--
Darkness.
Ginny's painful groan echoed around her as she tried to raise her head, but it wouldn't budge. Some kind of cloth was tied tightly around her neck, wrists, ankles and around her waist to force her to lie motionlessly on the floor of the room. She sub consciously watched her harsh, gasping frosty breath, with eyes slightly open with a tired longing for sleep.
This is it, Ginny whispered in her mind. Alone forever. Her very heart felt sick and freezing inside. She couldn't move, nor blink, and her throat blazed with such a fire when she coughed- her faint colored eyes watered, as if speaking of the horrors she was feeling.
Inside, the spell was slowly taking over her lungs to cause Ginny to cough up now huge amounts of thick, dark red blood. The sparkling liquid slid down over the sides of her pale white lips, staining her skin and vaguely blanketing her freckles with a tinted crimson, almost giving color back into her face with a sickening twist behind it.
If noticed, the fireplace was blazing with a bright, green light, occasional sparks spitting here and there from its intensity. But the fire was icy cold, which in tern froze Ginny's very heart, causing the virus to spread through her more rapidly. As Malfoy had said before, the poor young girl only had until midnight to live, and by the looks of the clock placed on the mantel of the fireplace, that was in exactly 20 minutes.
Help....
"Ah, Ginny. Ginny Weasley, am I right?" For a moment, Ginny could only stare helplessly up at the gray ceiling of the office, still tied to the floor. But ever so slowly, the dark cloaked figure slipped into her line of vision. It was Draco Malfoy.
"P-P-Please," Ginny forcedly sobbed the words out of her tired, agonizing lungs. Draco merely smirked evilly down at her, his eyes flashing with amusement.
"Potter will be here soon.. Or at least, he better be, for your sake." His light gray eyes traveled to the clock on the mantel once more as it slowly moved it's long hand upon the black lettered three. "15 minutes, Weasel, 15 minutes."
Very slowly, Ginny felt her body begin to detach itself from consciousness. Her world began to turn upside down, her eyes closing with it. She could also vaguely feel the tight binds around herself disappear, but it was no longer any use. The last thing Ginny remembered, was staring up at that smirk plastered on Malfoy's face, which made her skin crawl and her heart freeze like ice. Then..
Black.
--
Hermione sat on the floor of the living room, with her right hand sliding over the various lettering of incantations, ingredients for various healing potions and what not, while her left hand continuously poured different colored liquids into the large, black cauldron, causing the potion to bubble and hiss.
"Ron, we need two and a half cups of powdered inûtilius herba," she said, eyeing the ingredients listed on the page. For a moment, the faint sound of pouring into a cup stopped. Hermione looked up at Ron, kneeling next to the coffee table with an expression of confusion as he held the water pitcher in his hand, poising it over a small cup.
"Powdered intulious herbology- what?!"
"Weeds, Ron. It's Latin for weeds," Hermione turned back to the frothing potion, hiding the small smile that crept up to her lips. She listened as Ron got up, and raced out to the backyard just as Neville walked into the living room with a handful of crimson flowers. He set them on the coffee table, his face contorted as if he smelled something horrible.
"Neville.. What's-" but Hermione knew at once why he had had that expression as the sickening aroma of the blood stained flowers reached her nose. On an instinct, Hermione clasped her hand over her face, trying to rid the smell away from her senses.
"Don't stop Hermione- Ginny only has 15 minutes!" Neville exclaimed, helping by crushing the petals of the so - called maestus flower, and pushing them into the cauldron, causing its fumes to turn a sickly brown. Ron came in a few minutes later with a jar of the powdered weeds, and when it had settled into the potion, Hermione stood up, pushing her sleeves further up her arms, and filled a vile with the dark green potion.
"It's finished," she whispered with a hint of pride as Ron grabbed the Floo Powder, and stuck his wand in his pocket. Neville looked somewhat worried, but stepped back far enough to give the two some room to travel.
"Tell mum we've just gone out, and not to worry alright Longbottom?" Ron asked, stepping into the fireplace, his hand outstretched as the powder slid through his fingertips.
"Yes, I will. Not to worry, just be careful, and save your sister!" Ron nodded, and straightened himself up, opening his mouth.
"MALFOY MANNOR!"
The fireplace blazed with a sudden green breath of life as the flames engulfed Ron's body, and just as suddenly as it had happened, he was gone. Hermione took a handful of the powder as well, and stepped into the fireplace making sure to mind her head of the mantel.
