A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers- it is very sweet that you could all review my stories, even if they were flames. So, I contemplated this next part alot but this is really bad so be nice :). Anyhow, I hope you think it is okay... I am really dead today and can't write. Oh ya also I alwayz have spelling errors so you can tell me. I think I type these too fast! Oh well. R/R anyways.
*~Lana Weasley~* (aka Ron's G/f or wife... lol Moony and Padfoot)
__________________________________________________________________________
Harry smiled. It was not like him to be so spontaneous. Hermione, after taking a minute to get the thought to click into her mind, looked up at Harry with a surprized look in her eyes. This, though, is what had been expected of her.
"Harry! You are being very impulsive! We hardly know eachother, Honestly! I mean, we only met about two days ago! Well, I sure think this is impulsive."
"No, Hermione, it isn't!" Harry explained. "I mean, we met UP two days ago, but we met a matter of YEARS ago. Don't you understand, Hermione? It is not impulsive! It is a matter of if you really love me or not."
Hermione bent over and kissed him."I am going to marry you, Harry Potter." Hermione said over and over.
***
Ron, being as he was a mind reader, knew what had just happened.
"HARRY! You are the luckiest man this city has heard of! If you were a girl, I'd kiss you!" he screamed aloud. Jealous as Ron was, he really adored Harry's keen sense for women and his kindness. Harry's proposal may not have been what could be called romantic, but in Ron's opinion, it was good enough. Just getting the woman to say yes was Ron's concern right now. Well, actually, he still went girlfriend-less, but nonetheless he still had high hopes for a girl named Alana Love. Pretty and entertaining, Ron had his eye on her since she moved to the city, which, mind you, was 2 years ago. As Ron lay thinking about his girlfriend trouble, he fell into a deep sleep.
***
He awoke to find himself inside a dark room. Where was he? He dashed about the room, looking left and right for a door, but there seemed to be none. If there was no door, how did he get in? Though the walls were painted a slate-grey color, they seemed almost transparent. He gazed sleepily through each wall, mezmorized by the beautiful color he saw just beyond the room he was in. He needed to get into that color-filled room! He just had to! He looked and saw Hermione and Harry hand-in-hand waving at him. But their stares seemed almost as if they had not been of this world. They were ghost-like even. Their images melted away like ice placed in a warm oven. Ron thought to himself, am I being tortured? All of these beautiful things, and I am just so far enough away as so I cannot reach them. But only barely.
Suddenly, 3 men apparated into the room. Each was wearing a silky black cape. They were all hooded. Ron could not make out their faces. Even though the faces were unclear, Ron sensed danger. These men scared him- the fact that he couldn't make out their faces scared him the most. He tried to apparate away but found his apparating skills had dissapeared completley. He was so horrified.
One of the men grabbed Ron's shoulder. The pressure was so great that Ron squealed aloud. Another man grabbed Ron's collar. The last of the three men held out his hand and said something strange- something Ron could not make out. What this saying had turned out to be was a simple spell for magiking up a door. Damn! Ron thought. Why couldn't he have spoken a tad louder?
Ron had expected to be brought through the colorful room. But he was wrong. And, on top of not going through the beautiful room, Ron was brought through a set of terribly murky dungeons. Glancing up at the men clutching his arm, he reached up and attempted to pull down one of their hoods'.
Without warning, the man whacked Ron's trembling hand out of the way and spit out a bubbling green substance from his mouth which was aimed right at Ron. The substance hit him in the eye and he felt a burning sensation as if his eyeballs were being disected peace by peace. It was so awful that he almost cried.
The men brought him into a long, dark hallway. After what seemed like hours of walking, the men halted in front of a large, brass door. It was gold with silver shimmering dots. It was so beautiful yet so surreal. It was like a mirage. As one of the figures touched the door, it melted away and Ron was led into a narrow, dark hallway filled with cells. Covering the cells were bars that were thick enough to kill. Now Ron realized where he was. He was in Azkaban.
***
Harry kissed Hermione once more and than looked up at her face. He began to speak but Hermione, in a hushed voice said, "don't speak, Harry." Harry quickly shot a glance away from her. He loved her so much, yet she intimidated him so. She seemed to overpower his abilites, though he knew quite well that no one could dodge a bludger and catch a snitch the way that he could. No, it wasn't that. She intimidated him in another way, a way which made Harry feel so small and nievè. She was like a mother and Harry was the child. But Harry liked it that way.
"Kiss me, mommy! Im scared!" Harry said aloud.
"What in the world..."
"Uh, nothing. I mean... I love you Hermione."
