The world had turned maroon. It was as though Diagon Alley had been dipped in blood. I could see it dripping off the buildings, streaking in tiny droplets down to the paved road, breaking into hundreds of tinier droplets as they exploded from the fall.
But suddenly the maroon tinge wasn't liquid, it was solid, solid fabric, wrapping around my eyes. Almost like a turban.
And I was struggling to breathe, and strugging to move, and I was trapped, and wrapped up in the mystery cloth, and it had me bound.
I was blind, and the world had turned maroon.
