CHAPTER TWO: A crime committed, a life lost
I left the fiddler soon after his song. He played his heart out, projecting his soul with the deep voice, surprisingly smooth against the bitter cold air outside. He sung of a bitter present and a peaceful past. He sung of the life he would have had if he hadn't made poor choices at a young age, like I have. In approximately 3 hours, 6 minutes, and 34, 33, 32 seconds, I will be apparated to the Ministry of Magic for my trial with the Wizengamot. Just yesterday I was free, free to roam the world, planning a trip to America with my friends. Oh how I'll miss my friends.
I woke with a start, a horrid scent assaulting my nostrils. " What the-" I say, cut off by a nearby scream as I sat up in my four-poster.
" Hermione!" I heard Ron yell. I jumped out of my bed, quickly putting on my glasses, then grabbing my wand. Another scream.
" Hermione!" I yelled, looking for the owner of the scream. I ran down the stairs to the common room, frantically searching for Hermione, and the source of that terrible scent! My eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of life. To my disappointment, it was completely deserted.
Quickly coming to my senses, I push past the portrait and run for the Great Hall. The scent grows stronger the closer to the Hall I get, but Hermione's voice grows farther away. I stop, panicking at the thought of her and Ron in danger, then run in the opposite direction.
I begin to hear Hermione again, screaming and laughing loudly. Wait... laughing?
I quicken my pace, growing more and more confused as the volume of her shouts and laughter grow. Then I hear it. The tell-tale
whoosh of a broom stick. Then a few seconds later I hear something else, Ron's laughter.
I am instantly calmed, remembering that Ron said her would take Hermione out to the Quidditch pitch today.
She is fine, Harry. I thought to myself, feeling like an idiot suddenly.
I ruffle my messy hair, making it more untidy than before, then head back to the dormitory, barefoot. The smooth cobblestone floors were cold to touch, but almost therapeutic to the soles of my feet.
" Golden foal." I say quietly to the Fat Lady, feeling oddly empty. I wait for the portrait to swing open, but it doesn't. I forward, closely examining the painting. To my surprise, The Fat Lady wasn't even present on the painting, in fact it looked as if she left in a hurry.
They say that the portraits in Hogwarts can sense danger before it strikes. Although it's never been proven, many still trust the instincts of the paintings' inhabitants. This was the case. I quickly turned on my heel and ran down the abandoned corridor yelling at the top of my lungs, " POISON! THERE IS POISON IN THE AIR! EVERY ONE GET OUT, NOW!"
My eyelids were growing heavy as I heard the sound of scrambling and panic. Good. If they can panic, they are alert. My vision started swaying, making my head spin circles around my thoughts. Where was the exit? I couldn't remember. Someone crashed into me, and kept running. I fell to the ground hard, losing my wand in the process. I was getting stepped on, kicked, and ignored. Everyone just might stampede me to death!
I try standing, but just then someone steps on my ankle, crushing the bones, causing me to scream in pain. This time the person stopped, and walks back to me. My brain fogging up from the fumes and pain, was causing me to have double vision. I know the boy, but I can't quite place him. I don't care to place him though, because he is now laughing at me.
Someone kicks my wand back in my direction.
The last thing I remember before blacking out, was the look on Goyle's face when he was engulfed by the Fiend Fyre.
That's it. That's why I am going to the ministry, because I murdered Vincent Goyle, with dark magic. The only reason I wasn't thrown straight into Azkaban is because I saved hundreds of innocent lives from the poison (which is under current investigation), and because I may have been under a imperious curse. I knew I was angry, but not angry enough to kill. Besides, my ankle could be healed, but if you die, well let's just say its permanent.
2 hours, 17 minutes, and 10, 9, 8 seconds until my trial.
