The wind tousled Sarah's curls rudely, waking her up. She had no idea of what happened, or where she was, but it was dark here, and she wasn't on the Quidditch field anymore. The wind blew again, tossing dirt into her mouth. Spitting it out weakly, she drug herself off of the dusty ground and looked around blearily.
The sky was an eerie mix of deep purple and the gray of storm clouds. The air was very thick, heavy and damp to her lungs; it was the kind of weather about five minutes before the worst storms thrashed the earth. There was no kind of greenery in sight, only brown, hard dirt, and the occasional leafless tree. The wind picked up again and threw Sarah's hair about, until she finally lost patience and used a hair tie on it.
Finally noticing that Robert, Hayley and everybody else were not up with her, she painfully staggered to her feet to look for them. Sarah couldn't repress a small moan. It felt like someone had taken her body and used it for a Bludger in a Quidditch match. Gaining her balance, she looked about. Nothing but a flat, greenless plain in all directions. Noting that it was dark out, Sarah took out her wand.
"Lumos!" she said to it. It began to light up, but then something odd happened. It flickered yellow for a moment, but then there was a great whizzing sound, and the yellow light turned purple. Sarah stared at it, and then the wand flickered off. Cursing, she tried again, but this time nothing happened at all.
"Great," she moaned to herself. It was just as well that the light didn't work, because her eyes had begun to adjust anyway. Grumbling, she looked behind her, and saw seven lifeless lumps on the ground, and she assumed that those were her counterparts.
She stumbled over, and shook the first body she came to, which happened to be Robert. He made a pitiful moaning sound in his throat and rolled over. Sarah shook him again, and he sat up, looking bewildered. He didn't say anything, though, and Sarah staggered over to the next person.
When they were all up, Gabriel, who was only semi-awake, looked around hazily. Yawning, she spoke.
"Where are we?" she asked. Hayley shrugged.
"Don't ask me," she said, with a bit of an odd strain to her voice. Hermione was about to speak, when Ron and Draco screamed at the same time and pointed to the sky.
Three large dark shapes were snaking around in the sky oddly, the dark silhouettes barely visible against the dark backdrop. Fire exploded in the sky; green, azure and dark pink. While the rest of the group screamed, Robert and Hermione squinted at the sky.
"They're dragons!" they screamed at the same time, and then blushed at each other. Harry stopped his bout of yelling to look up for a second.
"They don't look like dragons," he protested. It was true. These dragons weren't normal, or at least, they didn't look a thing like Norbert did. They were elongated and snake-like, with no legs, but they all had two very skinny, long, chicken limbs, that looked incapable of serving any useful purpose, let alone use for walking on. It was obvious that they were not ever meant to land on solid ground. They also had no apparent wings, so they must have had some type of sorcery on them to keep them in the air for so long.
Everybody, that is, except for Sarah, took out his or her wands in a battle stance. Sarah saw what they meant to do, and gasped.
"No! Wait! It won't-" it was too late. The dragons started to come closer, and everybody aimed their wands.
"Slephern Mephor!" they all cried - a sleeping charm, guaranteed to put even the toughest enemy to sleep. But, as soon as the yellow spell exploded from the end of the wands, the purple-black force came from out of nowhere again, and pounced on the yellow cloud, dowsing it. They all stared at their wands in bewilderment, and Sarah sighed.
"I tried to tell you," she snapped. "But no, let's not listen to Sarah, Sarah knows nothing.." she snarled with discontent. Gabriel cut her off before she went on ranting.
"Sarah, we get your point, now shut up," she said tensely as the giant beasts snaked closer and closer. Finally, they came within good viewing point.
They were, quite predictably, long and scaly, and their faces had licks of flame on the sides, it reminded Hayley a lot of the Chinese dragons that people dressed up under and paraded around the streets with. Up close, she could see that the dragons were respectively green, blue, and dark pink scales, in conjunction with the colors of fire that they breathed. Also, Draco could see the purpose of the two skinny limbs; they each had five long, sharp, needle-like silvery claws on them. They were unnatural; these dragons were, thought Ron with a bit of sardonic glee. He also thought that Charlie would have a field day if he saw these terrifying beasts.
The dragons circled the small party, which was drawing closer and closer together, all former rivalries forgotten, as colorful fire split the sky and tortured their eyes again. Hermione squealed and buried her burning eyes into Draco's shoulder - she thought he was Harry, and Draco blushed hotly. The three dragons were now in a tight circle around the group, and the blue one leered unpleasantly at them.
--Such tasty-looking morsels. I say we barbecue them now, and enjoy them fresh.-- He picked up Hayley, who screamed and flailed, under his grip. Sarah noticed that she still held the Bludger club in her left hand, and she brought it around in a wide butterfly-sweep, like one might do to a sword. She brought it down onto the blue dragon's arm, and she could hear the nasty, splintery snap of bone. The dragon howled and released Hayley, and she fell with a thud to the ground. The injured reptile brought it's blue eyes - the pupils were like a cats' - down onto Sarah. Sarah just realized that she had done a very stupid thing.
--Idiot human! Prepare to become flambé'!-- Sarah bent on her knees and got ready to duck. Robert ran up to her, prepared to stop her in case she tried anything else stupid. But another dragon - the pink one - came over and stopped the blue dragon from spraying them all with flame.
--Not now, Aquanus, not now. The master wants them all alive, and if you kill them all now, he won't like that.-- The blue dragon snorted.
--And what would you know about it, Carnash?-- he snarled, holding his broken arm up. The pink dragon - Carnash - looked at the quaking group of humans, and smiled toothily. She reached out a silvery claw-nail and gently stroked one of Sarah's curls. Sarah didn't move, knowing that if she did, she'd probably be impaled upon the claw-nail.
--She is brave.-- the dragon said, with almost a hint of affection in her mental voice. She turned to Aquanus. --The master values bravery.--
Harry started. Values bravery? Where had he heard that before? The blue one was about to snap back, but the green dragon, intervening for the first time since the beginning, spoke.
--Aquanus? Carnash? Shall we get on with it?-- Aquanus and Carnash looked at the dragon, like they had forgotten that he was there.
--You always spoil all our fun, Hunter.-- Aquanus complained, but he got to work, doing whatever the dragons were supposed to be doing.
