Dawn crept over the intimidating castle that was to be Harry's home for the
next month. Alone, Harry awoke in a confined chamber that was brightly lit
with fluorescent light bulbs. It was said that living in this chamber could
make a man go mad because it was so eerily bland- the bleached white walls
and stainless steel floor were jinxed to resist pleasant thoughts. In fact,
the entire castle was jinxed. Each chamber had a certain hex- Ron occupied
the room of thirst in which you would thirst for something ceaselessly but
never be fulfilled. Hermione was placed in the room of scrutiny- the walls,
floors, and ceiling was made of glass eyeballs- the inhabitant could never
feel at rest. For this castle was a prison.
The three friends had finally landed themselves a punishment that Dumbledore couldn't help them out of. Dumbledore was at an International League of Top Wizards conference, and had appointed a substitute headmaster, Gargathian Scrumbly. After Harry, Hermione and Ron had broken into Scrumbly's office vault- three times- and been caught red handed on each attempt- they were banished to the Prison for Delinquents temporarily. They had believed that Scrumbly was actually a death eater- and had opened his vault searching for evidence three times for verification. However, they were false in assumption, and Scrumbly, in his medieval manner of things, had bound them into the worst punishment that was legal. Scrumbly had prevented news of the matter from reaching Dumbledore.
The three couldn't communicate to anyone through their cells, so they were each left to their own devices. Because each room was totally bare (all they received was the food that was shoveled through a slot in the door), they were essentially left to the mercy of the room's hex.
***
Harry paced to and fro, trying to think of escape. But each idea that he had was instantly replaced by its con. He hated Scrumbly, if only he could have reached Dumbledore. He began to question Dumbledore. 'How could he leave that man in charge? Isn't he the all-knowing wizard? Ok, so Scrumbly's not a death eater. But we certainly aren't delinquents. Stupid, stupid Scrumbly,' he taunted. 'Stupid Scrumbly, Stupid Scrumbly, stupid stupid stupid scrumbly!'. The words reverberated through his head. He pulled at his hair, kicked the wall. But they wouldn't cease. 'Stupid Scrumbly, stupid Scrumbly.'
***
Ron lay on the floor of his chamber, his mouth open. His eyes were slightly glazed as he muttered 'must get toast. must get toast'. He savoured the thought of biting into the hardened, browned bread. He chewed it slowly, smiling all the while. After a while he realized that he was eating air, and he restarted the chant ' must get toast. must get toast'.
***
In an effort to stay sane, Hermione was listing out all the necessities of using potions only for their purposes. She scratched her head. 'Oh you stop looking at me!' she told the wall. She stomped the floor. 'Stop it, stop it!' She huddled down on the floor, burying her face in her robe. It was peaceful for a moment, until she remembered the glass eyes that she was sitting on, that were staring at the back of her robe and the soles of her feet. She stood up, hastily.
***
The three friends had finally landed themselves a punishment that Dumbledore couldn't help them out of. Dumbledore was at an International League of Top Wizards conference, and had appointed a substitute headmaster, Gargathian Scrumbly. After Harry, Hermione and Ron had broken into Scrumbly's office vault- three times- and been caught red handed on each attempt- they were banished to the Prison for Delinquents temporarily. They had believed that Scrumbly was actually a death eater- and had opened his vault searching for evidence three times for verification. However, they were false in assumption, and Scrumbly, in his medieval manner of things, had bound them into the worst punishment that was legal. Scrumbly had prevented news of the matter from reaching Dumbledore.
The three couldn't communicate to anyone through their cells, so they were each left to their own devices. Because each room was totally bare (all they received was the food that was shoveled through a slot in the door), they were essentially left to the mercy of the room's hex.
***
Harry paced to and fro, trying to think of escape. But each idea that he had was instantly replaced by its con. He hated Scrumbly, if only he could have reached Dumbledore. He began to question Dumbledore. 'How could he leave that man in charge? Isn't he the all-knowing wizard? Ok, so Scrumbly's not a death eater. But we certainly aren't delinquents. Stupid, stupid Scrumbly,' he taunted. 'Stupid Scrumbly, Stupid Scrumbly, stupid stupid stupid scrumbly!'. The words reverberated through his head. He pulled at his hair, kicked the wall. But they wouldn't cease. 'Stupid Scrumbly, stupid Scrumbly.'
***
Ron lay on the floor of his chamber, his mouth open. His eyes were slightly glazed as he muttered 'must get toast. must get toast'. He savoured the thought of biting into the hardened, browned bread. He chewed it slowly, smiling all the while. After a while he realized that he was eating air, and he restarted the chant ' must get toast. must get toast'.
***
In an effort to stay sane, Hermione was listing out all the necessities of using potions only for their purposes. She scratched her head. 'Oh you stop looking at me!' she told the wall. She stomped the floor. 'Stop it, stop it!' She huddled down on the floor, burying her face in her robe. It was peaceful for a moment, until she remembered the glass eyes that she was sitting on, that were staring at the back of her robe and the soles of her feet. She stood up, hastily.
***