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Ch. 2: Awkward Pancakes

Posted at 12 AM 3/15/14 - because I love you (sorry if it is short)

Dedicated to SaskiaRose: 'You probably won't even consider this, but what's the risk in asking? I was wondering if you could start Granger Danger on the 7th of March? It's my 15th birthday, and I love your stories and I thought maybe I could ask, though most likely the answer will be no, Ahaha. Have a lovely day, and your stories are amazing!! Xxo'

Awe, hun! I loved your comment so much, and I really really was trying to get this chapter out for you as a SURPRISE/HAPPY 15th! But, sadly my whole month has been SUPER hectic! Anyway, I really hope that you had a brilliant 15th, that's the start of becoming an adult you know ;) 

Also - Special shout out to HarryPotterlover3 - Happy Birthday to you too hun, and this one is actually on your birthday. 

Love you all so much, really - xxJess

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Song for Chapter: Young Volcanoes - Fall Out Boy

Ch. 2: Awkward Pancakes

      There was a thick, heavy silence as the sound of forks and knives scraped chipped plates. The stench of musk and mildew slightly permeated the air and I had this annoying twitch on the back of my neck that only seemed to be brought on by the awkward silence.

     Peering over at me from across the table, was none other than Sirius Black - famed mass murderer/somehow friend to Dumbledore. It didn't make sense. Clearly, I was still delusional from my coma. 

     The twitch in the back of my neck increased every minute his black eyes were trained on me. I was about to snap at him but retracted myself -- glaring down at the empty, slightly dirty plate set in front of me.

A low grumbling sensation gargled at the pit of my stomach, but I refused to voice this to Black, no doubt he would most likely poison my food anyway. Stupid Elle, believing Fred. He was going to be the reason I die.

     Lifting his silver fork to his mouth, Sirius hungrily shovelled fried ham down his throat, eyes twinkling slightly at the fact that my own gaze refused to move off his for even the tiniest millisecond. "You really don't trust me, do you?"

"No." 

     Sirius Black set his fork down and scratched at the bridge of his nose, brow furrowed with concern. "Well, that's fair -- I must admit." He sighed, seeming to be a little putout. 

     I wouldn't let that act fool me. He wouldn't win me over; I refused to allow myself to trust him. All I wanted was someone to be here, someone I knew who was sane enough to explain it all to me. So far, he hadn't even told me where I was. 

     "Would you like some food?"

     "No," I repeated emotionlessly. Sirius's face contorted for a minute, looking as if he was trying to figure out if I had gone dumb in my coma. He probably thought the only thing I could remember how to say was: No. To clear any doubt, I scowled at him, crossed my arms over my chest, and rephrased myself. "I'm not hungry. Thank you, though."

      He belted out a short laugh, pushing his plate aside so he could put his elbow on the table. His black hair was on and wavy, brushing his shoulders in unkempt fashion. His face seemed tired, and worn. On his chin, a beard was sprouting long and neat. Though he seemed aged and tired, I assessed that he wasn't too old. Yet, greys littered his complexion.  

      Resting his head in his calloused palm, Sirius watched me intently. "That's a damned lie if I ever heard one." However he did not protest my refusal to eat, instead he smirked a little, eyes smoldering slightly. "So, you're Hermione's twin. That would be hard to believe if you weren't a carbon copy of her."

I fought the bubbling sensation to reply to his comment, I had been trying my hardest to keep minimal conversation going between the two of us; however, my curiosity was getting the better of me. Just like it always does. "I don't know what you mean..." I hissed out, pursing my lips. I was now furious at myself for stooping so low, but he was an interesting man; no one could deny that.

      Sirius's smirk transformed into a full-blown grin and he sat up straighter in his wooden chair. "Ah! There it is, I see her more in you now -- that pursed lip scowl. Hermione had that same look towards me the first few weeks she was here." 

     "I don't do that like she does!" I blurted out, horrified. I had seen that annoyed look on Hermione's face before. It wasn't pleasant, in fact, it was my least favourite face she had. It glowed with 'know-it-all' and 'authority'. "Take it back." 

"Why should I? You have done nothing but be very rude to me this whole time you've been conscious. I think I deserve a joke or two, don't you?" He rolled his eyes at me, pointing to the fairly large bump on his head. 

"You are a mass murder." I tore my eyes away from him, showing him no pity.