The dragons started to rotate, counter-clockwise, around the group, faster and faster, until all of the colors melded together in a brownish haze. Then a mist of swirled colors came out of their scales, and enveloped the group. The mist was heavy and thick to the point that when Draco inhaled it, he could almost detect the liquid droplets in it. Then he was sleepy. So sleepy that he couldn't stand up, and his knees caved in on him. His head nodded off without his permission to do so, and everything went black.
# # #
Meanwhile, the entire school of Hogwarts had been thrown into absolute chaos over the events of the Quidditch game. The Quidditch game itself had been forgotten completely, much to Marcus Flint's chagrin, and everybody was now in the Great Hall, babbling confusedly over the events that had transpired. The teachers were huddled at the High Table, talking seriously over what might have happened. In the events, all rivalries had been completely forgotten along with the Quidditch game, and Gryffindors relayed rumors with Slytherins without a thought of enmity in either' mind. Essex, Alanya, Alex and Rosemary were huddled in the corner, talking to themselves, trying to figure out what happened.
"You know, I did notice that Sarah had been acting weirdly lately," Essex yelled thoughtfully, as you had to basically scream to be heard over the turmoil of the crowd. "She was very spacey, like her mind was totally on something else the entire time."
"It was the same with Gabby - Gabriel," Alanya yelled back. "I saw her before the game. Her face was all-uptight, but I didn't think it was just of nervousness. It seemed like she wasn't here mentally." Alex wrinkled his eyebrows thoughtfully.
"Robert was the same way, and it's quite odd for Robert to do that, since he's so down to earth most of the time. It started in Divination, when he had a Tarot card reading one day, and he was kind of off his tack from there," he said, remembering the look on Robert's face as he read Robert the meaning of his Tarot spread.
Rosemary opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the loud, grating sound of rusty hinges being opened. Someone was entering the Great Hall. All of the chatter stopped instantly. When they could see the figure, the school looked at it oddly.
It was Sybille Sandstone. Her hair fell down to her back in a plait, and she was sporting a dark blue robe with several golden chains and amulets hanging from her neck. She quickly scanned the room, as if looking for someone. She obviously didn't find whoever she was looking for, as she shot her sharp amber eyes at Dumbledore.
"They're gone, aren't they Albus?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at Sybille before clearing his throat and speaking.
"I don't know whom you mean, Sandy," he said, calling her by her pet name.
"Albus, don't be pert. You know I don't like it. I Saw that they were gone, your little quartet."
"If you mean Miss Hufflepuff, Miss Slytherin, Miss Gryffindor, Mr. Ravenclaw, yes, they are gone. They have also taken with them Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, Sandy?" Sybille rubbed one temple and muttered something to herself before replying.
"Your foursome came to me for help last night. They said that they needed my Inner Eye to help clear their paths, and show them The Way," she said. Minerva McGonagall raised her eyebrows.
"You were here last night, Sybille? Why wasn't I informed?" she asked. Sybille shook her head so hard that her plait of hair wobbled.
"No, they came to me, Minerva. Their cloudy Inner Eyes needed assistance, and they came to me. I don't know how they did it, but they came around 1:30 in the morning last night." When she had finished saying this, Madam Hooch banged a fist on the table.
"So that explains it," she said, her yellow eyes staring at the table as she seemingly fitted loose ends together. McGonagall looked at her.
"It explains what?" Madam Hooch looked at Dumbledore.
"I was going to tell you after the game, Albus, but last night some students broke into the broom shack, and four brooms are missing. The lock is damaged beyond repair, and there was a melted lockpick on the ground....Doesn't that Gryffindor girl own lockpicks?"
Dumbledore scowled thoughtfully at the ground. "It makes sense. They snack out of the school, undoubtedly through a passage"--his eyes twinkled at Fred and George--"got brooms and flew to Hogsmeade. Very clever and well planned, I must say. Now, tell me, Sandy. Why did they come to you in the first place?" he finished. Sybille fiddled with a sapphire amulet before she answered.
"They were all having visions of this dark castle, and I think that's where they've gone, Albus. We must talk about this in private," she said, eyes darting to all of the students, who were drinking in every word. Dumbledore nodded curtly.
"But of course." He raised his voice. "I leave the Head Boy and Girl in charge." All of the teachers filed out of the room, followed by Sybille Sandstone. They left, the door shutting behind them.
The room erupted into chaos again.
# # #
Hayley awoke with a groan; feeling like some giant ogre had taken hammers and pounded her with them. As soon as she woke up, without even opening her eyes, she knew that something was wrong. Her legs felt overly exposed, and she was wearing short sleeves. Trying to figure out what happened, it all came back. The black lightning, the dragons, passing out...and now she was here. Afraid to open her eyes, she swallowed. Then she realized how silly she was being.
"Hayley, you're not going to be able to know anything if you don't open your eyes," she chided herself softly. It took a great burst of willpower, but she shoved her eyes open.
Her eyes met a rough, stone wall. Turning over slowly, she noticed that she was in a big, gray room, with a crude oil lamp hanging in the middle of it to give off light, because there were no windows. The rest of the room was completely bare of anything else.
Looking down at herself, she saw that she was no longer in her black school robes, but in a plain, drab gray garment with short sleeves, that went down to her knees. Her feet were bare, and her wand was gone. There was a snort to the left of her.
She noticed now that she was on a thin pallet, and there were other pallets here besides her own. She saw Robert, Gabriel, Hermione, Ron, Draco and Harry, who were still sleeping peacefully beside her. But where was Sarah? Where was she at, anyway? The mere thought of pondering those complex questions boggled her mind alone, so she decided to leave them for a time when her head didn't throb so badly.
She thought briefly of waking the others up, but decided against it. She wanted to be alone right now, and talking would only make her head hurt worse. Instead she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. It was good just to listen to the silence.
# # #
Sarah stirred back to consciousness with a groan. She didn't know where she was, but it was quite comfortable, and she intended to go back to sleep. Rolling over, she almost succeeded in that task, but then her brain kicked in. She remembered about the lightning, the forsaken Quidditch match, Sybille Sandstone, and then she was too awake to go back to sleep. Mumbling a curse word, she sat up and opened her eyes.
She was in a huge bed, in an even bigger bedroom. The bed was a gigantic canopy, ebony wood and black adornments. The room itself was wooden paneled, with elaborate carvings in the panels. There was a vanity set on one side of the room, with brushes, perfume, and all other kinds of beautification objects. There were also two large, tall windows on either side of the bed that the curtains were drawn shut. The scary thing was that, in the elaborately carved fireplace, the fire was a flickering green, not the normal red that fire was supposed to be.
