Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters from the
fabulous J.K. Rowling *bows to JK*
Anyway heres the next chapter! Thanks for all the reviews!!!! You people rock!!!! I would like to give thanks to sweet-77-thang, strick, Christina aka all those other names hhahahaha, my sister, and rose of fantasy.
This chapter is gonna be short, I warned. But sweet... and evil... MUHAHAHAH!!
I also give a warning to the content of this chapter. This chapter is dark and probably considered R for violence. Just warning.)
Bloody hell! I also apologize for the last few chapters. I have just been aware that I spelled the word Quidditch wrong. I have been spelling it 'Quiditch' sorry bout that folks! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
(A/N: Listen to O fortuna while you read this scene. It gives it a kick()
A small form stood there in the darkness, her cloaks billowing out in the howling wind. Cinnamon curls framed her face, brushing along feminine cheek bones. Her eyes were such a brown, rich and filled with a whirlwind of different feelings, emotions. But out of all of them, only one certain emotion flared like an ethereal torch in her eyes. Fear... Brisk, cold fear. The type of fear that was so thick that you could smell it in the air, perhaps even taste it. Fear mixed with a sense of foreboding, her senses blurred with the trickling of sweat running down the side of her moist temple. Her very limbs were immobile, screaming with protest. She could not move for the dark figure not too far away was hunting her. Hunting her like the bitter prey she was to him. He wanted her, like a snake on a rat. He was the snake, the serpent. His forked tongue probably could sense her.
The sky was black, phantoms gliding like soul-sought dementors across the ground. But there was nothing here in this wasteland of nothing. Darkness eclipsed the light. The only light that remained was burning like sweet dancing fire in the pair of nearing eyes out of the shadows. Silence took her breath away; the only sound was of echoing footsteps in the dismal distance. He was coming, coming for her. Coming to take her out and put her to an end. And, he would succeed... Silver emerged. Silver like moonlight. The type of silver that caught your eye like a bug in a spider web. His hair made her blink. She became fully aware that he was close. For whom none other then him had silver hair?
He was coming closer, striding in long, flapping swirls of dark black cloak. He towered over her like a ghost, his eyes piercing into hers, stripping her, raping her soul. He was taking what was his. He was taking her, her life. The exotic fire of his eyes smoldered over her very body almost hungrily, his seemingly forked serpent tongue dancing across the bottom of his blinding white teeth. He could feel the bristling of fear sparking like flames inside of her. He closed his heavy silver-laded eyes for a moment, basking in that feel, feeding off the fear of him from her. It tasted so good, like stolen innocence. There was something strictly forbidden about her, almost illegal. But it was his, she was his. His own... His prey belonged to him. Stepping closer, his head slightly tilted down to look at her. Ah, she was a figure of helplessness.
Cinnamon eyes collided with Pale stone orbs. Brown with silver. Lion and Serpent...
The stone-eyed figure felt himself hiss in appreciation as he looked down upon her. He watched as her throat trembled in a gulp. The smell of sweat lingered from her shivering form from where she stood. The wind tore like knives at the frail dress that rippled like a dark flag across her body. The brown curls drifted silently across her panic-stricken face as she watched him, waiting, fearing. Her chest heaved with erratic breaths as her lips were parted ever so slightly. Lastly, her feet were positioned much like her facial expression. Confused, waiting to spring into action. But that did not matter. She would not get far. He would find her. No one could hide from him, not for long. She would be his. And when she was, he would make sure she knew it. Taking a deep, elegant step forward, he watched for a response. The man received one as she stepped back almost immediately.
"Go on, run... But where there is a corner, I will be there. Where there are shadows, I will be there..." He whispered, his almost sweet voice running like liquid fire through her veins. He could feel the effect of his words on her. She shuddered unconsciously and continued to take small steps in the opposite direction. Not once did his eyes leave her. She was his to look upon. Ever slowly, he took one step toward her. Then another. Then another. The girl started to stumble away frantically until she had turned away from him and started to run. Yes run, he mentally told her. A long, mirthless chuckle escaped his pale lips as he gazed. He wanted to chase her. He wanted to hunt her down. She was that miniscule snitch, waiting to be grabbed in his long, slender fingers. Dissolving into dark nothingness, he followed his prey.