"Okay-"
Harry felt stupid. His face flashed a brilliant pink and he hid it under one of his mauve pillows.
***
As Ron was led into narrow hallways and leaky passages, he began to feel afraid so as to the point where he could not take it anymore. His feet grew tired as well as his body from walking. Many times he tried to apparate but it seemed as if this great force was holding him back. Maybe something WAS keeping him from going anywhere. This was, afterall, Azkaban.
Abrubtly, the men stopped and chucked his weakened body into a dreery cell. They walked away, seeming so incredibly satisfied. It disgusted Ron. These men were so vindictive. What assholes they were.
As Ron opened his mouth to say something, he remembered that he was in Azkaban and that these were dementors that he was dealing with- so he felt he better off say nothing at all. He sat on the damp floor to think for a bit. How did he get in Azkaban? What had he done in his life that was worth this torture for? Sure there was the time where he had made the giant squid at Hogwarts go blind- but if that was so illeagal, than why had he only gotten detention with Filch? And, if he were to become a prizoner of Azkaban for that, then why hadn't he gone sooner? So maybe he had done some pretty bad things in his lifetime, but were any bad enough to get him here? And did he even get a trial? It seemed not.
Ron shivered and looked up. He desprately wanted to be with humanity. In a nearby cell, a short, balding man leaned over and a purple liquid came squirting out of his nose holes. Ron felt sick.
***
Outdoors was rainy and cold. The air was foggy and the night was frightening. But in Harry's apartment and in his arms, Hermione felt safe. She loved Harry so much- she always loved him. He was always her baby. And now, she had everything that she ever wanted. She had her loved one, a warm apartment, and a glass of butterbeer to top things off. What else could one want? She embraced him against her chest and began kissing his forehead.
She kissed him as if she were a mother comfoting her little child.
***
A few sharp pains bolted through Ron's body. He couldn't deal with this. Not today, not now. Why in the world could he be here?
Again, 3 pains shot through his almost-dead corpse as he lay on the freezing concrete floors of his cell. Was this some kind of torture? He kept massaging his body parts yet the pains kept coming- it felt to him that he was being hit with the cruciatus curse.
He was.
***
Hemione suddely bolted upright. She had fallen into a deep sleep and was having a horrible nightmare- Harry and She were at some strange place, and Harry had fallen into a bottomless pit. She couldn't see him, but she could hear his crys of fear as he grasped on to anything that was possible. She was so frightened. She had thought he was dead. But when the warmth of his hand intertwined with hers, she knew that he was alright.
Looking into his eyes, she reached out and touched his hair. It was ruffled and scruffy-looking but the farmiliarity warmed her heart to the extent. She chuckled aloud and laid her head back on his lap. She drifted back to sleep happily.
***
Ron, in extreme pain, managed to get himself to stand up and look for the source of the curse. It seemed as if the pain was coming from the air; not a living, breathing, human being, which scared him very much so. Almost instantly, a man approached who didn't seem to be a dementor. But if he wasn't a dementor, who was he? He was muddering something that was obviosely the curse that Ron was experiencing. He was so terrified, but he had nothing to say, nothing to do. What could he do, anyway? Yell at the man? Ask him what the hell he was doing there? Of course not. But if he wasn't a dementor...
It seemed that hours went by before the man actually stopped talking and approached Ron's cell. Unfortunately for Ron, it was only a matter of minutes. The man came into Ron's vision carrying a long, brown pole that looked like a tree branch. Was it? Maybe. He came closer, never taking his glare away from Ron's, and clicking his pole up and down. Up and down. Up and down. It made Ron sleepy to look at it. He tried to tair his eyes away from the man, but they seemed to be glued to him. This, if anything, must've been torture.
As the man stepped closer and closer to the cell, he began to hold out his stick and swing it around in great circles. He finally stopped abrubtly and stared straight into Ron's retinas. It was so mezmorizing.
The man spoke, "Avara Kadavara!" and pointed his mangled wand to Ron's heart.
***
Harry and Hermione made out on Harry's hardwood floor for a half an hour. When they finally tore apart, Harry was sweating and Hermione was trembling. Hermiones eyes were fixated on Harry's forehead and she opened her mouth wide.
Harry's scar was pulsating. It pumped in and out of his forehead as if it were a heart beating in the palm if Hermiones head. She felt as if she were about to throw up. "Harry!" she said quickly, burying her face in his lap. "Harry, is your scar hurting?"
"No, why?"
"Uhh, look in the mirror."
Harry stood up and glanced into the mirror. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Hermione, it looks as it always does."
