A Good Old Fashioned Fairy Tale
A Good Old Fashioned Fairy Tale
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me but to ole J.K.R. :)
Chapter 2: And Strange Awakenings
Harry woke with a start to the sound of breaking glass, and his eyelids flickered open to the fading iridescent stars, he'd pinned to his canopy years before. Moaning, he rolled over, fumbling on his nightstand to find his glasses. His hand fitting around the comforting grasp, he set them on his nose and peered blearily at the clock next to his bed. The glowing red letters blinked at him in the darkness, 12:00.
He let out a sigh. Why did he always wake up in the middle of the night like this? He'd been having the most bizarre dream, but now that he tried so hard to remember it, it only eluded his grasp and dissapeared into the recesses of his mind.
Whatever it was he remembered it had been horrible, he felt all damp and shaky. He pressed his hand to his forehead, trying to remember if his scar had been aching, and as he drew his hand away, he noticed something on his fingertips. HIs breath caught in his throat and he gaped in horror. On his fingertips were the rusty red traces of blood.
His scar had never bled before, something horrible must be happening. Mind racing frantically, Harry wasn't sure what he should do. Should he go to the hospital wing? Write Sirius? Tell Dumbledore? All the possibilities darted around in his head and he couldn't seem to grasp hold of one, not one of them seemed sensible. And then, with a sort of wave of relief, he realized what to do and smiled. He would tell Catherine. Beautiful, sensible Catherine. She always knew what to do.
Harry swung his feet over his bed and stepped onto the floor. Puzzled, Harry felt something sharp beneath his feet. And for the first time that night, he looked to the side of his bed.
For a brief, fleeting moment Harry thought an angel had crashed through his window and lay crumpled on the floor. There were bits of broken glass scattered all over the ground, and the window had a jagged, gaping hole where the glass had been. A ribbon of moonlight streamed through the window, and in the patch of silvery light lay a girl. Her long, reddish gold hair streamed over her shoulders, curling slightly at the ends and catching the light of the moon, making it seem like waves of liquid gold. She had on a dress, with narrow silken straps, cut very simply, with yards and yards of flowing silk. She lay face down, her hair spread all over the ground, speckled with shards of broken glass. Her upper back was exposed and on it were two narrow, vertical scars covered partly by the back of her dress. Harry wasn't sure if it was the funny light of the moon or just his eyes, but the scars appeared to be a pale shade of silver.
He stared at the strange scene, blinking slightly, not sure if what lay before him was real. It was like something out of one of his dreams and he pinched himself quickly to see if he was indeed awake. The pinch felt very real, so Harry crept forward and knelt down beside the fallen angel. He placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. She remained motionless. He shook her again, this time a bit harder, but she still didn't move. This time, he proceeded to gently roll her onto her back, so he could get a good look at her face. And very, very slowly he turned her over and gasped. Ginny! This girl, this-this fallen angel was Ginny, Ginny Weasley. He now recognized the delicate features, the sprinkling of freckles, the auburn hair. What had happened to her? His eyes quickly scanned her body for any kind of mark, but he saw none. He saw no cuts, no bruises. What on earth had happened?
But before Harry could even guess what had occured, a very strange thing happened. A small, silvery light seemed to ignite outside the window, and came swirling into the room. It flickered briefely over Ginny's silent form, then twirled several times, round and round Harry's head before coming to rest on his forehead. Before Harry could even think, a slicing, mindshattering pain erupted in his scar. Gripping his head with both hands Harry collapsed onto the floor next to Ginny, writhing and twisting on the glass ridden ground.
But, almost as suddenly as it began, it was over, and Harry lay panting, feeling weak and feverish. He sat up slowly and brushed his hand across his forehead and looking at his hand once more, he shrank back in disgust. His fingers were now covered with a sticky black goo. With his sleeve, he wiped off the remaing traces of the clinging, ink colored ooze and wondered distracedly what his scar was up to tonight.
Then, once more, before Harry had time to do a thing, the door of the room burst open, and in stormed a girl with waves of thick dark hair, large expressive green eyes, and full crimson lips which were currently fixed into a horrible sneer.