She was running, not knowing where she was going. But people being hunted usually acted like that. People who knew they would be caught by the claws of their hunters usually ran into nothingness, if not, only to stall the awaiting doom. The bitter smell of fate hovered in the air, filling her flaring nostrils. Somewhere close, the man could feel each pump of her frantic heart in his being, thumping and pounding. Oh the glee he would have when counting off the last beats. Or perhaps feeling the last pumps. The last pump of blood to the very organ that gave life. The life that he would take for his own. In the deafening silence, he could hear her hyperventilating. It echoed harshly and he unconsciously perked his keen ears to hear its distinct sound. Ah, the sound of panic. So succulent, so delightful...
Feeling the need to have her fear beneath his aching fingertips, he slowly transfigured from his shadowy form and back into the very persona of malevolence. Much to his liking, he surfaced right in her path. With a scream she ran right into him. Before one could know what was truly happening, his spidery hand closed around her arm. His pale fingers wrapped tightly around her flesh, digging, feeling. Sick dread radiated from her very body, and he devoured it into his own like a flower would do with the sunlight. The phantom of a man could feel a vein under one of his fingertips and he prodded it. He could almost feel the blood flowing within her. The blood that would spill to the ground like rain. Blood that no doubt would be rich and crimson like the color of the house of the lion. She whimpered under his hand, making ill attempts to wrench herself away from him. Her wild abandoned curls flew in a frenzy around her now pale face, her eyes wide. The girl's warm, fast breaths sizzled across his ice- like skin. She was burning him. Forbidden innocence was burning cold evil.
"Look at me, Granger..." He whispered. She went completely still; her body limp like a rag doll. But her chocolate brown eyes squeezed themselves shut in defiance. Always a fighter that one was. Not for long, of course. Defiance didn't get the victims anywhere but a closer death. The fingers around her arm slowly started to squeeze tighter and tighter until a sound of pain escaped her. Grinning maniacally, his fingers continued to close tighter and tighter, the color in her arm slowly fading. The vein was constricted beneath the skin, one of his fingers continuing to prod the desperate, sobbing vein. Finally, her eyes jerked open and she was trying to pull her pained arm free. But still he squeezed harder until the skin beneath his fingers began to purple. Each one of his sinister fingertips were branded like sweltering scars into her skin. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her faint sobs cheered him on. His free hand shot forward, entwining themselves into her hair. She gave a great yell as he lured her eyes to lock with his.
"Do you want me to stop, Granger?" He asked softly. She nodded, continuing to pull her swollen arm from his vice grip. The fingers he had in her hair tightened, and she cried out again. Catching her eyes with his, his silver orbs plunged into her sweet soul, taking what he wanted, stealing what he wanted. The girl's sobs began to echo in his ears and he would have laughed with the euphoric sound. Each one of her fingers began to swell with a raging purple, the loss of blood causing them to silently scream with desperation. But he would not give them what they wanted, not until he got what he wanted. Using the hand in her hair, he tilted her head slightly so that he could look deep into her horror filled eyes. Such beautiful horror...
"If you want me to stop, then you will have to beg..." He purred, his orbs piercing her like knives. She made an almost indignant noise in the back of her throat which caused him to laugh despite himself. To escape his raping gaze, she squeezed her eyes shut again. Didn't want to beg, did she? Well, he was the one that most certainly would not be begging. Oh how he loved using that delightful force into submission. An almost thoughtful expression played across his face as his fingers continued to tighten, his other hand starting to pull at the bouncy curls of her hair. Smirking as he could practically feel the strands of hair ripping out of her scalp, he closed his eyes lazily, her scream of pain ringing out through the shadowed lands. The sound of his prey was delicious! Then quite suddenly, her fingers were clawing at his dark cloak.