Edging out of bed, she noticed that she wasn't wearing her Quidditch robes, but a long, heavy black dress. Seeing this, Sarah scoffed.
"You'd think I was in mourning," she snarled to herself. Walking over to one of the windows, she pulled back the curtain.
It would have been a magnificent view, if there had been anything to look at. It was the same dirt plains that she had seen before, with the leafless trees, and no greenery. The only thing that made it worth looking at was the sky, which was still in its unusual swirl of pinkish-purple and gray that it always had been. There was a voice from behind her.
"You finally awaken," it said softly. Sarah whirled around, skirts swishing. Behind her was perhaps the oddest person that she had ever seen.
It was a girl, with pale skin. Sarah remembered thinking that Draco was pale. But this girl was paler than if death had kissed her personally. She had honey-brown hair that fell in shaggy locks to her shoulders, and blood-red lips. She had startling emerald green eyes, sharper than anything Sarah had ever seen. This all contrasted starkly against the drab brown dress that was much too big for her. In contrast to this, she wore a golden medallion that hung from her neck by a thin gold chain, and fine looking sandals. Sarah thought she had never seen someone that looked so beautiful, so plain, so poor and so rich at the same time. The girl smiled slightly.
"Welcome to castle Sapuis. I am Chenelle, your servant and guide. Can I assist you with anything?" she asked, with a droning voice. Sarah smiled back thinly, and voiced the first question that came to her mind.
"Where is everybody else, Chenny?" Sarah asked, calling Chenelle by a made-up nickname. Chenelle didn't seem to mind much. But she seemed to have trouble answering that question.
"I assume you mean everybody else in context to your friends? I don't know where they are, except for the fact that they aren't in the same wing with you." Sarah noticed that when she said this, her voice quavered a bit, and the words sounded like they had been memorized. It was obvious that Chenelle was lying. Sarah decided that she needed to go off and explore the castle herself, to see what really was up. Though by the demeanor of Chenelle, she didn't seem to be leaving. Sarah sighed.
"May I have something to drink?" she asked, trying to get Chenelle to leave. Chenelle raised an eyebrow.
"What would you like, Miss Slytherin?" she asked. Sarah winced when Chenelle said her name. She said the first drink that came to her mind.
"A pina colada," she said crisply. Chenelle looked at her oddly, and Sarah mentally smacked herself over the head, for not thinking of something better to say.
"A pina colada. You want to have a pina colada," Chenelle said slowly. Sarah sighed and mentally hit herself again.
"Hey. I said I wanted a pina colada, and if I said I wanted a pina colada, I want a pina colada!" she snapped at Chenelle. Chenelle raised her eyebrows again.
"All right then! You don't have to get testy with me, a pina colada it is then." Sarah watched her leave. Walking out into the hall, she noticed that it was darker than night in there. Retreating back into her room, she thought fast. She didn't have her wand, and if she did, it probably wouldn't work anyway. Looking around, she saw a candelabrum that was stationed on a wall opposite the gargantuan bed. It had five long-stemmed candles in it. Sarah strided up to it and tried to take one out. It wouldn't budge. Getting frustrated, she snapped it off of its base, leaving half of it there. Sticking the candle into the green fire, she soon had a little green flame on her candle. And with that, Sarah Slytherin set out to explore.
# # #
"I want out!" Gabriel Gryffindor cried for the thousandth time, banging on the rough stone wall, as there was no door. Draco scowled irritably.
"I want out too, but screaming at the walls isn't accomplishing anything, besides giving me a headache!" he snarled at her angrily. Gabriel turned to him, gave him an incensed stare, and then smacked at the wall again.
Robert sighed sadly and put his head in his arms. He would have been banging at the wall like Gabriel, but he was too tired. Besides, he didn't think that it would do any good. Ron sat down next to him.
"Could you explain something to me?" he snapped at Robert. Robert wearily looked back at him. It was too exhausting to even put forth the effort of snapping back.
"What?"
"Why the hell are we here with you? Where are we? Where is that Sarah friend of yours, and what was the castle I saw before coming here?" Ron seemed very irritable, and Robert didn't think much of answering him at first.
"I don't know why you're here, I don't know where we are, I have no idea where Sarah is, and I don't know what the castle is - yet. Are you satisfied?" Ron stuck his chin out and rested his head on his palms.
"No. I want to-" Robert cut him off angrily.
"I want to know where I am too, all right? Stop bothering me about it, because I don't know either!" Not wanting to deal with being interrogated anymore, Robert got up off of the floor and went over to where Gabriel was still banging on the wall like a maniac.
"You're just going to end up tearing up your palms doing that, you know," Hayley said softly to Gabriel. Gabriel looked at her palms, and they were indeed, red and smarting from the blows, and torn a little bit. She rubbed at her palms, and scowled at the wall in front of her.
"They put us in here, so there must be an opening somewhere.." she reasoned. Draco groaning and standing up interrupted her.
"You fool. Don't you know that some type of spell placed us in here? I don't think there is an opening," he finished, sneering. Gabriel and the rest of the group looked at him.
"And what kind of spell could do that, Malfoy?" asked Harry, only semi-interested.
"Dark Magic can, Potter. Don't you pay attention in Defense against the Dark Arts?" he drawled back, wiping dirt off of his short gray outfit.
"And I bet you know everything there is to know about the Dark Arts, Malfoy," Ron snarled. "From your father, perhaps?" Draco's eyes bulged with anger, but then they calmed down to a bit of smug gladness.
He made some sort of sign with his arms in the air, and muttered something. A purple blast of lightning emitted from the tips of his fingers, stopping just before it scorched Ron's toes.
"Nope. I learned that one by myself," he said coolly. Hermione stared at him in shock.
"You know, you can get expelled knowing that sort of stuff..." Draco shrugged and pretended to inspect the dirt underneath his fingernails.
"You can't get in trouble for knowing the Arts. It's all a matter of using them for evil or not," he finished smugly. "Your precious Professor Dumbledore knows them, believe it or not." Robert was still staring at the scorch mark that had been left on the perfect gray floor.
"You don't need a wand to do the Dark Arts?" Draco shrugged, obviously pleased that people were so interested in the subject that he knew so much about.
"For the minor spells, no. But if I wanted to do a big death curse, yes." Gabriel walked up to him and grabbed his arm, whipping him around.
"What can you do?" she asked frantically. Draco sighed and scratched the back of his head.
