Yes, my mysterious disappearance can be explained... but i'd rather you read the chapter and reviewed instead yo

Chapter 21: Attack

I received a paper airplane memo just two nights later, detailing where I was to report and what time I was to finish; starting at five, and ending at nine, in the first dungeon corridor a bucket and mop and spray cleaners and sponges were in a small pile leaning against a pillar ready for my use. Snape, one of the most serious people to walk the school grounds no doubt, had constructed a paper airplane. Perhaps unconsciously.

I took Ginny with me the first night, so she could keep me company. With some false hope the first thing we tried to do was charm the brooms into sweeping, but I kind of figured this wasn't supposed to be easy.

"Thanks for skipping dinner for me, Gin." I said gratefully, while I swept the floors first.

She smiled quirkily, and chewed her apple. She was sitting in a place I had already cleaned, doing her homework, mostly for moral support. So far, I'd only received dirty looks from the Slytherins but left alone.

"No worries, Heid. But just a question; how long is this supposed to go on?"

I stopped, as a few sixth year Slytherin girls turned an ear into our conversation on their way by to probably spark up more gossip. They finally realized I wasn't going to speak with them there, and left with a little annoyance on their faces.

"I'm not sure; probably forever though. I'm sure if he were allowed, he would stop me going to Quidditch Friday."

"Which reminds me; you better be there for the game. No more trouble, for crying out loud!" She reprimanded.

I snorted, "Yeah, yeah." I went back to scrubbing the grime off the glass panels. Maybe I misunderstood the design of these dungeons, but its not like light could ever file through into these rooms by the glass.

After about a couple hours, Ginny checked with me if it was okay for her to retire, and I agreed, but I still had the last bit of the hallway to finish.

I could hear "… watch this!" I heard someone shout. I quickly turned, but I shouldn't have as slime splattered across my front. But mostly on my face.

I wiped it off my mouth and nose, and shrieked oddly, but angrily and with frustration. I then scooped the substance off my eyes, and looked at the green goop in my hands before looking up at some third year Slytherins, followed up by seventh years laughing hysterically.

I saw Clive amidst them, failing at concealing a toothy grin, but I wasn't surprised. The only one not amused was Malfoy, who seemed to be withering away, looking terrible compared to the boy before the winter break. He continued walking, but I was more focused on a little third year, whose wand was drawn. I almost drew my wand as well, but took a deep breath, and gestured to him how I'd be watching him. They scurried away, considerably less brave than their senior counterparts, who stayed behind to watch me struggle. I cast furious glances at them, and then recoiled as Clive trotted over to my side, looking back at his friends the whole way. I can't imagine any Slytherin providing any kind of support for another, so why was he approaching me?

"What?" I demanded, taking off my cardigan, only to find my button up was stained green, as well as my undershirt. I cursed under my breath, trying to get the stuff out of my eyelashes.

He expertly cleaned my face with a charm, and the gunk was cleared. "You're becoming increasingly difficult to befriend." He snorted when he saw the look on my face.

"I don't want to be your friend." I seethed. I turned away from him and tried a cleaning spell on my clothes, even resorting to an imprecise scourgify, but it was effectively hexed. How did Clive know what spell to use? I wondered suspiciously.

"Good luck in this school without the right people." He said coolly, and I heard him take a step closer, but then his steps retreated to his friends.

I rose. "Right is a matter of opinion, isn't it then?" I said just loud enough for him to hear, kicking my clothes against the wall.

I sighed as they left, the whole group casting glances ranging from disgusted, to humoured.

It was nine by the time I was finished, but I went to the Great Hall anyways, in search of food. I was still green, and stunk somewhat of steamed broccoli. The doors were slightly ajar, and a small candle lit a spot at the Gryffindor table.

"Perfect." I sat, and a timid elf appeared with a dish.

"Sorry, missus, for the meagre portions. Headmaster has ordered nothing more."

"Oh… well thanks anyways." I clenched my fist around my fork; unimpressed would be an understatement. Though this was weak punishment compared to slaving for the Slytherins.

I ate quickly, not anticipating the onslaught of homework I would have to finish, but hasting to the common room.

The following day, Ginny had to come into the seventh year's room to wake me since in was literally five minutes until class started. Ginny would murder me if I skipped; Quidditch players had to attend class, otherwise we weren't allowed to play.

…

Finally, it was game time. We laced our boots, and strapped our goggles on. Our brooms were rough at the handles, but smooth at the tails. Ginny spoke up: Fire, Speed, strategy, and fly. But I was in my own zone. We were playing Slytherin, our outmost opponent, and I would need my concentration.

