Disclaimer: Character and his magical ability to coax innocent readers into falling for their charm is not mine. It all belongs to the awesome woman named. J.K. Rowling.
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I sat in the grasp of the green armchair of my House Common Room. Everyone's asleep. No one would be up at 3 am, except me. The fired blazed on, casting an erie glow upon the stone walls of the room, giving it a look that, unfortunately, reminds me of home.
I run my hands over the binding of the book that is resting in my lap. It was lying on the ground the other day. So, being the curious one I am, I took it. Turns out, this is one of those stupid Muggle novels, and, as of no surprise, was dropped by that Mudblood, Hermione.
I found it two weeks ago, and since then, I've been down in this dungeon of my Common Room reading into the daylight hours. A secret no one in this House knew of, and I am glad of that fact. This book. This cursed book.
My goons have noticed something different about me. They think I've suddenly changed over night. No one knows I've been struggling with this change since I was only one year old. Only this book has been the one thing to push me. I underestimated this Muggles. There hasn't been a piece of literature that has entranced me as this one.
If anyone were to know of this, these midnight adventures into Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven, why...I don't know what I'll do. This Divine Comedy has lured me from the darkness of my room and into the dim lighted Common Room.
I watched the light flicker across the damp walls. Which path must I choose?
How could a piece of Muggle literature become so powerful to transform me, a solid creature that feeds off the fears of those beneath me, into someone as confused as I am now? I feel as though something has just pounded over and over again upon my head. Confusing thoughts fumbled around in my mind. Maybe everyone had a little magic in them, even the stupid Muggles. What else could explain the capture of my soul with just printed words on paper?
I set the book in my bag next to the chair. No one can see the book. It's not to leave my possession at all.
A ray of light began to creep through one of the windows high on the wall in this Common Room. Everything came into focus. Had I really been out here all night? There was a beam of light landing on a beautiful painting of a serpent coiling around an apple. I looked at it carefully, noticing the sly glint in the serpent's eyes staring straight at me, enticing me to follow it. The stare almost made me want to reach out and take the apple, if I could. It was like, it could read my thoughts, exposing me for what I'm worth. Not much. Perhaps I'm imagining it, causing thoughts I don't want to think about to surface. The light grew bigger and exposed the whole painting. There was nothing but the serpent, apple, and black space stretching to the top of the picture. It was an empty picture.
There was a noise from up the stairs, the early risers were getting out of bed. Suddenly I felt no need to rush away to get back to my room. No need to go to my green and silver canopy. I slowly gathered my things and made my way to the doorway.
"Hey, Malfoy!" a voice called. I turned to face him. Goyle stood at the entrance to the guy dorm hallway. "Where ya goin'?" he asked with a tired drawl. "Off ta hex Potter's broomstick to knock him off today?"
"Nah. I'm going to find Dumbledore. I need to ask him something." Goyle looked at me quizzically. It was too much for his tiny brain to compute.
"Why would you want to ask that Muggle-lover anything? Especially this early."
I turned and opened the door. "Actually, I hope it's not too late," I said mostly to myself. With that, I left.
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I sat in the grasp of the green armchair of my House Common Room. Everyone's asleep. No one would be up at 3 am, except me. The fired blazed on, casting an erie glow upon the stone walls of the room, giving it a look that, unfortunately, reminds me of home.
I run my hands over the binding of the book that is resting in my lap. It was lying on the ground the other day. So, being the curious one I am, I took it. Turns out, this is one of those stupid Muggle novels, and, as of no surprise, was dropped by that Mudblood, Hermione.
I found it two weeks ago, and since then, I've been down in this dungeon of my Common Room reading into the daylight hours. A secret no one in this House knew of, and I am glad of that fact. This book. This cursed book.
My goons have noticed something different about me. They think I've suddenly changed over night. No one knows I've been struggling with this change since I was only one year old. Only this book has been the one thing to push me. I underestimated this Muggles. There hasn't been a piece of literature that has entranced me as this one.
If anyone were to know of this, these midnight adventures into Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven, why...I don't know what I'll do. This Divine Comedy has lured me from the darkness of my room and into the dim lighted Common Room.
I watched the light flicker across the damp walls. Which path must I choose?
How could a piece of Muggle literature become so powerful to transform me, a solid creature that feeds off the fears of those beneath me, into someone as confused as I am now? I feel as though something has just pounded over and over again upon my head. Confusing thoughts fumbled around in my mind. Maybe everyone had a little magic in them, even the stupid Muggles. What else could explain the capture of my soul with just printed words on paper?
I set the book in my bag next to the chair. No one can see the book. It's not to leave my possession at all.
A ray of light began to creep through one of the windows high on the wall in this Common Room. Everything came into focus. Had I really been out here all night? There was a beam of light landing on a beautiful painting of a serpent coiling around an apple. I looked at it carefully, noticing the sly glint in the serpent's eyes staring straight at me, enticing me to follow it. The stare almost made me want to reach out and take the apple, if I could. It was like, it could read my thoughts, exposing me for what I'm worth. Not much. Perhaps I'm imagining it, causing thoughts I don't want to think about to surface. The light grew bigger and exposed the whole painting. There was nothing but the serpent, apple, and black space stretching to the top of the picture. It was an empty picture.
There was a noise from up the stairs, the early risers were getting out of bed. Suddenly I felt no need to rush away to get back to my room. No need to go to my green and silver canopy. I slowly gathered my things and made my way to the doorway.
"Hey, Malfoy!" a voice called. I turned to face him. Goyle stood at the entrance to the guy dorm hallway. "Where ya goin'?" he asked with a tired drawl. "Off ta hex Potter's broomstick to knock him off today?"
"Nah. I'm going to find Dumbledore. I need to ask him something." Goyle looked at me quizzically. It was too much for his tiny brain to compute.
"Why would you want to ask that Muggle-lover anything? Especially this early."
I turned and opened the door. "Actually, I hope it's not too late," I said mostly to myself. With that, I left.