"Take care of the Weasley's, Neville.. Their all such nice people," Hermione said, tucking the vile deeper into her cloak pocket, and raising her hand forward. Neville nodded, and watched as Hermione took a breath.
"MALFOY MANNOR!"
Then, they were gone.
--
Harry lie on his back, the dust of the fireplace causing him to cough as he stood up slowly, groping around the dark wooden floors of the room for his glasses.. Ah, there they were. Putting them on, and making sure his back was to the wall, Harry stood up, wand raised as he walked further into the large oval room. Books upon books lined the walls, each of them oddly the same, dull gray color, with faded eerie writing that looked as if they were burned onto the leather.
Paintings of vicious looking creatures hung around the room, each with glittering eyes and menacing expressions, as if they might actually jump out of the portrait. But as he eyed the large, black, double doors, the long creature that had been burned into the wood stood out most hauntingly.
A basilisk.
It's bright yellow eyes stared fixedly right at the very spot where he stood at that moment, glaring at Harry, seeming to dare him to come anywhere near the door to his way out. But this wasn't new for Harry, it all felt so familiar, and everything from his second year came back in a rush.
*** Harry looked back at the snake, willing himself to believe it was alive. If he moved his head, the candlelight made it look as though it were moving.
"Open up," he said.
Except that the words weren't what he heard; a strange hissing had escaped him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into. ***
Harry stared fixedly at the markings on the door, and it didn't take him long to believe the burned, embedded picture was a real snake.
"Open," Harry, hissed a low - sounding indescribable word, which the doors reacted to immediately. The snake's eyes blinked once, as it's once wooden brown scales, turned a faint, living green. To his horror, the basilisk detached itself from the door, and slithered quickly across the floorboards, slowly closing in on the space between it and him.
"Stupefy!"
For a moment, the snake froze on the ground, giving Harry as much time as he needed to run out of the room, and lock the door tightly behind him. As he made his way down the hall, he heard two yells of fright from the room he had just come from that made Harry's heart drop.
It sounded like Ron and Hermione.
--
Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain in the pantomime
On and on Does anybody know what we are living for?
Whatever happened, we leave it all to chance
Another heartache, another failed romance
On and on Does anybody know what we are living for?
The show must go on
The show must go on
--
Darkness.
Ginny's painful groan echoed around her as she tried to raise her head, but it wouldn't budge. Some kind of cloth was tied tightly around her neck, wrists, ankles and around her waist to force her to lie motionlessly on the floor of the room. She sub consciously watched her harsh, gasping frosty breath, with eyes slightly open with a tired longing for sleep.
This is it, Ginny whispered in her mind. Alone forever. Her very heart felt sick and freezing inside. She couldn't move, nor blink, and her throat blazed with such a fire when she coughed- her faint colored eyes watered, as if speaking of the horrors she was feeling.
Inside, the spell was slowly taking over her lungs to cause Ginny to cough up now huge amounts of thick, dark red blood. The sparkling liquid slid down over the sides of her pale white lips, staining her skin and vaguely blanketing her freckles with a tinted crimson, almost giving color back into her face with a sickening twist behind it.
If noticed, the fireplace was blazing with a bright, green light, occasional sparks spitting here and there from its intensity. But the fire was icy cold, which in tern froze Ginny's very heart, causing the virus to spread through her more rapidly. As Malfoy had said before, the poor young girl only had until midnight to live, and by the looks of the clock placed on the mantel of the fireplace, that was in exactly 20 minutes.
Help....
"Ah, Ginny. Ginny Weasley, am I right?" For a moment, Ginny could only stare helplessly up at the gray ceiling of the office, still tied to the floor. But ever so slowly, the dark cloaked figure slipped into her line of vision. It was Draco Malfoy.
"P-P-Please," Ginny forcedly sobbed the words out of her tired, agonizing lungs. Draco merely smirked evilly down at her, his eyes flashing with amusement.
"Potter will be here soon.. Or at least, he better be, for your sake." His light gray eyes traveled to the clock on the mantel once more as it slowly moved it's long hand upon the black lettered three. "15 minutes, Weasel, 15 minutes."
Very slowly, Ginny felt her body begin to detach itself from consciousness. Her world began to turn upside down, her eyes closing with it. She could also vaguely feel the tight binds around herself disappear, but it was no longer any use. The last thing Ginny remembered, was staring up at that smirk plastered on Malfoy's face, which made her skin crawl and her heart freeze like ice. Then..
Black.