Minutes passed, and Madame Hooch called us out of the dressing rooms. The wind howled, and spat wet snow in every which way. The buzzer sounded. Quaffles, then bludgers, then finally, the snitch was released, and flew around gingerly, as if sensing for its hunters. It succeeded, and whizzed around my head, then to the other seeker; some fifth year.

I did a double take; Malfoy wasn't in his normal position as seeker.

I had little time to think before Hooch blew her whistle sounded, and my short thoughts were ceased; I had a job to do.

Straight away, I knew that the snitch was going to be right darn cruel. That fifth year boy competing with me, had even less of a chance; he was watching the play.

I stopped my overhead surveillance after fifteen minutes of play; we were being demolished. The score was already 90 to 40. Make that 100.

At this rate, even if I did find the snitch in this weather, we'd lose anyways.

I stopped watching after Seamus almost tumbled off his broom thanks to a bludger, unnerved by his lack of awareness. I turned and cursed, as I saw the other seeker finally picking up a trail.

I came up beside him, as we circled the Slytherin hoops; the snitch was weaving impossibly through them. I kept my distance, following up beside it, whereas the kid was showing off by weaving in behind it.

He ended up coming around the middle hoop too tightly, and as I followed up beside the poles, he smashed his knee, and was sent hurdling into one of his beaters.

I let myself snigger before going after the snitch, which had taken to flying in the direction of the bludgers.

My plan of attack had switched now. I'd have to prevent that fifth year from reaching the snitch until we regained momentum.

I deigned that he would take a while longer to regain his senses, and quickly circled back to Ginny, who was out of play for the tiniest moment.

"Pick it up!" I shouted over the howling wind, in passing. I only received her flickering eyes in my direction as a confirmation, and then to the scoreboard, which was enough. She knew I'd do my job, and vice versa.

I rounded again, catching a faint glint of the snitch trickling around the headmaster's box. I flew to its general area, but not giving away its exact location to the fifth year. I looked to the scoreboard finally. We were down 180 to 60. I cursed again, as Slytherin was determined to not let my plan work.

Finally the fifth year decided that it was in his best interest to shadow me. I rolled my eyes, because I couldn't shake him, it would only be a matter of time before he saw the snitch circling above us.

He came to my side, and winked through his goggles. "Lovely weather we're having!" He shouted over the winds.

I rolled my eyes, but kept an eye on the snitch, and circled again, keeping him close by.

I looked at the scoreboard. We had thirty more points. I bolted, seeing that this was ample enough time for me to go after the snitch. The ditched Slytherin immediately takes the hint, and follows suit, much to my annoyance.

The snitch takes notice as well; it seems to remark the score, and takes sharper turns to avoid us.

The Slytherin boy catches up, even passing me. I scoff, and speed up, cutting in front of him. He barely has time to turn, and his broom handle is caught under my arms, and his torso is holding on for dear life on top of me. I tightly grip the handle with my thighs, and drop downwards, letting my arms go free, effectively shaking him off; he scrambles, barely getting a hold of the broom handle, but falls another fifty feet before he can get on top of his broom, even longer to regain control.

Meanwhile, I'm hot on trail of the snitch. I hear the bludgers whizz by, taking aim for me, and as they find their way back, I fly to the Slytherin beaters, and do a sharp downturn, letting the bludgers have their way with them.

The snitch is still in sight after my large detour, and I speed up. It must have sensed too late that I had it within arms length, and I ripped it out of the air effectively. Take that Slytherin.

The roar of the crowd increases, and I descend onto my team, the golden bauble's wings folded back in shame.

Back inside, we cheered, eager for the party that was sure to ensue after the beating that the Slytherins went through.

When I woke the next day, around two o'clock, I sighed in content despite a slight buzz from the night before. I walked down to the common room, glad that I had thought to leave the party early in favour of a bed. I remembered seeing a couple people crashed out on the couches. I chuckled, seeing Seamus on an armchair.

Then my mood disappeared when I remember that I have to clean the halls again.

By the next Wednesday, the day before I had planned to leave with Ginny. Ginny had explained that two years ago that she, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville had left the school via Thestrals. That's how we would leave too. We worked out that we'd have supper, and then slip out undetected while the teachers were keeping a watch over the vast majority of the students. Luckily for us, the most security in the school was late nights and at the front gates of the school. Since you can't fly a broom out easily, we figured that flying the Thestrals, only carrying the brooms aside would be less risky. Thestrals could come and go as they please.

I just had to withstand one more night of torment in the dungeons.

"Hey, Nev, I can't make it to the meeting tonight, since I have to clean the dungeons yet again, but just update me on whatever's going on, okay?" I asked him, before heading down alone.

"You sure you want to go down alone?" He asked nervously, but not fearfully.

"No, I'll be good for another night."

He seemed to hesitate before turning after we said our goodbyes, but I waved him away confidently. Nothing had really happened since I was turned green, other than a few snide remarks here and there. I would manage.