Even though I couldn't see him, I felt the smile slip off of his face as the atmosphere changed towards a more somber one. "That's what they say."

      "And let me guess, you will tell me that isn't true." My eyes wandered back to his, but he had returned to stabbing the now-cold ham on his plate. I watched the food warily, the grumbling in my stomach reaching a new octave. It caught Sirius's attention. 

     "Well," he shifted in his chair, changing the subject, "I will tell you that you are most definitely starving. And if you don't eat something, there is a good chance you will lapse back into your coma. You need nutrients to stay awake. How do you think you have been surviving this whole time?"

Frowning, I looked around the decrepit manor in confusion. "Honestly, I have not the slightest clue - you haven't told me any thing. My head is killing me it throbs so bad, and I have a massive hankering for pancakes."

"Pancakes? Really." He grinned a little, the tight skin around his eyes crinkling a little making me think that it had been a while since he had seen the sun. He was obviously a fugitive from the Ministry - and if Dumbledore believed he was innocent - why didn't Fudge?

       Snapping his fingers, Sirius called out loudly into the empty air: "Kreacher!" There was a slow moment or two with no response, then suddenly, there was a loud popping sound filling the air. An old house-elf, hunched over with a large, floppy nose and looking as decrepit as the manor itself, materialized inside the dining room.

     "Kreacher is at your service... master." He hissed lowly, marble-like eyes sweeping around the room and landing on me with sudden distaste and hatred. "Kreacher sees you have defiled the Mistress's house once more with the presence of... Mudbloods."

       My blood cooled at this statement; fighting the urge to yell at the house-elf for being inconsiderate, I clamped my mouth shut as Sirius did it for me. 

       "You will not talk to my guests that way Kreacher!" He blurted angrily, causing me to shrink back against my chair in fear. He was terrifying, if the rumours about him were not true - I could still see how some would believe them wholeheartedly.

        Clearing his throat, Sirius spared me a softer look and then turned back to the scowling Kreacher. "Please, make Miss Granger some pancakes. Clean pancakes - if I find you have done anything to them - you will not like me."

"Kreacher already doesn't like you." Kreacher snapped quickly then disappeared with a pop, making me feel a mix of humor and fear. Kreacher was most definitely nothing like the other house-elves I had met before. He was dark, old, and rickety - just like this ancient home. It made me wonder how long he had actually lived in this dreary place.

Silence settled in once again, and awkward tension swooped in making me curl my legs up to my torso to feel warmer. My torso burned with the bandaids pressing against my skin tightly, keeping my skin together after my stitches has ripped. They were practically almost healed, so it was not needed to get them resewn. 

Minutes passed, then Kreacher reappeared, sliding my chipped plate back over to me with steaming, blueberry pancakes sitting innocently on top like a peace offering. Too bad I knew that the house-elf already hated me - so a peace offering would be the last thing on the little devil's mind. "Thank you, Kreacher." I murmured, but he ignored me with a snarl - disappearing to somewhere in the house.

"Don't mind him. He's not social - I blame my Mother for that - he was always more partial to her." Sirius growled, shaking his head and examining my plate with careful eyes. "They look normal enough - go ahead and eat up."

Frowning, I took my fork and stabbed through the fluffy breakfast foods, burrowing my fork halfway into the large stack. "I'm not really hungry - I just would like to get some more sleep."

"You will." Sirius nodded, eyes trailing over to the wall opposite me, as if he was staring into a distant place. "You just need to eat something before hand - if anything happens to you, I'll be the one paying for it. Trust me."

"I don't." My hands twitched nervously, the tension was building inside this room. I wouldn't lie to the murderer. Even if he did seem like a nice guy - I'd grown up reading his crimes in school - he'd made quite the name for himself, and unfortunately my old school required us to brush up on current topics. Mass murder was not something easily over looked.

"Yes, well my reputation betrays me, unfortunately. But possibly you will begin to trust me later on - I can see us becoming great friends Elizabeth Granger." The way he spoke told me that he knew a lot more about my past than I did concerning him. This was probably true anyway, I'd only just waken up from a coma while Sirius had months to learn about me from others like Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys.

     "How do you figure that?"

     Sirius grinned a little and motioned for me to eat. Rolling my eyes, I shovelled some pancakes into my mouth and chewed, savouring the buttery taste paired with the tangy blueberries. If these were poisoned, it would almost be worth it. 