--
Hermione sat on the floor of the living room, with her right hand sliding over the various lettering of incantations, ingredients for various healing potions and what not, while her left hand continuously poured different colored liquids into the large, black cauldron, causing the potion to bubble and hiss.
"Ron, we need two and a half cups of powdered inûtilius herba," she said, eyeing the ingredients listed on the page. For a moment, the faint sound of pouring into a cup stopped. Hermione looked up at Ron, kneeling next to the coffee table with an expression of confusion as he held the water pitcher in his hand, poising it over a small cup.
"Powdered intulious herbology- what?!"
"Weeds, Ron. It's Latin for weeds," Hermione turned back to the frothing potion, hiding the small smile that crept up to her lips. She listened as Ron got up, and raced out to the backyard just as Neville walked into the living room with a handful of crimson flowers. He set them on the coffee table, his face contorted as if he smelled something horrible.
"Neville.. What's-" but Hermione knew at once why he had had that expression as the sickening aroma of the blood stained flowers reached her nose. On an instinct, Hermione clasped her hand over her face, trying to rid the smell away from her senses.
"Don't stop Hermione- Ginny only has 15 minutes!" Neville exclaimed, helping by crushing the petals of the so - called maestus flower, and pushing them into the cauldron, causing its fumes to turn a sickly brown. Ron came in a few minutes later with a jar of the powdered weeds, and when it had settled into the potion, Hermione stood up, pushing her sleeves further up her arms, and filled a vile with the dark green potion.
"It's finished," she whispered with a hint of pride as Ron grabbed the Floo Powder, and stuck his wand in his pocket. Neville looked somewhat worried, but stepped back far enough to give the two some room to travel.
"Tell mum we've just gone out, and not to worry alright Longbottom?" Ron asked, stepping into the fireplace, his hand outstretched as the powder slid through his fingertips.
"Yes, I will. Not to worry, just be careful, and save your sister!" Ron nodded, and straightened himself up, opening his mouth.
"MALFOY MANNOR!"
The fireplace blazed with a sudden green breath of life as the flames engulfed Ron's body, and just as suddenly as it had happened, he was gone. Hermione took a handful of the powder as well, and stepped into the fireplace making sure to mind her head of the mantel.
"Take care of the Weasley's, Neville.. Their all such nice people," Hermione said, tucking the vile deeper into her cloak pocket, and raising her hand forward. Neville nodded, and watched as Hermione took a breath.
"MALFOY MANNOR!"
Then, they were gone.
--
Harry lie on his back, the dust of the fireplace causing him to cough as he stood up slowly, groping around the dark wooden floors of the room for his glasses.. Ah, there they were. Putting them on, and making sure his back was to the wall, Harry stood up, wand raised as he walked further into the large oval room. Books upon books lined the walls, each of them oddly the same, dull gray color, with faded eerie writing that looked as if they were burned onto the leather.
Paintings of vicious looking creatures hung around the room, each with glittering eyes and menacing expressions, as if they might actually jump out of the portrait. But as he eyed the large, black, double doors, the long creature that had been burned into the wood stood out most hauntingly.
A basilisk.
It's bright yellow eyes stared fixedly right at the very spot where he stood at that moment, glaring at Harry, seeming to dare him to come anywhere near the door to his way out. But this wasn't new for Harry, it all felt so familiar, and everything from his second year came back in a rush.
*** Harry looked back at the snake, willing himself to believe it was alive. If he moved his head, the candlelight made it look as though it were moving.
"Open up," he said.
Except that the words weren't what he heard; a strange hissing had escaped him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into. ***
Harry stared fixedly at the markings on the door, and it didn't take him long to believe the burned, embedded picture was a real snake.
"Open," Harry, hissed a low - sounding indescribable word, which the doors reacted to immediately. The snake's eyes blinked once, as it's once wooden brown scales, turned a faint, living green. To his horror, the basilisk detached itself from the door, and slithered quickly across the floorboards, slowly closing in on the space between it and him.
"Stupefy!"
For a moment, the snake froze on the ground, giving Harry as much time as he needed to run out of the room, and lock the door tightly behind him. As he made his way down the hall, he heard two yells of fright from the room he had just come from that made Harry's heart drop.
It sounded like Ron and Hermione.
--
Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain in the pantomime
On and on Does anybody know what we are living for?
Whatever happened, we leave it all to chance
Another heartache, another failed romance
On and on Does anybody know what we are living for?
The show must go on
The show must go on
--