"Call Dark light, extinguish Dark light, call Dark lightning, I can countercurse simple charms and spells, and that's about all, without a wand," he finished. Gabriel nearly smacked him over the head.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier? Can't you blow a hole in the roof, or something?" she asked him, almost angrily. Draco shrugged.
"I seriously doubt it, Gryffindor," he said, grumbling. "I don't think that I can blow a hole in solid rock." Gabriel groaned.
"Well, you're going to try, whether you want to or not. Go on," she said pertly. Draco, for once, didn't feel like arguing. He made the sign again, muttered something, and pointed at the ceiling.
The lightning came from his fingertips, except it was much wider and darker than before. It struck the ceiling, and it made a slight dent, and that was about all. Gabriel turned back to Draco, who was sweating profusely, and weaving. He shot an angry glare at her.
"I told you it wouldn't work," he mumbled before collapsing into a dead faint. Hayley stared at him.
"Well. I guess we won't be trying that again, will we?" she asked. Robert got up and dragged Draco over to one of the pallets. Gabriel shrugged and turned back to the wall.
"Let me out," she cried, banging viciously at the wall again. On the other side of the room, Hermione groaned.
"She just doesn't learn, does she?" she asked, staring at Gabriel bloodying her palms on the wall.
# # #
Sarah quickened her pace along the fine, marble corridor. She didn't like this at all. In the last half-hour, she had seen no other sign of life, save the pictures, which only watched her every movement with glaring eyes. The slap of her glossy, impractical shoes was the only sound, and the echoes bounced off of the walls about five times before the noise stopped completely, which made it sound like someone was following her. Not to mention, save for the little green flame that sputtered and danced around on its wick, it was pitch black. The entire effect of the place was very eerie. Sarah shivered as the wind started to howl.
The green flame gobbled the wax on the long-stemmed candle very quickly, so after a half-hour, Sarah was left with a handful of hot melted wax with pieces of wick floating about in it. Her eyes stung because of the burns she was getting from the hot wax, but there was no way she was going to walk around in the dark.
Sarah had long since lost track of the place where she had started from - this entire castle was like a gigantic rabbit warren, with passages snaking left and right and anywhere else imaginable. But, surprisingly, there were very few rooms. She only counted five so far: a parlor, what looked like a billiards room, a library that was full of books in foreign languages, another bedroom, and an empty room. Sarah was beginning to wonder if she should have just stayed in her room, when she saw another door.
This one had an eerie green glow around the edges of it, and at first, Sarah wasn't sure if she dared enter it. But, she gathered her resolve and tentatively pushed the door open.
For a few moments, Sarah couldn't see anything, because of the blinding green light that came at her poor eyes that were used to the near-darkness. Finally, when her pupils adjusted themselves, Sarah examined the room.
It was completely devoid of features, and it was very small, not much bigger than a walk-in closet. The walls were stark white, save for the green glow that was bouncing off of them. The green glow itself came from a large crystal ball that was situated on a polished table. Green fog was swirling around in it. Entranced, Sarah reached out a finger and touched it.
As soon as her flesh met the crystal, the effect was like a magnet. Her entire hand slapped onto the ball, and green fog entwined her fingers, binding them there. There was a sucking sound, and Sarah felt herself becoming depleted of energy as the fog in the crystal changed from a green color to a drab gray.
With that, Sarah Slytherin collapsed.
# # #
The first thing that the teachers at Hogwarts did was inform the parents of the students that were missing. This basically meant that the Weasleys, the Grangers and the Malfoys were coming, as Harry didn't have any parents, and the other four were practically under the supervision of the school.
It was not a very happy meeting. Mrs. Weasley and Granger sat sobbing into their husbands' shoulders, Mr. Granger was deathly pale and silent, and Mr. Weasley and Malfoy were glaring daggers at each other, as if it was the other person's fault that their son was missing.
Sybille Sandstone had brought her best crystal ball with her, in hopes that she could get a vision of one of the children, or the castle itself. Mr. Malfoy was nearly beside himself with impatience.
"Woman, what is taking so gods-cursed long?!" he asked, drumming his fingers on the glossy table at which he sat. Sybille Sandstone and Sybill Trelawney both glared at him.
"You must have patience to See correctly, sir," Sybill Trelawney told him, with an acidic clip to her voice. "You wouldn't want us to be hasty and See something that isn't there, would you?" Lucius Malfoy said no more, but leaned back in his chair, grumbling about wasting time.
Mr. Weasley sighed. "He does have a point, though," he said, glaring at Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy glared back just as hatefully. "Can't we go through this any faster?" Sybill Trelawney sighed, and was about to answer, before Sybille Sandstone interrupted her.
"Watch out!" she cried. The white, smoky haze in the ball was quickly darkening and turning gray. Finally, it was overfilled with the smog, and it exploded, sending tiny bits of glass all over. People cried out in pain as little glass fragments bit into their skin.
The gray smoke whirled around the room a few times, like a comet with a long, misty tail. Finally it stopped. The adults watched in awe as the gray mist started shaping itself into something.
The gray smoke-image of Sarah Slytherin stared balefully out at the group, gray eyes blinking against gray skin, which nearly blended in with a gray dress of the same color. Smoky gray ringlets of hair fell to her shoulders. It was an exact replica of Sarah, save that she was totally gray. She was holding a puddle of something in her left hand, and a gray flame danced around in it.
--I suppose that that's why I blacked out,-- came her voice. But she didn't move her lips to speak; the voice was just projected into their brains. The entire group was silent with awe for a moment, but then Mrs. Weasley spoke up.
"Please! Please, do you know where my son is? Ron?" she asked plaintively. Sarah sighed and shook her head.
--No, I'm sorry, but I don't. No Luke, I don't know where Draco is either, or anyone for that matter. I was looking for them,-- she finished, glumly. Now Dumbledore fired a question.
"Just where are you, anyway?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing together thoughtfully. Sarah shrugged and shook her head.
--I have no freaking idea. Well, its called Castle Sapius, but, that doesn't help me much, but I do think that it is the castle that I keep on seeing.-- Dumbledore scowled at the ceiling in thought.
While he was doing that, Sarah let some of the wax she had in her hand slip through her fingers. It landed on her foot, and splattered on the table.
--Of all the god-cursed things...-- she trailed off, scraping some of the ghostly wax off of her shiny shoe. When she straightened herself up again, something odd happened. She felt like she was fading away. In fact, she was fading away. Sarah's vision fogged up, and the projection of herself grew fainter and fainter until she was gone.
