A/N: It would be delightful if you might take a moment to read over a few questions I have and keep in mind criticism to be worded back to me, if you please. Are the character's personalities following a steady path? Was Harry's personality change too sudden and not explained thoroughly enough? Was there anything you feel I have not handled correctly? Is there anything unclear, that you do not understand? Does any of the writing contradict itself? Would you like an elaboration on any person, place, or event?
Throwing Down the Gauntlet, Taking Up the Ax
Chapter Nine
by Miss Eliza Azraelian
The Slytherin Common Room, though lively with activity, was neither boisterous nor hectic. The scene was reminiscent of observing a wake. Solemn, stone faces were steadily working from books, on parchment, or strategic planning. The Slytherin King was deathly silent as he observed his friends playing Genocide, an adventure board game. Ginerva, the Enchantress, moved three-spaces intruding upon the Knight Warrior and despite her useless right arm triumphed over Neville, leaving him in the Swamp for the next three turns, which happened to be Bourder territory. The term observing translates to refereeing and by board-game we refer to tiny-life adventure – the players were about three inches in height. Harry wasn't present.
A shadowed figure sits on the edge of a black satin bed, a four poster with an enchanted celestial sky. His black t-shirt partially on, the figure rests with his elbows on his knees, his back curved forward as a hunch man. Straggling wisps of hair hung before a gaunt face, the dim lighting gives his flesh a grayish tint and eyes flash scarlet. Pale, slender, arms slip the shirt over his head and the figure rises, unfolding themselves to their towering height. Black dragon hide shoes take several steps on the plush rug to the cold stone with no sound. Standing before the door, a hand reaches out to grasp the knob. The knob whines as it is twisted.
Stepping in to the hallway, he quietly shuts the door and turns left, his steps lacking the echoing in the dungeon hallway, the lights remaining dark as he passes. The walk is solemn and continuous, seemingly unending with identical halls. He stops before a blank wall. He turned back 5 paces, and turning back again, and then once more. Darting his eyes to the wall he watches entranced as grotesque carvings rise from the wall to become double doors illuminating darkness. A few steps and he reaches out, tracing his hand on one of the carved snakes. It twists and squirms as it comes alive, raising its hood up to stare into bright eyes. The snake then coils back into itself. He steps into the wall, and continues walking, seemingly being absorbed into the stone itself. The hall is left alone, the symbols patterned on the ground dimming.
Stepping out of the wall, the room he now stood in resembled a sparring area – gleaming weapons hung on the back wall, wooden poles were set in the far back left corner, a closed altar cabinet stood in the far back right. The floor held ritualistic symbols on the form of a mandala. The floor felt slightly cushioned. Dim light was shed from the dusty chandelier that hung from the ceiling and sporadic torches on the wall were lit with green fire. It was cold in the air, in the stone, in his heart.
As he walked to the center of the room golems arose, born from the floor, seven in number. He set his feet a part, his arms hung loosely and his eyes burned with intent at the enemies marching closer, surrounding him. Time whispered mockingly, motion slowed and when the first golem reached to attack it had all ready been thwarted. The training battle lasted a minute amount of time. Small beads of sweat mixed with blood on his face, but his breath was even and controlled. Seven more golems rose from the floor as the others remains were reabsorbed. They were armed with maces, battleaxes and spears. A bloody grin was given from our boy hero.
The Knight Warrior, Neville, and the Bourder, Gregory, had been evicted from the game and both headed to the hospital wing, hopelessly supporting each other. It isn't the most light game ever evented, it's barely legal – and is only so because you are evicted immediately when you are seriously injured. Though there have been few, some have failed.
A/N: Please review, criticism is welcome. One more I request that those willing to take up the task and honour, harass me! You are welcome to message me on AIM: Justeverlovin and whenever I whine about being bored whip me back into action! Otherwise this story may never be done within either of our life times! The shame, The horror!
Oh, and thank you to Juniper Raven for harassing! I know someone else did but I don't remember their name and can't find the email, but thank you!
