Hey everyone, I'm sorry it took me so long to post this. I've been busy with basically just school and band stuff. We're all getting ready for Solo Ensemble in February, and this week is exam week.=) I hope this is good, because this is my first Harry Potter fanfic. If I mess up on anything please tell me, I don't mind constructive criticism (especially if it concerns information from the books).
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
This story takes place during the third book, while everyone was on the trip to Hogsmeade, and most likely a little while after. It is kind of AU, and I will be posting it in drabbles.
Claustrophobia
Chapter 1- A Hole In The Wall
A dusty light trickled through the bars, set high in the wall. The space over which the bars rested, was little more than a hole. A tiny, insignificant chink in the mountainous stone wall.
The light fell across an exposed, tanned neck. Grime coated it in varying splotches, speckling it with an unnatural pattern. He raised a filthy hand to rub at it, further spreading the dank disease across his skin. Thinly muscled arms were tattooed with jagged cuts, and ashen scrapes.
His shaggy, overgrown hair had tangled, leaving dangling, uneven dreadlocks around his face, and down his back.
Across from him the rusting bars of his cage creaked, a gleaming silver lock keeping the door permanently shut. On one smooth side of the lock, a mouth, its lips slender and golden, had been set. It was frozen in a smirk, diamond teeth glimmering, and a garnet tongue protruding from them.
The shaggy, dark shape gently lifted its head, shivering.
"Hasn't it been long enough?" He croaked.
The golden lips seemed to twist a little farther, its smirk widening.
"Doe of the Snake. " It sang cheerfully, the force of its building laughter swinging it from its position on the door. "Doe of the snake."
He ground his teeth together, clutching the phoenix feather wand in his right hand. He shakily rose it, deftly pointing at the small lips of the lock.
He shook as the word built upon his tongue.
"Alohomora!" He screamed.
A burst of light slammed into the lock, sending it into another fit of swinging. Another fit of laughter.
"The Boy Who Lived! Unbelievable! So weak." It gasped between sharp intakes of breath. "Such a useless, 'Living' boy. "
Harry Potter was trapped in an encroaching darkness, in a dungeon far below the detection of his fellow students. He grasped at the dirt floor.
" What can such a weakling do?" It trembled.