"Well, your boyfriend did tell me a lot about you." He only replied, sipping some pumpkin juice.

Coughing a little, I got a small chunk of blueberry caught in my throat for a second or two; causing my eyes to water and me to gasp for much desired air. "B-Boyfriend?!"

Sirius rose a heavy brow, looking me over slowly. "You are Fred's girl... Aren't you?"

"Fred told you I was 'his girl'?!" I stabbed my pancakes a little harsher, making an unnecessarily deep cut into them. "Typical." I rolled my eyes, shoveling the bite into my mouth even though it was much too big. 

"So, you are not." 

Pausing to carefully chew the mound of food in my mouth, I contemplated the thought carefully. The last thing I could remember about the relationship status between Fred and I was him declaring to his family that I was his girlfriend. Blushing a little, I looked down at my half eaten pancakes and smiled to myself. "Well... I guess I am..."

"Hm, well then - he has told me a lot about you. He's actually the reason I am force feeding you - he was worried that you were getting too skinny. Have you even looked in the mirror yet?" Sirius rose a brow at me, trying to hold back a chuckle for my sake - but it was obviously a very tough thing for him to accomplish.

Scowling at the indirect insult, I stuffed my face with the last of the pancakes and gave him a frown. "No, actually - I'm too worried about being murdered."

"Can't we go five minutes with out you talking about how I'm a notorious mass murderer?" He hissed, standing up from the table with a groan.

Standing up as well, I folded my hands together and gave him a serious look over. He was skinny, too skinny. And pale, too pale as well. "I don't know - are you?"

     "No. I am not a mass murderer." He snapped, then spared me one last look before walking out of the room. "You'd better get yourself cleaned up - you will be taken to Hogwarts as soon as you feel up to it, Elle."

       Sighing, I pushed my long hair behind my ear, realizing for the first time since I had woken up that it was a lot longer than I had last remembered it. Taking Sirius's words to heart, I walked into the same bathroom I had earlier sought refuge in and took a long look in the mirror. What I saw made me want to immediately scrub myself clean.

     Dying. That was the first word that not only came to mind when I looked at myself, but was more like screaming at me. In the mirror was a short, skinny girl with sunken eyes and cheek bones. Her collarbones popped out to the point that it was practically unnatural and her fingers were long and wiry. The nails on her long fingers were claws, untrimmed and unruly - that would be the next thing I would have to fix.

     As for the other things, my shoulder-length brown hair had outgrown - spreading from my shoulders to the middle of my torso. It was too long. That too would need to be chopped off along with the bag lady nails. 

Groaning at the shell of my old self in the mirror, I fumbled around with the shower nobs until the water flowed a steady mild temperature ad I could hop in comfortably. Being too weak to stay standing for long, I crumpled into a heap on the bathtub floor, clothes and all, and begun to have a mini freak out. 

I was having a melt down. 

     Flashes of bright reds and greens were blurring my vision every time I closed my eyes. I could remember every little horrifying detail of what happened before I had passed out from the overwhelming pain. I traced my fingers over the faint burn marks trailing all over my legs and arms. Even though they were barely noticeable, every touch I put on them sent another wave of tears pouring from my eyes.

     Lana. 

What happened to Lana?

I was in there for the longest time. I couldn't move. I couldn't feel. I couldn't think. I was a statue. All I could bring myself to do was cry. Cry and wonder where my life was heading. I was I doomed to die in this place? Had one of my most treasured friends died trying to protect me and Harry Potter? Was it my fault? I forgot my wand that night, I should have brought it.

Curling up into a tight ball, I let the world pass me by. Sirius didn't come to check on me, he gave me the respect I needed - I liked my privacy.

"Where is she?" I heard a familiar voice sigh outside my door. 

Sirius grunted as there was a slight creaking against the bathroom door, but I made no motion to move from the ball I'd been curled in for the past few hours. No doubt my skin was pruned and sad from the onslaught of water, but I couldn't bring my self to care. "She's been in there for a while now."

The door creaked open and the sound of timid footsteps approached the bathtub, then yanked the shower curtain back to reveal me sitting in my nightie - soaked to the bone and shivering under the now freezing water - I'd used up all the hot water. "Elle."

'Finally'. I thought peering up at them, trying to smile but failing miserably. 'A familiar face'.

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