"What?"
"It looks as it always does."
"No, look, it is pulsating!"
"No its not..."
"But it is!"
"Umm, no, actually, its not."
"Huh?"
Harry turned around and Hermione gaped at his forehead. There was not a pulsating scar there. She must've been imagining things. This was too weird.
***
Ron leaped up high in the air. The moment he had heard the words, "Avara Kadavara!" He had immedietly recognized it as the killing curse. The man again yelled this curse at him, but Ron was quick and sly and dodged the curse each time it flew past his way. Finally, the man gave up and said to him in a growly voice, "I may not have gotten you this time, but I will get you sometime!" And with that, the man stormed away saying only one more thing, "Cruciatus."
For the next couple hours, Ron was in agony. Everything on him pained and ached rechidly (A/N okay, dont tell me thins is not spelled right cuz I know!) The cruciatus curse that was put on him was made not to kill so poor Ron was in horrid pain for the next three hours. When the curse was finally taken off, Ron thought he was going to die. "That bastard..." he murmured. His voice was pathetically weak, and every bone in his body seemed to be broken. After 10 minutes, a scruffling noise was heard at the end of the hall. Ron peered out through the bars on his cell and down the murky hall. Three dementors were coming nearer and nearer with someone tangled among their arms. It was a woman who was wiggling about and trying to break free. "I havn't done anything!" she sqealed and pinched one of the dementors arms. Ron thought that the girl must've had some bravery and nerve among her to do that to a dementor. Finally, the three dementors and the woman halted in front of his cell. One dementor stepped forward and uttered a word which magiked a key into his hand. He unlocked the cell and chucked the woman in. Ron was too weak to try and stand up to escape. And even if he had the strength, he wouldn't be able to make it out without being caught. The woman was still persistant. She kept screaming, "let me out!!!" until the dementors finally used a simple spell to throw her against the wall. She sriveled but still could stand up. "I am telling you, I didn't do it!" The dementors walked away. Ron guessed that they had satisfied looks on their faces, but couldn't tell seeing as he still could not see their faces.
The woman stuck out her hand to the weak and trembling Ron. "Hullo!" she said. She sounded happier than usual for being in Azkaban and all. "well, I guess we are, uh, cell-mates!"
"Ya." Ron said weakly. The woman's voice sounded farmiliar. He finally got the strength to look up at her face. He gasped when he saw her farmiliar smile and forlorn eyes.
It was Narcissa.
*~Lana Weasley~* (aka Ron's G/f or wife... lol Moony and Padfoot)
__________________________________________________________________________
Harry smiled. It was not like him to be so spontaneous. Hermione, after taking a minute to get the thought to click into her mind, looked up at Harry with a surprized look in her eyes. This, though, is what had been expected of her.
"Harry! You are being very impulsive! We hardly know eachother, Honestly! I mean, we only met about two days ago! Well, I sure think this is impulsive."
"No, Hermione, it isn't!" Harry explained. "I mean, we met UP two days ago, but we met a matter of YEARS ago. Don't you understand, Hermione? It is not impulsive! It is a matter of if you really love me or not."
Hermione bent over and kissed him."I am going to marry you, Harry Potter." Hermione said over and over.
***
Ron, being as he was a mind reader, knew what had just happened.
"HARRY! You are the luckiest man this city has heard of! If you were a girl, I'd kiss you!" he screamed aloud. Jealous as Ron was, he really adored Harry's keen sense for women and his kindness. Harry's proposal may not have been what could be called romantic, but in Ron's opinion, it was good enough. Just getting the woman to say yes was Ron's concern right now. Well, actually, he still went girlfriend-less, but nonetheless he still had high hopes for a girl named Alana Love. Pretty and entertaining, Ron had his eye on her since she moved to the city, which, mind you, was 2 years ago. As Ron lay thinking about his girlfriend trouble, he fell into a deep sleep.
***
He awoke to find himself inside a dark room. Where was he? He dashed about the room, looking left and right for a door, but there seemed to be none. If there was no door, how did he get in? Though the walls were painted a slate-grey color, they seemed almost transparent. He gazed sleepily through each wall, mezmorized by the beautiful color he saw just beyond the room he was in. He needed to get into that color-filled room! He just had to! He looked and saw Hermione and Harry hand-in-hand waving at him. But their stares seemed almost as if they had not been of this world. They were ghost-like even. Their images melted away like ice placed in a warm oven. Ron thought to himself, am I being tortured? All of these beautiful things, and I am just so far enough away as so I cannot reach them. But only barely.