When she entered the room it was like a thunder storm had suddenly whirled in with her, and if you were to steal one look at her wrathful glower, it would be extremely difficult to hold your compusure, and no shrink and cower under her gaze. Harry *did* cower, and he did what he used to do when Uncle Vernon got angry, he tried to make himself invisible and melt into the carpet. He also unconciously edged closer towards Ginny, as if trying to shield her from this turbulent storm cloud.
She was so furious, her anger was almost tangible. Harry could feel her hate hanging in heavy dark folds around the room.
"Who did this?!" She shrieked, causing the hangings around the four posters to tremble.
"Who-who did what?" Harry managed to eek out. But the girl ingored him,
"Where is she? The devil! I will find her! Where has she gone?" she demanded once again, her seething glare, darting around the room.
"I- I don't know. But... who?"
"Who?!" The girl shrieked, " 'Who' is right! She thinks she can hide, the devil! But she can't, not for long!" She shook her fist wrathfully at thin air. "Damnit! Why did you have to interfere, and make a mess of everything?" She called into the air, as if she was expecting someone to answer. "Hmmm?" She stamped her foot in frustrarion, grinding bits of glass into the rug.
Harry stared up at her in awe. Was this the girl who he'd been in love with? She was beautiful, but only in a deathly sort of way. Her eyes flashed malevolently and her dark hair quivered with rage. She gave one last stamp, then seemed to dissolve back into her normal self, and began noticing things around her. She smoothed her hair camly and straightened her robes. Then, noticing Harry, she flashed him a nasty sort of grin, but the grin twisted immediately into a frown as she laid her eys upon the delicate, yet still unconcious form next to Harry. Her eyes flickered over the marks on Ginny's back and her frown contorted wickedly into a sneer.
"Ahh, I now see the roots of our problem beginning to form. I should have known, she wasn't human. No matter, everything will be taken care of very soon. The bloody idiot thought she was wise in retracting the love potion, but that's inconsequential now. It doesn't even matter."
Harry's head buzzed strangely and he wished things would slow down. What was she on about? Had she gone crazy? And Harry could no longer think what he found attractive in this girl, in fact she seemed like a totally different person, and he had thought he'd loved her. Harry gave an involuntary shudder. His mind felt bleary again, and everything was jumbled aobut inside his confused brain, it seemed to be working in slow motion, or maybe everything else whas just happening in fast forward. Anyways, Harry wondered distantly, Who wasn't human? And who was she calling a bloody idiot? What potion?
Things may be a little bit more difficult for me, but everything will work out just fine. C'mon, on your feet, lover boy." She gave Harry a sharp kick, and it seemed to jolt his brain back to life. Harry scuttled backwards like a jittery crab, and gripped Ginny's wrist tightly in his hand. It suddenly seemed toclick with him that this woman was dangerous and he had to get as far away from her as possible. But although, one part of his brain seemed to be working correctly, the other pieces were slow in catching up.
So, he said, the first thing that drifted into his head. "I don't love you." Catherine let out a cold, vicious laugh, as she continued to walk towards Harry.
"Obviously, you, little rat, the potion's all seeped out of you." This statement confused Harry, but he continued to edge backwards, dragging Ginny with him, until his back was flat against the wall, and he had no place to go.
He gazed up at her, fear embedded in his emerald green eyes, and she leaned down towards him, till she was only inches from his face. When she spoke, it was in a snake like whisprer, as soft as death, "That's right, Potter. Be afraid, be very afraid."
Harry blinked, and supressed a shudder, trying to keep his gaze steady, still keeping a death grip on Ginny's wrist. But in a single motion, Catherine had flicked Ginny's arm out of Harry's grasp and she held Ginny tightly to her, with a knife pressed against her throat. Harry cried out in shock, but again, before he could move, Catherine issued her warning, "Move one muscle Potter, and the princess dies."
Ok, just one more note, I know it's really confusing and doesn't make any sense, but that's because everything's going to get revealed in further chapters, and I know it's strange, but just stick with me ok? Cause, I think you'll like it, all righty thanks, and until next time, ciao!