The group of adults looked at each other, not much enlightened. Castle Sapius? That didn't do anybody any good, as nobody had ever heard of it before. Professor McGonagall stood up and straightened her glasses.
"What does everybody say to a field trip to the library?"
# # #
Sarah awoke on the floor of the crystal ball room, feeling very groggy and sick. Did she really go to Hogwarts, or was that just a dream? She then heard a voice.
"There you are, Sarah. We had the whole castle on alert for you." The voice was very deep pitched and even friendly. She craned her neck to look at the person that was talking to her, but then something was thrust into her mouth and forced down her throat. It was very thick, syrupy, and tasted like a disgusting mixture of overly sweetened jellybeans. Then she was very, very sleepy. Perhaps even sleepier than she had ever been in her life. Nothing mattered now. The mystery of the castle, the disappearance of her friends nothing. She just wanted to sleep.
"Just sleep, my young friend, we will see to things later on." The voice waved in and out of Sarah's ears. A part of her screamed to stay awake, but, not a very big part. Finally, she put her head down on the hard tile and fell into a dreamless slumber.
# # #
Robert picked at one of the fraying edges of his gray outfit and sighed. It was so dreadfully boring in here. There was no clock, no timepiece, not even a view of the sun in the sky to give a hint to the time. Besides, from what he had seen of the sky, there probably was no sun in the first place. Robert sighed again and looked around at the rest of the room.
Gabriel had long since given up beating on the walls and yelling, since all it had gained her was a hoarse voice and sore, bloody palms. She sat there now, mumbling things, (probably curse words) and gently massaging her mangled hands.
Hayley was as sedate and calm as usual, but, Robert noticed, that her bottom lip often started to quiver uncontrollably and she often had to bite it to keep herself from losing it. Her coppery hair was plastered to her face by both sweat and silent tears. Robert grimaced and looked on, gnawing on his knuckle uncomfortably.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were situated on the far side of the room, murmuring to each other in such soft whispers, that no matter how hard Robert tried, he couldn't hear a word. Instead of straining his ears further, he looked at Draco, who was still out cold on a pallet. The Dark Arts must really be exhausting, thought Robert with a slight bit of cynical glee.
What bothered Robert most about this place was the lack of air circulation. He wasn't claustrophobic, but with an entire room that was the same perpetual gray color, with only an iron oil lamp to break the drab monotony of it all, it was rather oppressive.
Putting his head between his knees, he gave the first plea for help that came to his mind. "Where the hell are you, Sarah?"
# # #
Meanwhile, the adults were basically scouring the entire library for information about this castle Sapius, and doing it noisily, much to Madam Pierce's annoyance. It had been about an hour, when Lucius Malfoy and his ever-present temper kicked in for their listening pleasure.
"This is stupid!" he cried after going through an entire volume of castles without finding anything. "Can't we do this any faster?!" Dumbledore looked at him with sort of an amused twinkle in his eye.
"Mr. Malfoy, I assure you, we will find your son and bring him back, in one piece," he finished. Mr. Malfoy was about to retort, when he sneezed.
"Bless you," McGonagall said crisply, turning a page in a book. Then she too sneezed. Dumbledore was about to say something, probably 'bless you', when all of a sudden, he sneezed too. Then Mr. Weasley sneezed. As did Mrs. Weasley, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and then, finally, Madame Pierce.
"What in the blazes.." started Mr. Granger, but he was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's squeal.
"Look!" she cried, pointing to the air above Mrs. Granger's head. A bright pink butterfly was floating about in the dusty air, as if looking for something. The adults watched, spellbound, as the insect flitted over to a bottom shelf, and landed on a very thick, dust-covered book.
Mr. Malfoy strided over and hefted the large book onto the table. It was very large, and covered by at least a half-inch of dirt. Sneaking a suspicious look at the butterfly that was perched on the edge of a chair, he gingerly wiped away some of the dust from the book.
It was bound in fine brown leather, tanned and faded from age. In the center of the book there was loopy, elegant gold script pressed into the soft leather, in a handwriting that Mr. Malfoy couldn't read. He squinted at it, when someone shouldered up to him and tapped the cover of the book with a wand.
It was Mr. Weasley. "Transleitor," he said tapping the letters one by one with a now glowing wand tip. The letters started to untwist themselves from each other, and then began retwining into more elegant letters - in English. Mr. Weasley looked smugly at Mr. Malfoy.
"'Had to learn that one to translate old muggle documents. What? A spell that the great Lucius doesn't know? Aren't we amazed?" He couldn't help it. After years of torment he had taken from Lucius, it was a nice feeling to give him a little hell for it. Lucius sneered elegantly back at him.
"Watch your tongue, Weasley," he snarled, reaching for his wand. "Or I'll see to it that you don't know any spells." McGonagall had had enough. Shouldering herself between the two men, she impaled them both with her infamous icy stare.
"You two are acting like children! Now, what's more important here, your squabbles, or your own sons?" Lucius and Arthur glared at each other again, but put their wands away.
"Sorry, Professor," they both mumbled at the same time, still keeping their eyes locked on the other person. Professor McGonagall raised a black eyebrow as the letters finished moving into place.
"The more things change, the more they stay the same," she muttered to herself, remembering Arthur and Lucius's pointless schoolboy arguments in their younger years. The letters finally finished sculpting themselves into shape.
The Ballad of the Underworld
McGonagall looked at the butterfly, Sprite, with interested disdain in her gaze. Sighing miserably, she grabbed a handful of the thinner-than-normal paper and flipped it over. Dust flung up, clouding her glasses. When she wiped them off, she saw that a part of the book had been ripped out, and it fluttered to the ground. More out of habit than anything, she bent over to pick it up. Unfolding it, she was surprised to see that it only had one four-lined phrase on it, while the other pages were chalk-full of tiny print. She read the small quote quickly.
Tonight is when I strike
The moment 'ere the morn
Castle Sapius 'tis the setting
The king be forewarned.....
The rest had been inked out. Minerva stared at it. She remembered vaguely about this play, this part had been written by an insane man bent on world domination, Khalibulus, and this was an exert from his diary. It took a couple of minutes for her to register that it said 'Castle Sapius' in it. When she did, she squealed. The rest of the adults, who had either been bickering or trying to stop the fighters turned around and looked at her. Minerva looked at the bright pink butterfly, which was still sitting placidly on the chair, appearing very pleased with itself.
"What's wrong, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked. McGonagall just shook her head and placed a hand upon her heaving chest.