Suddenly, 3 men apparated into the room. Each was wearing a silky black cape. They were all hooded. Ron could not make out their faces. Even though the faces were unclear, Ron sensed danger. These men scared him- the fact that he couldn't make out their faces scared him the most. He tried to apparate away but found his apparating skills had dissapeared completley. He was so horrified.
One of the men grabbed Ron's shoulder. The pressure was so great that Ron squealed aloud. Another man grabbed Ron's collar. The last of the three men held out his hand and said something strange- something Ron could not make out. What this saying had turned out to be was a simple spell for magiking up a door. Damn! Ron thought. Why couldn't he have spoken a tad louder?
Ron had expected to be brought through the colorful room. But he was wrong. And, on top of not going through the beautiful room, Ron was brought through a set of terribly murky dungeons. Glancing up at the men clutching his arm, he reached up and attempted to pull down one of their hoods'.
Without warning, the man whacked Ron's trembling hand out of the way and spit out a bubbling green substance from his mouth which was aimed right at Ron. The substance hit him in the eye and he felt a burning sensation as if his eyeballs were being disected peace by peace. It was so awful that he almost cried.
The men brought him into a long, dark hallway. After what seemed like hours of walking, the men halted in front of a large, brass door. It was gold with silver shimmering dots. It was so beautiful yet so surreal. It was like a mirage. As one of the figures touched the door, it melted away and Ron was led into a narrow, dark hallway filled with cells. Covering the cells were bars that were thick enough to kill. Now Ron realized where he was. He was in Azkaban.
***
Harry kissed Hermione once more and than looked up at her face. He began to speak but Hermione, in a hushed voice said, "don't speak, Harry." Harry quickly shot a glance away from her. He loved her so much, yet she intimidated him so. She seemed to overpower his abilites, though he knew quite well that no one could dodge a bludger and catch a snitch the way that he could. No, it wasn't that. She intimidated him in another way, a way which made Harry feel so small and nievè. She was like a mother and Harry was the child. But Harry liked it that way.
"Kiss me, mommy! Im scared!" Harry said aloud.
"What in the world..."
"Uh, nothing. I mean... I love you Hermione."
"Okay-"
Harry felt stupid. His face flashed a brilliant pink and he hid it under one of his mauve pillows.
***
As Ron was led into narrow hallways and leaky passages, he began to feel afraid so as to the point where he could not take it anymore. His feet grew tired as well as his body from walking. Many times he tried to apparate but it seemed as if this great force was holding him back. Maybe something WAS keeping him from going anywhere. This was, afterall, Azkaban.
Abrubtly, the men stopped and chucked his weakened body into a dreery cell. They walked away, seeming so incredibly satisfied. It disgusted Ron. These men were so vindictive. What assholes they were.
As Ron opened his mouth to say something, he remembered that he was in Azkaban and that these were dementors that he was dealing with- so he felt he better off say nothing at all. He sat on the damp floor to think for a bit. How did he get in Azkaban? What had he done in his life that was worth this torture for? Sure there was the time where he had made the giant squid at Hogwarts go blind- but if that was so illeagal, than why had he only gotten detention with Filch? And, if he were to become a prizoner of Azkaban for that, then why hadn't he gone sooner? So maybe he had done some pretty bad things in his lifetime, but were any bad enough to get him here? And did he even get a trial? It seemed not.
Ron shivered and looked up. He desprately wanted to be with humanity. In a nearby cell, a short, balding man leaned over and a purple liquid came squirting out of his nose holes. Ron felt sick.
***
Outdoors was rainy and cold. The air was foggy and the night was frightening. But in Harry's apartment and in his arms, Hermione felt safe. She loved Harry so much- she always loved him. He was always her baby. And now, she had everything that she ever wanted. She had her loved one, a warm apartment, and a glass of butterbeer to top things off. What else could one want? She embraced him against her chest and began kissing his forehead.
She kissed him as if she were a mother comfoting her little child.
***
A few sharp pains bolted through Ron's body. He couldn't deal with this. Not today, not now. Why in the world could he be here?
Again, 3 pains shot through his almost-dead corpse as he lay on the freezing concrete floors of his cell. Was this some kind of torture? He kept massaging his body parts yet the pains kept coming- it felt to him that he was being hit with the cruciatus curse.
He was.
***
Hemione suddely bolted upright. She had fallen into a deep sleep and was having a horrible nightmare- Harry and She were at some strange place, and Harry had fallen into a bottomless pit. She couldn't see him, but she could hear his crys of fear as he grasped on to anything that was possible. She was so frightened. She had thought he was dead. But when the warmth of his hand intertwined with hers, she knew that he was alright.
