* * *

Hattie still got the urges. She still craved the feeling of the ice cold blade skimming over her flesh and letting the scarlet blood trickle down like a soft tear. How could she not? It wasn't like an overnight affair meaning she was instantly cured of the years of self-loathing, death-yearning and numbing sensation. It was still a big part of her life and probably would be for the remainder of her time on earth despite her want to be better and to be back with her family.

Since Seamus' surprise visit Hattie was left pondering over everything, evaluating every nook and cranny. She found herself locked away her bedroom once more, the curtains remaining drawn and not a peep from her mouth was heard. Mr and Mrs Bumble didn't really know what to do, she seemed to have fallen back into her shell which did worry them but at the same time she had no access to anything that she could hurt heralded with so they decided to leave her to her own devices and alerted social services.

Helen Barton, Hattie's social worker joined the Bumbles' in their house clad in her usual pin-skirt, a dark red blouse and three-inch heels, with makeup covering her face, which seemed to be all she wore during every visit. This time, her lips were pursed and her jaw clenched; she could not have had a worse day for Hattie to cause her "troubles".

"So what exactly is the matter with Harriet? I have a busy schedule so if you could make it short that would be much appreciated," she snarked, her voice squeaky and intolerable much like that of Dolores Umbridge's.

Mr Bumble was not a fan of Barton's attitude very much and was not afraid to 'politely' respond to the woman. "Hattie," he emphasised, "seems to have become quiet and doesn't appear to what to leave her room."

"And how long has this been going on for?" Barton quizzed, an unimpressed, sardonic tone lacing her every word as she folded her arms across her chest and flicked her hair over shoulders.

Mrs Bumble shook her head, "three, four days tops. She was perfectly okay prior to that even during the day she-"

"Was she visited or contacted by anyone? If you have allowed anyone to contact er you are breaking the terms of this arrangement and there will be consequences," Barton cut Mrs Bumble off with an ultimatum which caused her to sink back in her seat, Mr Bumble taking her hands.

Mr Bumble shook his head, "not that we are aware of."

"I'll take that as a yes then, I will get Harriet to pack her things." Helen concludes, standing up and sucking her teeth. Mr Bumble rose to his feet in anger, she could not and he would not let her remove Hattie from there care. It was unfair that she had been taken from her family in the first place let alone moved on again.

"Brynn-" Mrs Bumble said, reaching out for her husband whose hands began to shake. Mr Bumble took his arm away.

"You cannot do that," he stated, "it's just a dip, we'll help her. We have done so already."

"You allowed her contact Mr Bumble!"

"I'll have you know, Helen, we did not allow any contact. We don't even know if she had contacted anyone so you have no reason to take away that young girl! This is unfair to her!"

Helen shook her head and barged past the man, storming out of the living room and up the stairs. She burst through Hattie's bedroom door to find it empty and the window wide open. The curtain was flowing back and forth in the breeze, a harsh wind hitting the social worker like a brick sending a wave of shivers down her body.

Mr and Mrs Bumble were hot on Barton's tail, coming into the room behind her to face the same scene. An empty bedroom. Bags gone. Clothes gone and most importantly - Hattie gone.

"You stupid woman!" Mrs Bumble cried towards Barton, her face red with anger. "She clearly heard you and scarpered! Hattie May be a young adult but she had missed out on her childhood and is still suffering from that! Did you really think packing her up and moving her away would help her? Call yourself a social worker! Get out of my house! Get! Out!"

* * *

"What are you doing Wendy?"

"You wanted me to come with you, Peter!" The girl cried, holding onto the branch of a tree on the outskirts of the woods close to the house.

The boy  shook his head and flew towards the young girl and scooped her up in his arms, placing her to sit on the branch rather than hang from it. He perched beside her, placing his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him.

"Not like this, Wendy, you can die!" He exclaimed picking out the branches from her raven curls and wiping the dirt from her face.

She looked down, "second star to the right and straight on til' morning," she mumbled fumbling with the hem of her night dress.

"You remember?"

"Peter I will always remember my way back to you. You mean more to me than anyone in the world."

"Really?"

The girl nodded her head and snuggled into the boys warm arms. A sigh left her lips as his pressed to her forehead leaving a soft burning sensation over it. 

"Always."

Hattie shot up. Her breathing was jagged as she shakily pushed her body up off of the ground. Blood stained the brown, soggy leaves beneath her body and her backpack pushed weight on her back causing her to groan as she sat up, her eyes heavy like potion cauldrons.

Her, now blue, lips quivered, tears slipping down her rosey cheeks. She couldn't remember her body giving up and her ending up in the ground of a patch of woodland. All she remembered was climbing out fo her bedroom window and running away from the Bumbles and Helen Barton.

She had run for days in end, a few breaks every so often, hiding in empty doorways or in foliage. The nights were freshly cold, much like Barton's heart, but the didn't deter Hattie. She needed to run. She couldn't lose anyone else. Not the Bumbles. Not Seamus. Not Remus. Not Sirius. And certainly not Charlie.

Not again.

Not ever again.

Hauling herself up the young adult pushed on. Her legs burned and she knew she had lost weight from the lack of food which was spiralling her health back down. Though, that was not her fault really, she didn't have time to get any food before she departed.

Branches cut her arms, her hands and her face as she didn't bother snapping prior to her rampaging through the masses. Her eyes blurred and her head banged but she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop.

A clearing was ahead of her, a bright sunny garden, a house further behind it. Stumbling through the gap in the fence, Hattie sprinted to the door. The white door that was now covered in dark mud and ruby red blood. She wrenched it backwards nearly ripping it from its hinges and bundled into the room which fell silent at the sight of the girl.

"Hattie?"

"It's me, dad."