"I think we just found our Castle Sapius...I want everybody in here to find any kind of information, be it an entire book or a sentence, on The Ballad of the Underworld. Now," she finished, still looking pale. Everybody looked at each other strangely, but didn't argue. Nobody argued with Professor McGonagall when she had that tone of voice.
Sprite flitted from the room, unnoticed by anyone.
# # #
Sarah swam to a conscious state for the second day, feeling very groggy, and with a very bad headache. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she looked around. She was in the same bedroom that she had started in earlier. Groaning, she flopped miserably back onto the bed, realizing that she was no closer now to finding her comrades than she was before. She then heard a voice.
"You're up, Sarah. It's about time." Sarah roused her head again, and saw another person looking at her, with a slight smile on his lips.
He had jet-black hair, not unlike Sarah's own, that was cropped very close to his head in a boyish style, that was slicked back with a handful of grease, to keep it from going awry. Under the headful of hair was a pair of black eyes, set into a pale face with a sharp-looking nose and thin lips that were pursed together in a semi-smile. He wore a black velvet tunic, and a black undershirt with poufy sleeves. With this he wore black leggings with black leather boots. Sarah made a face. Why was everything here black? Around his neck was a rather large silver medallion with an emerald set into it, strung on a thin silver chain. The light that bounced off of the green fire reflected into the jewel, which reflected into her eyes, making her wince. The boy smiled, and pointed at a lamp by her bed.
"Eleastrapa," he whispered. The lamp sprang up with a bright purple flame. Sarah stared sadly at it. In all events, it was a pretty flame, but she missed the normal red fire at home. The boy drug a chair up to Sarah's bedside and sat there, folding his long fingers politely in his lap, still smiling at her. Sarah shuddered. That smile was starting to get creepy.
"I assume that you have many questions," he said in a scratchy-smooth voice. "And I am here to answer them, young Slytherin." Sarah started and looked at the boy. He appeared to be only about seventeen, not that much older than she was herself. What could he possibly know?
"Where are my friends, where am I, why am I here, why am I dressed like this, why are you dressed like that, why can't I go home, who are you, and what do you want from me?" Sarah smiled when the boy looked a bit taken aback. He probably hadn't expected an entire barrage of questions at once. But then he regained his calm composure.
"You are at Castle Sapius. You are dressed like that, because this is a regal place. Same with me. The rest you will know in time." He got up and strided to the window, and pulled up a curtain, looking at the drab landscape. Sarah wrinkled her nose. That was not the answer that she wanted.
"You can tell me who you are, at least," she snapped at him. "You owe me that at best for abducting me from my home!" Her voice started out choppy and snappish, and rode a crescendo of emotion until it ended up almost at an irritated shout. The boy smiled, still looking out the window at the land. Sarah couldn't figure out just what he was looking at. Finally, he let the curtain fall back into place, and looked at her.
"You press hard, Sarah. All right, then. My name is Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said quietly. Sarah went pale white in the face, and scrambled to the farthest edge of the large bed. A newbie at the world of magic herself, even she knew whom Tom Marvolo Riddle was.
"But-but-but," she chattered to herself, staring at the boy, who looked very, amused. "You're over fifty years old, almost dead, and roaming the forests of Albania somewhere!" she nearly screamed at him, as if trying to get him to reason. Tom (Voldemort?) chuckled and shook his head.
"Well, so you do pay attention in Wizarding Current Events. I know that I never did." He settled himself back onto the chair he was once on, and looked at Sarah. "I'm not over fifty years old, I'm dead," he said flatly. Sarah raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to speak, but Tom cut her off.
"Let me finish. But, since I was already half-dead anyway, I couldn't completely die. I just couldn't live in the materialistic world - your world. But, I had the power and the resources to create my own little storybook dimension, I guess you could call it. Actually, Castle Sapius is a setting in a favorite book of mine, The Ballad of the Underworld. This is what it was like after the Good King Archibald was knocked off of the throne, and Khalibulus took over the Overworld and brought up the Underworld." He stopped, and almost dreamily gazed out the window at the pink-purple cloud haze before snapping back to life. "You got that?" Sarah bit her lip, her mind not exactly registering the fact that she was carrying on a civil conversation with the most evil wizard of all time.
"So...So you're trying to tell me that you're actually dead, but, this is an alternate dimension, created by you? So...What exactly are you? A ghost? A spirit? What?" The younger form of Voldemort shook its head.
"No. You're not reading me. When I created this world, I also created a body for myself. I can't make my own body in the materialistic world, but I can hold a body shape in this reality. See for yourself." He walked up to Sarah and stuck out a hand. Sarah looked at him apprehensively, but gingerly reached out and grabbed it. The flesh gave under her pressure like any other - any other living person's would do. Voldemort smiled and took his hand back.
"I chose my eighteen-year-old self, because when I was nineteen, I seriously started to get into the Dark Arts, and my body form took on a less...less appealing shape, shall we say." Sarah really didn't feel like pressing that issue any further than it had to be pressed.
"What about my friends?" Sarah whispered. "I won't cooperate any further unless you bring them here." Sarah knew that those words were foolhardy, she seriously doubted the fact that the former Dark Lord would stand her insolence for long. But, to her great surprise, he heaved a gigantic sigh and decided to humor her.
"Chenelle!" he called loudly. In a few moments, Sarah could hear the pattering of fast-moving feet down the hallway. The door swung open, and a red-faced, panting Chenelle flung herself into the doorway.
"You called, Master?" she breathed out, nearly keeling over from lack of breath. Tom nodded curtly, and spoke.
"Bring Miss Slytherin's friends here, now, please." Chenelle looked at him, mild surprise in her vibrant green eyes.
"But you said-" Voldemort didn't let her finish.
"I said now, Chenelle," he said in a low, dangerous whisper. Chenelle backed up a step, one hand on her golden pendant, which had begun to shimmer eerily. Sweat beading on her face, she nodded, and backed up another step.
"As you wish, Master Tom." With a quick nod to Sarah and a deep bow to the form of Voldemort, Chenelle left the room as hurriedly as possible. When she had turned the corner, Sarah saw a short flash of purple magic, and she could assume that Chenelle did some Dark Apperating.
Sarah wanted to ask what was going on with all of the pendants that Chenelle and Tom wore, but saw the look on the former Voldemort's face, and thought better of it.