Looking into his eyes, she reached out and touched his hair. It was ruffled and scruffy-looking but the farmiliarity warmed her heart to the extent. She chuckled aloud and laid her head back on his lap. She drifted back to sleep happily.
***
Ron, in extreme pain, managed to get himself to stand up and look for the source of the curse. It seemed as if the pain was coming from the air; not a living, breathing, human being, which scared him very much so. Almost instantly, a man approached who didn't seem to be a dementor. But if he wasn't a dementor, who was he? He was muddering something that was obviosely the curse that Ron was experiencing. He was so terrified, but he had nothing to say, nothing to do. What could he do, anyway? Yell at the man? Ask him what the hell he was doing there? Of course not. But if he wasn't a dementor...
It seemed that hours went by before the man actually stopped talking and approached Ron's cell. Unfortunately for Ron, it was only a matter of minutes. The man came into Ron's vision carrying a long, brown pole that looked like a tree branch. Was it? Maybe. He came closer, never taking his glare away from Ron's, and clicking his pole up and down. Up and down. Up and down. It made Ron sleepy to look at it. He tried to tair his eyes away from the man, but they seemed to be glued to him. This, if anything, must've been torture.
As the man stepped closer and closer to the cell, he began to hold out his stick and swing it around in great circles. He finally stopped abrubtly and stared straight into Ron's retinas. It was so mezmorizing.
The man spoke, "Avara Kadavara!" and pointed his mangled wand to Ron's heart.
***
Harry and Hermione made out on Harry's hardwood floor for a half an hour. When they finally tore apart, Harry was sweating and Hermione was trembling. Hermiones eyes were fixated on Harry's forehead and she opened her mouth wide.
Harry's scar was pulsating. It pumped in and out of his forehead as if it were a heart beating in the palm if Hermiones head. She felt as if she were about to throw up. "Harry!" she said quickly, burying her face in his lap. "Harry, is your scar hurting?"
"No, why?"
"Uhh, look in the mirror."
Harry stood up and glanced into the mirror. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Hermione, it looks as it always does."
"What?"
"It looks as it always does."
"No, look, it is pulsating!"
"No its not..."
"But it is!"
"Umm, no, actually, its not."
"Huh?"
Harry turned around and Hermione gaped at his forehead. There was not a pulsating scar there. She must've been imagining things. This was too weird.
***
Ron leaped up high in the air. The moment he had heard the words, "Avara Kadavara!" He had immedietly recognized it as the killing curse. The man again yelled this curse at him, but Ron was quick and sly and dodged the curse each time it flew past his way. Finally, the man gave up and said to him in a growly voice, "I may not have gotten you this time, but I will get you sometime!" And with that, the man stormed away saying only one more thing, "Cruciatus."
For the next couple hours, Ron was in agony. Everything on him pained and ached rechidly (A/N okay, dont tell me thins is not spelled right cuz I know!) The cruciatus curse that was put on him was made not to kill so poor Ron was in horrid pain for the next three hours. When the curse was finally taken off, Ron thought he was going to die. "That bastard..." he murmured. His voice was pathetically weak, and every bone in his body seemed to be broken. After 10 minutes, a scruffling noise was heard at the end of the hall. Ron peered out through the bars on his cell and down the murky hall. Three dementors were coming nearer and nearer with someone tangled among their arms. It was a woman who was wiggling about and trying to break free. "I havn't done anything!" she sqealed and pinched one of the dementors arms. Ron thought that the girl must've had some bravery and nerve among her to do that to a dementor. Finally, the three dementors and the woman halted in front of his cell. One dementor stepped forward and uttered a word which magiked a key into his hand. He unlocked the cell and chucked the woman in. Ron was too weak to try and stand up to escape. And even if he had the strength, he wouldn't be able to make it out without being caught. The woman was still persistant. She kept screaming, "let me out!!!" until the dementors finally used a simple spell to throw her against the wall. She sriveled but still could stand up. "I am telling you, I didn't do it!" The dementors walked away. Ron guessed that they had satisfied looks on their faces, but couldn't tell seeing as he still could not see their faces.
The woman stuck out her hand to the weak and trembling Ron. "Hullo!" she said. She sounded happier than usual for being in Azkaban and all. "well, I guess we are, uh, cell-mates!"
"Ya." Ron said weakly. The woman's voice sounded farmiliar. He finally got the strength to look up at her face. He gasped when he saw her farmiliar smile and forlorn eyes.
It was Narcissa.