Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, they're very encouraging! Sorry it's taking so long between updates, I'm an idiot and opted to take history over the summer so I wouldn't have to take it next year and it's taking up a lot of time with homework and everything, but it's almost over. Also, I rewrote this chapter a bunch of times and I'm still not sure if I like it, but I thought it was bad enough I had waited so long to update anyway, and being a picky perfectionist was only making the wait worse. So here it is!
Caged
Chapter Five
Today is Monday and the night is warm and the moon is bright. I am, of course, still trapped within the walls of my
bedroom. My balcony doors are wide open and so are my windows, allowing a gentle breeze to plow through every few
minutes. It's warm out and I feel the air inside my room is thick and constricted compared to the wonderful fresh
air outside.
These past fourteen days have been endless torture. I've tried everything I can to amuse myself, but I'm running out of ideas. With books restricted from me I've succumbed to lying on my back on the carpet of my floor and staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows of the tree outside my window move across the flat plane above me over the course of the day.
Meals are heavenly, they break up my day and give me reason to leave my room. I still eat alone, after Papa has finished his meal, in the dining room. Some days, Papa will have someone in his office to discuss business and he'll have my dinner sent up to me so I can't interact with anyone other than the members of this household. Such strict punishment seems entirely unnecessary to me, but then again, I'm the one who disobeyed my father.... Which, according to the rest of the world, means I'm wrong about everything else.
I can't tell you how many times I get scolded a day for leaving my room to go to the washroom. Sometimes when I need a change of scenery I'll walk down the hall, slowly, examining the portraits on the wall, the wallpaper, the carpet, the candles lining the corridor. Papa has caught on, realizing half the time I only go to the washroom, wash my hands and face and then return to my room, as it was only an excuse to leave it in the first place.
Yesterday, though, was Sunday and we went to church.
Papa kept the curtains closed during the ride and when we arrived at the chapel we sat in the very back and didn't speak to anyone before or afterwards.
During Reverend Sholt's long, aimless talking I found myself looking around the church, toward people my own age. When Papa realized that I wasn't paying attention he hissed at me, "Children like you should be listening to this."
I stared at the reverend for the remainder of the service. I went through the actions of caring and I acted like a good Christian.... But I wasn't hearing, seeing, taking in or comprehending anything. I thought about Papa and how much he detests me now, how he will never trust me again. I feel so foolish and horrible. And in the house of God I felt like the eyes of the true punisher were upon me. I'm a horrible child.
But why must Papa keep me on such a short chain? Why can't I have friends, why can't I spend time with people my own age? That's all I want! That's all I've ever wanted!
I'd return all the experiences I've had, all the things I've seen. I'd forget about riding elephants in India, seeing the pyramids of Egypt and the windmills of Holland, I'd give back the flowers I was given by the ensemble of the opera house in Paris for my birthday when I was ten, I'd return my viewing the Russian ballet and the Whirling Dervishes. I'd forget everything I've been through and all the amazing sights I've seen for just one friend. Only one.
But Papa's kept that from me. He's kept everything from me and me from everything.
And now I sit, ear pressed against my wall, listening to the silence of Papa's room. I've been like this since Mrs. Jacobs came in to say good night, indicating I'd better go to sleep or else. I sat in bed until I finally heard him come upstairs from his study. When I heard the room of his door close I moved quietly across the space and crouched against the far left wall. My knees were pressed uncomfortably against the corner between the wall and floor and my neck hurt from being turned for so long. But I listened to him pace back and forth for some time. The floor boards creak-creaked for almost twenty minutes before I heard him walk farther away. And then there was the squeaking groan of the bed springs.
I've waited almost an hour more and he's finally snoring lightly. The rest of the house is dead and I finally feel myself breathe.
I get up quietly and walk to my bedroom door. After opening it soundlessly I go down the hall and descend the stairs in my robe. I make my way outside, into the back garden and sit down on a cool, stone bench. The sky seems so much more vast and lovely when you've been locked away from it for so long. I enjoy the feel of the breeze, the sound of the birds, the rustling of the trees, and the feel of the grass between my toes. I only wish I didn't have to enjoy it in secret, alone.
An hour or so passes and I sit in perfect contentment. I let my mind wander, go blank, and trail away from me. I don't worry about anything. I feel myself at ease for the first time in what seems like my entire life. And I reflect on this wonderful feeling, until I hear voices and the shuffle of feet outside the garden wall.
"Harry, my mum is going to kill me if she finds that I've snuck-"
"Ron," a second voice cuts the first off. "Don't you want to find out who she is?"
A pause, then, "No."
A sigh.
"Who cares, she's just some girl!" 'Ron' says. "Some rich girl who ran away for a bit because she was bored."