"Please! Please! I beg you! Please stop!" She cried. Grinning so darkly that he could have been able to petrify Voldemort, he began to laugh. The clouds darkened as his laughter threaded around them. Her sobs hitched up into her throat, fear trembling in her breath. His laughter was like having the killing curse flung at her. It ripped through her very soul, freezing and tightening like a serpent around her heart. Very slowly, his fingers began to loosen around her arm until she was able to break free. She cried out as the rush of blood flowed back into her limp arm and ran over her in a bleak sensation. Claw-like prints weaved around her arm in purple patches like scathing tattoos. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes as she held her arm protectively to her chest. He had let her go but the pain in her eyes was so strong...
"I love it when people like you beg. So melodious and precious," He murmured, almost to himself. Without thinking twice, Hermione stepped away from the silver-haired monster and made a move to run. But before she could fathom, shadows were grabbing her, pinning her arms behind her back and long, slender, dark arms weaved around her waist tightly. The shadows seemingly ravaged over her body, clawing and molesting. They grabbed and pulled like fast, dexterous fingers. Falling back against a hard, lithe form, she began to sob fearfully. His voice was next to ear, his ice lips whispering in smooth parsel-tongue. The stretches of bruises on her arm screamed hollowly as her bound arm remained tight behind her back. There was no escaping, no end to this madness. Death was her only open door, her only path and road. This monster was the very key to that not so long gateway into death.
"Resistance is useless and quite futile..." He whispered into her ear, the smell of her hair filling his bleak senses. She even had that smell that was uncorrupted. For a split moment, that unnerved him. How could this creature retain such innocence? An angel wrapped in Lucifer's embrace. But that quickly disappeared as his silver-slit eyes closed. A small scaly head immerged from the sleeves of his shadowy cloak and slithered around the circumference of his long, slender arm. The snake hissed softly, its forked tongue flickered in the air, tasting the foul odor that wavered. Uncoiling itself from its master and lead on by the whimper of helplessness from the female, it slithered around her waist, its body constricting like a belt. She trembled as the serpent squeezed its smooth, silky form around the skin of her arm, its tongue glowing with poison. Its hood flared ominously around its distinct features and there was something very foreboding about this snake. Its eyes were silver. Silver like the full moon. Silver like his hair... Revelation flooded through her sickly. He was feeding off her through the snake. Squeezing her eyes shut, trying to ignore everything, she stood there locked in his long arms.
It was almost like an embrace had her arms not been forcibly held behind her. Each sinfully beautiful scale of the snake seemed to be branded into her skin, absorbing her energy, her will. That will that had always made this bushy-haired female a Gryffindor. Then at the thought of the Gryffindor, a loud roar shook the very sky of the darkness. The man's arms tightened around his victim as the roar grew louder, ferocious and proud. The roar ended with a violent growl. Emerging from the shadows in a haze of white light, a lion stretched across the sky. It's large, lithe body flew like a threstal, its gold coat shimmering in the darkness like a torch. The gorgeous beast's mane rippled brilliantly as a wave of wind tore through each golden spun strand. Its long willowy tail snapped in fierceness, as its powerfully clawed paws hit the ground. Lastly, large slanted brown eyes glowered back at him. The shadow of a man bared his viper like teeth, his own nails digging into the soft flesh of his embraced victim. She whimpered which caused the lion to roar furiously. Ah, so Gryffindor was willing to fight? Well, Slytherin would rein on. Victory would be his. The serpent that was coiled around the girl's body slowly started to uncoil and fall elegantly to the ground. The creature wagged its forked tongue at the feline almost mockingly.
With a threatening hiss the snake slithered menacingly near the great Feline. The Lion crouched down on its two front paws like a cat would do on a mouse. Silver eyes clashed with dark brown. With a nod of his head, the serpent sprang forward. Like rope, it wrapped its smooth body around the nearest furry paw. Gryffindor growled, slamming its constricted paw to the ground as if crushing some irksome, bothersome insect. Meanwhile, the bushy- haired girl nearly forgot about the captor holding her in his arms as she watched the battle. The silver-eyed captor watched on as well, his lips playing a smug expression. He would win. Salazar would beat Godric.