As of late I was fixing up some miscellaneous hallway, hardly anyone went down this way and the dust was everywhere. It didn't look like it had been touched by the house-elves in a century. Who would blame them? The dungeons were an overall unpleasant place to be in the first place.

I scrubbed along, glad to be a bit out of the way. I checked around the corner and saw that it was close to eight. I only had one more hour-ish of this before I could get a little rucksack started for tomorrow night.

I went back to my duties, but stopped briefly to hear the rhythm of footsteps. They were largely paced, and heavy. Maybe Snape had sent the Carrow's down to check up on me, and they do so often. Actually, they've only done it twice but I made sure to get back to work. I heard the steps retreat, then return with a second set. I turned, only to be hit and blinded by some silent hex.

I knew that since the only people who could know about not using words for magic: either us in the DA or the advanced children of the dark arts, since the teachers wouldn't dare to attack outside of their offices. Or would they?

In those brief moments of disorientation and reflection, I could hear the footfalls rush towards me, and one of them picked my up easily and drove me into the wall. I choked on air as my head was smashed back. I felt useless, my body froze as numerous fists made contact with me.

I only barely managed to make sounds of dissent, but I couldn't make words with my mouth, and that was not from any spell, but from shock, I knew. Next, my legs were kicked out from under me, and I landed hard on my hip, and I was kicked a few times. One last was made for good measure, before I heard one of them kneel beside me. I rolled away, but he muttered, "Come here" and pulled me back by my shirt. They were male, but I somehow knew before that no one female could throw repeatedly crushing punches quite like these boys.

I felt him hesitate along the hem of my shirt, and I kept praying that whoever this was had some heart to keep my clothes on. The moment's hesitation was long enough because I could hear down the hall, a cry of anger.

"Stop!" I could make-out. The warmth of the boy's body that was crouched next to me stood, and cursed under his breath, before the two of them took off down the hall.

A small argument broke out, but before I leaned over to listen, I realized I could hardly move my body without immediate pain. My breathing came out even more raggedly, and soon, I knew what it was like to hyperventilate. I managed to claw at and around my eyes, but whatever was blacking my vision wasn't substantial.

Once my shudders ceased, I noted it was quiet. I wasn't quite sure if I was safe, but at least I was spared the sounds of myself being beaten.

I groaned to test my voice, and I was hovering between shaky and indiscernible. Finally, I decided I was alone. The hex was already starting to wear off, and whoever attacked me, and worse, whoever spared me would probably never be known to me. Not because of this knowledge, but because I wondered how long it would take to heal, I started to sob. Goodbye to World Quidditch.

As I cried alone in the basement, the torches' lights were covered by a blurry figure crouched in my way. Maybe two.

A cold and clammy hand touched the bruise over my forehead. I moaned incoherently, but I meant to say 'go away'. It briefly let go, but placed it back on. I was glad its owner didn't listen though. Small relief came over my throbbing bruise.

I shut my eyes, as the hands felt along my torso, where the shirt had been torn a little from the pulling. Still, it could have been worse. This person hovering me could have come much later. The tears in my eyes cleared, and I choked again, as I noticed Clive crouched beside me. First, I was surprised I could see, but then more so as I realized that not only was Clive beside me, but also, over his shoulder stood Snape.

"Are you alright?" Snape's voice asked in an unreadable tone.

I managed to find my voice, "Yeah." Great, once again my wit precedes me. Seconds later I realize I probably could have come up with much more… reproachful, were I not so desperate at the moment.

He didn't say anything else, and I almost figured he would leave me here, but then I asked why is he here in the first place? He had never come down before. Perhaps Clive went to get him. Perhaps even Clive was the person who stopped the two attackers. Then maybe he knows who it was. But I read his face, and just by the circumstances I knew it would probably be close to impossible to get the identities of the attackers out of him. A Slytherin ratting out a Slytherin was unheard of. And he'd already stopped them from further aggression.

"Leviocorpus," Snape utters, and I'm lifted into the air. He rushes with me in trail to the hospital wing, before stopping in the main entrance to see that Clive had followed most of the way.

"You may go, Mr. Thicknesse."

"You are likely misinterpreting my predisposition towards the Slytherin house as a slight guideline, however it is well past curfew, and my words are to be followed." Clive stared at him for a moment, before nodding. "You may go." I thought about sniggering as Clive reluctantly but punctually departed towards the dungeon. Until I figured that the pain in my abdomen was too great. I'm feeling tired anyways.

If Snape weren't such a jerk, I think I'd like him for his incredible ability to make everyone, even his peers to appear akin to buffoons. Except for McGonagall, of course.

I fell asleep, deciding I liked the feeling of being suspended gently in the air.

Peace folks

Sage94