I hold my breath, pressing myself against the ivy-covered wall as they continue speaking. I hear them stop walking, right in front of the locked iron gate that leads into the garden. Luckily I'm hidden in the adjacent corner and even though they're peering in they can't quite see me in the shadows.
The first voice, Harry, speaks again, "But Snape's her teacher! How is that possible?"
Snape?
Are they talking about me? They must be, they're outside MY gate. Who are they though? Their voices sound vaguely familiar- My friends! I mean, the boys I met at the park! But not the girl. How did they find out where I live? My heart speeds up, an excitement so intense unleashes itself within me and I feel dizzy.
"Oh Harry, so? Maybe she's a home-schooled witch."
Why are they calling me a witch again? Was it because I broke into their conversation that first day?
"That can't be, Ron-"
"Why not?"
Another beat of silence, "Because," Harry says, "She didn't know what Hogwarts was, remember?"
"That doesn't mean anything!"
"Any witch or wizard would know what Hogwarts was," Harry declares.
The other boy grunts, "Who cares if she's a muggle and is tutored by Snape- What difference is that to us?"
"I just want to find out who she is."
There's a sigh and then one of them mutters something I can't understand. But, remarkably, the gates are unlocked and they walk into the garden.
My back goes rigid and my eyes widen.
"I don't think breaking and- Oh no," the redhead says as they turn and spot me.
"Don't scream," the raven-haired boy says. "We don't mean any harm."
I'm terrified, partly because this is so new to me, talking to people my age, and also, they're two boys, and I'm a girl, we're alone. In the garden. And I'm only in my nightgown and a robe.
"I wasn't going to," I say, far more shakily than I would have liked.
He nods, "Do you remember us?"
I nod, "From the park."
"You got in trouble for talking to us," the redhead points out.
"I know, I ran away from the carriage without permission," I confess. I might as well own up to my mistakes.
The ginger haired boy shrugs, "Bored, were you?"
He's elbowed by the other boy.
I shake my head, "Actually- Papa keeps me locked up a lot, I haven't really ever talked to anyone my age and I thought- I figured I would talk to you."
"He doesn't let you talk to anyone?" the shorter boy asks. "At all?"
"No one."
"Would we die if he found out we were here?"
"We'd all die."
The red haired boy looks anxious, the other one smiles softly at me, "I'm Harry," he says. "And this is Ron."
I smile, "I'm Hermione."
"Harry," Ron looks toward the open gate. "We should go."
"You're right," Harry replies. "We wouldn't want you to get in trouble-"
"No!" I whisper quite loudly. "Oh please, just talk with me a little more, please."
"What about your father?"
The anger is building inside me. I hate him. I hate my father. How could he make me so miserable? How can he be so selfish? Doesn't he care at all about me, doesn't he want me happy at all-
Suddenly a loud, gusty wind pushes me from behind and I stumble a little. I look up and see, right before my eyes, the iron gate doorway vanishes completely. Harry and Ron whip around and look at it, astounded. They turn back to me and as my anger is replaced by shock, the gateway returns.
I gasp, covering my wide open mouth with my hands.
Harry grins at Ron.
"Why are you grinning?" I demand.
"You're a witch," he says to me.
I stomp my foot, "Stop calling me that!"
"You can do magic."
I shake my head, "What are you talking about."
"Who's there?" I hear our butler, Spencer, shout groggily from somewhere above our heads.
We duck down and Harry and Ron move to leave, "No!" I hiss. "What do you mean I can do magic!"
They exchange a look with one another, "We have to go! Someone knows we're here!"
I grab Harry's arm, "No, please don't leave me!"
I know I sound desperate, but I am, I can't be alone anymore. I can't stand it.
"Who's there?!" Spencer shouts again, and I see a light seep dimly from the window above our heads, the washroom.
"We have to go-"
I pull him back, "What did you mean I could do magic?"
"Wednesday night, at the same time, we'll come back and explain everything to you, all right?" Harry says with a caring smile.
I nod, swallowing. Two days. I have to bear two lonely days. I can endure two days.
"We'll see you then." And they run out of the gate, and down the street. I deftly move to the gate and lock it behind them.
After the light in the washroom is ignited and all is quiet I creep upstairs and back into my room, where I lay on my bed, thinking. Why did the gate vanish? Is this like the time the door fell off its hinges of its own accord in Italy? Papa had gotten angry with me then.... And then we had moved to Austria. But why? I hadn't caused the door to fall.... Had I? Harry and Ron are claiming it was me who made the gate vanish tonight. But how is that possible? How could a gate simply vanish and then return.
My head is spinning and I shut my eyes tight. Maybe I'm going mad. I smile to myself though, I have friends. If going mad means I have two friends, I don't think I want to be sane.
Author's Note: Reviews are very much appreciated! Next update will be sooner!