Granger Danger ⇗ Fred Weasley

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.