# # #
Gabriel sighed and looked at the gray ceiling, her eyes unfocusing and making her head hurt. She was sure that she had been in here for at least five hours, and it was beginning to get so boring it was almost unbearable. Shutting her eyes, she tried to go to sleep to make the time go faster, but she knew it was futile, since her muscles felt all jumpy and itchy. They wanted to get up and walk, not go to sleep. Sighing, she sat up and started to stretch, wincing as long-inactive legs screamed in stiff pain. She didn't think that she had sat still for so long in her life. But she was about to be delivered.
The light in the small oil lamp started to flicker and grow larger, and not to mention, larger and purple. She sat up and looked at it.
The flame started to send up little sparks, which landed on the gray floor, leaving little scorch marks. The entire group (including Draco, who had woken up about an hour ago) backed up against the wall as far as they could go. Then the lamp blew off of its hinges, striking the wall and going out. It was now pitch-black in the small room, and Gabriel was not the only one that screamed. There was a small hole, about the size of a half-dollar on the top of the room where the oil lamp had been mounted, and a long, snakelike, tube-shaped mass of purple energy sifted through it.
Gabriel winced as the light dissipated, and opened her eyes again to see a girl, looking about her age, in a brown dress that resembled a potato sack that was much too big for her, pure green eyes, nearly white skin, and lips that were redder than her Quidditch uniform. She wore fine leather sandals that clung daintily to her small feet, and a large golden medallion that held a ruby hung from her neck. In her right hand, she held a black candle that sported a green flame on the edge of it. She looked around at the occupants of the room. They looked back at her.
"Medalios Prepotos," the girl whispered, and Gabriel felt a tingling sensation shoot up her legs and engulf her body. She tried to scream, but it was too late.
She was gone.
# # #
Minerva McGonagall rubbed her tired eyes. The entire group of adults, save Sybille Sandstone and Sybill Trelawney, had been in the library nearly all day, and they still hadn't found so much more than a scrap of other information on Castle Sapius or The Ballad of the Underworld, that was, until they heard Mrs. Granger's shrill voice from across the library, in the fairytale section.
"I found something! I found something!" she cried. All of the other adults dropped whatever they were looking through and ran to her side.
She had in her hand a thin blue book, which was very worn and torn with much use and age. It was slightly covered by a thin layer of white dust, but a quick swipe of Dumbledore's handkerchief covered that. In big silver print, it read:
Castles of the Fairytale and the Opera, Brought to Life!
It was evidently meant for younger readers, and had been very much used, because part of the book had a hole burned through it by acid, and the silver covering on the letters was coming off, leaving only a dark blue residue where the letter had been. But, nobody seemed to mind. Mrs. Granger had her thumb in the book, marking a page. Quickly, she flipped it open.
It was a half-and-half picture. One half of the picture had a beautiful castle, with white brick, standing out against a clear blue sky, with a fluffy cloud floating by every once in awhile. There was a clear pond, surrounded by green grass, a flowerbed spilling out with all kinds of exotic-looking flowers and brown dirt paths laced with ivory-colored seashells. Colorful banners waved from every turret roof, with soldiers on guard. There was also a couple, obviously a prince and a princess, sitting on a bench waving merrily at them.
The other half showed what must have been the same castle, but in a very different perspective. The castle was black and foreboding, the sky a bone-chilling mix of grays, pinks, and purples. There was no greenery to be seen, and the once clear pond was now soiled and almost black. Only scraps of faded, defeated fabric fluttered like grimy signs of defeat where the colorful banners once stood. No soldiers were to be seen anywhere. There were no paths, as the ground was barren and cracked mud and a dry wind whipped dust into the air. Even Mr. Malfoy shuddered.
"Pictured here are the two eras of Castle Sapius, as told about in The Ballad of the Underworld, written by Zavier the Zany during his years in Azkaban (1500-1536, his death). It is about a lovely maiden who is seduced by the evil Khalibulus, and used as a vessel to bring up the horrors of the Underworld. Nobody knows how the story is finished, as the rest of Zavier's work was burned in the Great Fire of 1536," Mrs. Granger read, looking up at her companions when she had finished. Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"So, Castle Sapius is a fictitious place made up by an insane man in the fifteen hundreds," he concluded dryly. "Are we positive that Miss Slytherin didn't misinterpret the name?" Lucius Malfoy shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.
"You can create your own realities with the Dark Arts," he finally concluded. "If you have enough expertise in the area, that is. I sure as hell don't, I don't mind admitting it, actually. I don't even think that Voldemort can. No, Weasley," he snarled at Arthur, "I don't know that from personal experience." Dumbledore bit his lip.
"Mr. Malfoy is correct. I remember hearing that, but, who would want to construct their own reality, and lure eight children there?"
"Someone very sick," Mrs. Weasley said matter-of-factly.
# # #
Lord Voldemort (Tom), was not exceedingly pleased when he learned of Sarah's choice of friends. When Hayley, Robert, Gabriel, Hermione, Ron, and especially Harry came into the room, his brows furrowed. He didn't seem to have that much of a problem with Draco, though, for reasons that we can all guess.
The newcomers were now all attired properly, not in the skimpy prisoners' outfits, but either in a black frock, or a tunic. Ron picked uncomfortably at his new outfit.
"I think I liked the gray getup better," he said as he adjusted his leggings. "I feel like I'm wearing a skirt." Harry hid a smile behind his hand.
Tom noticed this. Good, he thought, good that he doesn't know whom I am. That'll make things a lot easier. He cleared his throat, and the children snapped to attention.
"I am Tom, Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said clearly, looking at Harry Potter and the others, who staggered.
"VOLDEMORT?!" Harry cried, backing up into the farthest corner of the room. He didn't like this, as he was unarmed, and otherwise helpless. Tom watched him with an amused eye.
"I used to be. But, now is not the time to discuss past business, Potter. Sit down, why don't you?" Tom waved his hand, and a chair swept under Harry, bringing him back to where he had been standing before.
"What do you want?" Harry asked, his voice oozing with fear, sarcasm, and bravery at the same time. Voldemort just sighed.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. For the most evil wizard on the planet, or wherever we are, she thought, he sure is being civil, and actually decent. What's going on? Voldemort (or Tom Riddle) looked at her carelessly.
"The reason why, Mudblood, is that I know that you can't do anything here. You don't have any wand, and even if you did, you couldn't use it. Besides, you're not really talking to Voldemort. You're talking to Tom Riddle. For someone that is the queen of logic, you sure are acting pretty stupid," he finished with a bit of aloofness to his voice. Hermione bristled.
