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language
Word Count: 497
Written for Challenge #9 atdramione_ldws
Something Wicked This Way Comes: must have a dark or spooky theme
Is Something Wrong?
The sound. She could feel it in her skull. Scratching at the backs of her eyes.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Hermione stood inside her doorway with her wand out. Listening.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Scratching, or scraping. Coming from the back of the house.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Her revealing spell revealed nothing.
The wards were breached.
A Death Eater? A thief? Something worse? She crept through the dark foyer towards the living room, her heart beating hard and breath caught in her throat.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
How many were there? How would she get help?
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
She stepped into the room quickly. Silently. Wand shaking.
No one.
But…
Her books. They were…out. And open. Hermione’s brow wrinkled in confusion.
Not dropping her wand arm, she crept over to the open books, that sound still floating through the air.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
There must have been fifteen of them, on the couch, on the desk, on the floor. She scanned those closest and her heart sank.
Blood. They were all open to sections with “Blood” in the title. What…?
A soft bump in the hallway caught her attention and she whipped her head around.
Oh God.
Holding her arm out straighter, she went slowly towards the dark hallway, stopping again around the corner.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
It was a little louder now, but there were no other noises.
Hermione cast a lumos and peered down the long corridor. There was nothing. She checked the ceiling… the far corners… down the walls… Her heart skipped.
Blood.
Small spots of blood smeared above the baseboard, and a black spot that looked like a burn mark, and then… another smear of blood.
The fine hairs on her arms stood on end. And that sound…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
The bathroom. It was coming from the bathroom.
She placed her trembling hand on the knob and turned slowly.
Her heart stopped.
Draco. In the bathtub. Body limp. Lips blue.
He was…dead.
She screamed.
The dead body jolted up and screamed back.
She screamed harder.
“GRANGER STOP!”
“But, but…”
“Merlin, Granger, you sure know how to spoil a man’s bath.”
She blinked.
Draco stood up and flicked his wand at the record player he had set on the counter. The sound stopped.
“Look what I found. It’s muggle,” he said proudly, nodding at the record player and wrapping a towel around his waist.
She stared in disbelief, shaking with a building rage.
“Oh, and your stupid orange flea ball has been torturing little mice. I tried to find a spell to get the blood up, but nothing worked,” he continued obliviously.
“Oh yeah, and I ate one of your popsicles. Raspberry, I think.”
That put her over the edge.
“Draco! You…you spoiled… house-elf dependent… arrogant… ASS! Arrrgggh!”
He quirked an amused eyebrow. “Is something wrong, Granger?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re just lucky my stupid orange flea ball doesn’t eat ferret!” she threatened before stomping out.
(I had a little help on the sound effects, thanks to Mr. Ilke. No way I was going to try to make that sound myself!)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language
Word Count: 497
Written for Challenge #9 atdramione_ldws
Something Wicked This Way Comes: must have a dark or spooky theme
Is Something Wrong?
The sound. She could feel it in her skull. Scratching at the backs of her eyes.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Hermione stood inside her doorway with her wand out. Listening.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Scratching, or scraping. Coming from the back of the house.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Her revealing spell revealed nothing.
The wards were breached.
A Death Eater? A thief? Something worse? She crept through the dark foyer towards the living room, her heart beating hard and breath caught in her throat.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
How many were there? How would she get help?
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
She stepped into the room quickly. Silently. Wand shaking.
No one.
But…
Her books. They were…out. And open. Hermione’s brow wrinkled in confusion.
Not dropping her wand arm, she crept over to the open books, that sound still floating through the air.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
There must have been fifteen of them, on the couch, on the desk, on the floor. She scanned those closest and her heart sank.
Blood. They were all open to sections with “Blood” in the title. What…?
A soft bump in the hallway caught her attention and she whipped her head around.
Oh God.
Holding her arm out straighter, she went slowly towards the dark hallway, stopping again around the corner.
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
It was a little louder now, but there were no other noises.
Hermione cast a lumos and peered down the long corridor. There was nothing. She checked the ceiling… the far corners… down the walls… Her heart skipped.
Blood.
Small spots of blood smeared above the baseboard, and a black spot that looked like a burn mark, and then… another smear of blood.
The fine hairs on her arms stood on end. And that sound…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
Krisssshh. Kritch…
The bathroom. It was coming from the bathroom.
She placed her trembling hand on the knob and turned slowly.
Her heart stopped.
Draco. In the bathtub. Body limp. Lips blue.
He was…dead.
She screamed.
The dead body jolted up and screamed back.
She screamed harder.
“GRANGER STOP!”
“But, but…”
“Merlin, Granger, you sure know how to spoil a man’s bath.”
She blinked.
Draco stood up and flicked his wand at the record player he had set on the counter. The sound stopped.
“Look what I found. It’s muggle,” he said proudly, nodding at the record player and wrapping a towel around his waist.
She stared in disbelief, shaking with a building rage.
“Oh, and your stupid orange flea ball has been torturing little mice. I tried to find a spell to get the blood up, but nothing worked,” he continued obliviously.
“Oh yeah, and I ate one of your popsicles. Raspberry, I think.”
That put her over the edge.
“Draco! You…you spoiled… house-elf dependent… arrogant… ASS! Arrrgggh!”
He quirked an amused eyebrow. “Is something wrong, Granger?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re just lucky my stupid orange flea ball doesn’t eat ferret!” she threatened before stomping out.
(I had a little help on the sound effects, thanks to Mr. Ilke. No way I was going to try to make that sound myself!)