Hermione Granger was starting to lose the feeling in her toes as she sat waiting for Ginny Weasley to finish Quidditch practice. She shifted her position on the crumbling section of dry stone wall she rested upon and snapped her book shut with such rapid force that a small cloud of dust puffed out from between its pages. She sighed and watched her breath eddy and turn, mixing with the snowflakes that lazily meandered through the freezing sky before gently touching the ground. The sudden movement disrupted a robin who had been plucking red berries off a nearby shrub, and he fluttered away to the trees making almost as little noise as the falling snow. Hermione glanced impatiently at her watch, the second hand ticking steadily on in no particular hurry to reach 8 'o' clock, the time which Ginny had promised to be out by. It seemed unlikely that Ginny would be anywhere but the Quidditch pitch at this hour, considering her position as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, but strange things have been known to occur at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Ginny squinted as she looked up into the mass of white flecks that hurried passed her face, elongating into a tunnel of white streaks. She blinked a few times as the icy air stung her eyes and caused tears to well up and stream down her cold cheeks. There open air before her appeared cloudy and faintly purple in the distance. She blinked a little harder in an attempt to clear her vision. Opening her eyes again she was blinded by a frenzy of snow, blustering around like an angry swarm of insects. Suddenly, the vortex of white evaporated leaving her floating, weightless in a sea of mottled purples and blues. Ginny's heart lurched and she looked down in utter horror, searching for a glimpse of the green and white pitch and the other players in maroon, darting around over it. But there was no sign of the pitch, and much to her alarm, there was no sign of anything but emptiness unfolding before her.
In the distance (or was it close by?) a soft murmuring became audible and Ginny looked around, straining her ears to locate the origin of the noise, echoing through the space, ebbing ever so slightly louder and occasionally fading away into silence again. Ginny brought her hands up to her face and felt the tips of her fingers brush against her skin. Detecting nothing out of the ordinary she pulled them away from her face and let her eyes softly focus on the palms of her hands which also appeared to be quite normal, even in the peculiar light. A small, silvery scar from an old childhood injury wrapped around her left index finger and appeared almost silver against the bluish background. Drawing her attention away from her hands, Ginny realised that the strange, echoing sound had grown loud enough to be recognisable as music, bouncing around and slowly fading into oblivion. As she listened she thought that it sounded remarkably… royalty free. An optimistic collection of notes bubbling through the atmosphere, vaguely distorted by the seemingly infinite space it drifted through.
Ginny had been floating through the void for roughly a minute, completely aghast and unable to come to terms with her situation before the cold and prickling sense of dread spread throughout her body. It started in the soles of her feet and crawled precipitously over her skin, up to her scalp, boring down through her body and causing her heart to race and her stomach to churn uncomfortably. Thoughts tore through her head, too fast to comprehend, and she began to feel her grip on the broom loosen. Droplets of sweat beaded up on her forehead, intensifying the feeling of cold, clamminess that accompanied her terror. Dragging the sleeve of her Quidditch uniform over her face, Ginny began to sense that she was no longer alone. The prickly feeling of dread deepened and she slowly turned herself around, struggling to imagine how much worse her situation could get…
"henlo orang"
As she turned, a giant, disembodied head loomed into view. She looked into its fiery red eyes and livid expression but her fear, instead of mounting, melted into confusement. "I, am not Orang. I am Ginny" she said. Her words sounded as though they didn't belong to her. They came out in a disjointed string, devoid of expression or tone as though something not quite human had spoken them. The gigantic head began to vibrate until it was no more than a blur of light, and with a pinging sound it stopped abruptly, its expression altered and its eyes no longer glowing with the rage of a thousand suns. Eventually it spoke again, in a correspondingly artificial voice:
"Cool and good"