Well, maybe not that decent, she thought bitterly. If Tom Riddle read her thoughts at that moment, he didn't seem to care. Instead, he turned back to Harry.
"I don't want anything to do with you, Potter," he snarled in a soft voice. "In fact, I'm feeling pretty generous today. I'm willing to let you, your fire-headed friend, the Mudblood," - Hermione bristled angrily again - "and Malfoy over there go. Scott free. It's your lucky day, Potter. I actually don't want to kill you. I really want you to be alive when I get enough power to leave this place, just to see the look on your face," he stopped, and backed down a bit. "But, when that happens, you'll be an old man, so I wouldn't worry about it." Ron, however, was still clutching onto part of his speech with interest.
"You're going to let us go?! No torture chamber? No to the death battle? Isn't this a little against the villain codebook, or something? You're going to let us leave? Just like that? For free?" Ron spat. Tom shook his head.
"No, my hot tempered friend. Nothing is for free, you should know that. You can go. But they-" he motioned to Robert, Hayley, Sarah and Gabriel, who paled "-have to stay." Harry was about to protest the unfairness of this, when Tom chanted something, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were trapped inside a translucent, soundproof, purple-tinted bubble. Harry screamed soundlessly on the inside, while pounding on the bubble. Tom looked at him, amused for a second, before turning to the other four.
"Not to pressure you into a decision, or anything, but, just so you know, if you don't stay, they will stay, and go back to where you three came from." Gabriel, Hayley and Robert paled, and Sarah, who had no idea of what he was talking about, just stood there and looked confused. Tom Riddle went on.
"But, if you stay, I assure you, things will be better for you four than it would be for them," he motioned to the captives in the bubble. "I won't influence your decision any more." And with that, he walked off. The foursome gathered in a tight huddle, like they would before a Quidditch match.
"Well?" asked Hayley, her voice a little squeaky.
Robert shrugged. "Well what? What's there to be discussed?"
"I'd have this on my mind forever if we left them here," Gabriel said, hanging her head.
Sarah snorted. "You have too much of a conscious. But, think of it this way. They have families, and we - or at least Gabriel and I, don't. There'd be a lotta suffering going on down yonder if we went back," she said, remembering the sobbing people she had seen earlier. Gabriel stared at her grouchy friend. She had never really heard her talk about anything in conjunction to family before.
"You're right," Robert said slowly. Hayley nodded, though it seemed to take a lot of effort to make her head do the motion. They turned back to Tom, who was waiting patiently.
"We're staying," Sarah said, trying not to make her voice quiver. Tom broke into a big toothy grin.
"I knew you'd see it my way," he said. He clapped his hands, and the bubble started to shrink on its occupants, who were loitering inside. In an eye-blink's worth of time, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco were gone.
# # #
Imagine the adult's surprise when their children literally 'dropped' in on them. They had just given the picture of Castle Sapius to Professor Trelawney and Sybille Sandstone, so they could get a good image of the castle and maybe a glimpse of the children inside. It must be confessed, that even Dumbledore was beginning to think that they were relying a wee bit too much on Divination, and clutching at facts that a ghost-image of Sarah Slytherin had given them. Lucius opened his mouth and was about to make an irate remark about how this was taking so long, when the rest of the group (who was conveniently ignoring him) heard a loud,
"OOF!" They whipped around in time to see Lucius laying on the floor in surprise with Draco, dressed oddly in a tunic, laying practically on top of him, with his arms wrapped around his father's neck, as if he was clinging on for dear life. Next was Ron, who landed on top of Mr. Weasley, crying 'Mum! Dad!', and being glomped by his parents.
Hermione fell from seemingly nowhere, landing in an ungainly pile at her parents' feet. Her parents didn't even give her time to get up, they just wrapped their arms around their daughter, all three of them on a pile on the ground.
Lastly was Harry, who landed on his behind by the table. McGonagall, feeling a little sorry for him, since he had no parents to welcome him, walked up to him and gave his shoulders a little squeeze. She was rewarded by a watery smile, as Harry watched the other three families, jealous of even Malfoy, for having something that he could never have. Though he wasn't exactly sure that he would want Mr. Malfoy for a father, well...still, he was a father, at any rate.
"Where are the other four?" Sybill Trelawney wanted to know looking respectfully at the other Sybille that was across the table from her. She shrugged, and the other four children, hearing the conversation, dropped out of their parent's happy embraces for a moment, faces turning stark white.
"Oh my God..." Malfoy started, face going even paler than normal.
"They accepted..." Hermione said, looking like she was going to be sick all over herself.
"They accepted what?" asked Professor McGonagall, interested.
"Tom Riddle's bargain..." Ron trailed off, looking off into the misty white swirl of Sybill's crystal ball, wanting to See something in it for once.
# # #
"So," asked Gabriel nervously, about two minutes after their other four counterparts had left. "What do you want from us?" Tom Riddle walked up to her and tilted her face up to his, with one of his long, bony fingers.
"Gryffindor to the bone," he said, with a bit of resentment in his voice. "Well, anyway, you'll be very apt to learn..." he trailed off into nothing.
Hayley, who had been looking wistfully at where the purple bubble had been before, wishing that she had been inside of it, looked up.
"Apt to learn what?" Tom looked at her, and then asserted himself to look at the group as a whole.
"I," he said with a bit of haughtiness in his voice, "was the Dark Lord of your world for a while, but, I can no longer hold form in it, not even if I share another person's body and soul." The foursome looked at each other nervously. What was he getting at?
"I was the Dark Lord," he repeated, "and now, you four are my apprentices."
Author's note: Sorry, guys. I would have had this up earlier, except for the fact that my AOL account crashed. -_-;;. I decided to try my hand at portraying Voldemort in a different light...More of a cynical bad than a die-hard-evil-gotta-kill-Harry-Potter bad. Apprenticed in the Dark Arts? I wonder how Hayley Hufflepuff is gonna take that.....Well, tell me what you think! I finally got to the castle, did you like it? (Reviews are ALWAYS welcome, especially the nice, ego-pumping ones that always make me feel better after getting a C+ on an important math test _.....But, constructive criticism is always helpful too!)
~Moxie ^_^ (As always, if you don't like, no flames!)
Disclaimer: Everything that is in the Harry Potter books is Mrs. Rowling's. Everything that isn't, is property of me. (Yes, that is including everything in The Ballad of the Underworld, in case you were wondering!)