Hurricane
Draco couldn't see anything by the blinding light that cascaded his face. Pulling an arm protectively over his eyes, he kept them tightly shut, his heart racing against his chest, with both fear and apprehension. What was happening, and how could he stop it? His eyes stinging, he hesitantly removed his arm and stared. It seemed as if he had entered some sort of parallel universe of some sort - light was glowing, but not as much as before, the door had slammed shut at his back, concealing any escape, and he was in a small, cozy-looking circular room that had a fireplace, a table, a chair, a rain-splattered window above it, and consisted of a reading Weasley. It was the smallest Weasley, the only girl, whose hair was behind her ears neatly in a mass of red wavy hair that looked brushed and were similar to waterfalls. Her brown eyes skimmed each paragraph with an intensity hovering above of her, as her slender hand reached out to the window aimlessly, as if trying to reach the rain. He wasn't even sure she was aware of doing this, nor was he sure that she even noticed his presence.
"Weasley," he barked. "What is this place?" he demanded after his surprised composure. However, his annoyance grew as she beadily ignored him, as if he was a gust of air to be brushed against. Stepping toward her cautiously, he drew closer until he found himself in front of her. She did not raise her hand, nor did she make any movement to move her lips. Her eyes still peered over the pages.
Damn it, I wish something would happen.
He reached out and tried to grab the book, but found that he couldn't and was hit by the most strangest thought that ran a chill throughout his spine and trickled into his legs within it's numbing surface.
She could not see him.
The rain rippled like a thousand tears against the flat window. She observed it with keen interest every so often when she felt her eardrums and eyes tire from her book. But there was a sudden emotion rising in her skin and she didn't particularly care for it. It was the emotion she felt in her chest, tangled into it when she felt as if she would regret something about to happen. She also felt that prickling fear that someone was watching her, whenever something out of her grasp made a movement fully to her knowledge in sight.
I wish there was a world where I could be the air, vacant, and myself. It was an ambitious feeling to sink into.
She gave a soft sigh and told herself it would be safe just to sleep for an hour or so, then wake up in the peaceful, serene setting and listen to the thundering rain. It was when drowsiness was begin to fill her when a sudden cracking sound, along with the thunder made it's plunging noise into her eardrums, and she felt as if they were breaking as several echoes began to occupy her mind.
Draco stood, looking around at his surroundings for the last half-hour with distaste. He was in disbelief, and he was now feeling sick, his throat caught in something he could not distinguish. There was something strange and untrusting about this place, and he wanted to leave. He had tried many times, but the doorknob wouldn't move a bit. He felt as if his hands were transparent, unfeeling, and invisible, both mentally and physically. His eyes were turned to the ceiling when he heard the scream. It was an earsplitting, bloodcurdling screech that awakened his senses as he looked to his right.
Ginny was hanging limply across her armchair, remains of the now broken window caught in her hair, her eyes closed, blood seeping from the gash on her forehead as the storm surrendered it's anger unleashing onto the once-cozy room.
The rushing wind wavered around the room and miraculously set out the ember fires that were dancing in the fireplace.