The lion howled, continuously beating its paw until the snake came loose and soared through the air. It landed smoothly upon the ground but did not move. Approaching it cautiously, Gryffindor snarled. Slytherin was defeated already? Surely it could not be. The victim within the grasp of the silver eyed captor watched with growing hope. This nightmare had to be on the verge of destruction. The great feline towered over the slinky form of the serpent for a moment and then let out a victorious roar. Godric Gryffindor seemed to crow brashly into the endless tunnels of darkness, fire spouting from its victory like a dragon.
The brown eyed beauty almost cried out in delight as she turned to give her captor a retorting expression. But it died on her lips as she registered the euphoric features twitching across the contours of his face. Before she could blink, the supposed dead Snake sprung from the ground and clasped around Gryffindor's neck. A scream echoed hollowly from her throat as she watched her defender fall to the ground in a paralyzing shock. He roared, thrashing his great head about, claws ripping at the collar like snake. He stamped his clawed paws furiously upon the ground.
Pulses of complete and utter blindness bloomed awake beneath her skin and swam through her now frozen blood. Eyes glassy, her head arched to the sky, Hermione Granger could only hear the fury-filled roars of the great lion. The snake's body continued to constrict, tightening, suffocating. The rich, golden sun strands of feline hair began to wilt like a dying flower and turn white. The snapping, willowy tail with his fiery plume began to shrivel and bend. Claws receded and seemed to disintegrate before all eyes watching into crumbles of lost fierceness.
The silver eyed dragon watched on in satisfaction. In the end, Godric did wither away before the feet of Salazar. His fingers flexed along the waist of his victim, and he could feel her tremble in fear as she watched her last hope diminish like a passing wind, a forgotten memory. Had he existed at all? Were there really any chances to escape this inevitable fate what so ever? Would evil forever hold the banners of victory over their holding, stone fortresses? Continuing to watch the lion fall prey to death, the hooded snake continued to never let go. Its scaled tail rattled in the face of his defeated adversary, hissing in appreciation as the blood continued to slow its movement toward the heart. A long time had already past when it had last fought back. Gryffindor's once great paws curled up in agony, his hind legs bucking and twitching as if having a seizure. Brown eyes were wide, the chill of fatality creeping into its dark depths. The bushy-haired girl cried out, trying to go help her defender but could not. The man tightened his grip on her, forcing her to watch the helpless creature die. Again, he drank in the waves of horror radiating from her shivering form, protesting form. Foam spilled out through the corners of the lion's growling mouth, trailing down his furry chin. The serpent flared its hood in satisfaction, flashing viper teeth with a massive hiss.
"Finish the beast off!" The man suddenly hollered to his snake in parseltongue. Hermione found that she perfectly understand his words and began to scream, attempting to wrestle her body out of his arms. She had to help the great feline. She had to stop Slytherin from winning.
"Let me go!" She screamed, her fingers prying at his vice arms. He let a chuckle escape his throat as she struggled within his grasp. The figure of innocence wanted to go and save her helpless kitten of a lion. How novel and dulcet, he thought to himself with ominously tainted glee. The hand he had snaked around her waist and held her to him tightened. But still, she continued to pull away. Watching with a sneer, they stood transfixed as Gryffindor fell in a crumpled heap on the ground. The reds and gold's from his mane turned a dull white and grey and his whiskers crumpled under his large head. The serpent of Slytherin finally uncoiled from around its suffocated neck and slithered across the ground elegantly. The silver eyed man leaned down, his lips brushing against the ear of the sobbing girl in his arms. In a thin, liquid fire tone, he whispered.
"Gryffindor is dead..."
As he whispered this, his snake slithered up his leg and back into the folds of his robes. His face nuzzled into her neck, the scent of her filled his nostrils. The smell of femininity and blood. Blood he wanted to taste so badly. Crimson blood that would no doubt be rich and luxurious to fill the caves of his mouth. Opening his lips, his perfect row of white teeth began to change. Against his forked tongue, he now grew viperous teeth. The serpent teeth dripped with venom. The poison he would fill her very veins with. Grasping her tightly, he sunk his fangs into her flesh. She gave a startled and shocked cry of pain. She began to choke on the words of protest that came up in her throat. But they died away before escaping. His victim's fingers began to twitch, flailing in the air wildly, but still he held her, red blood filling his mouth. Blood mixed with poison, clashed, formed as one. The silver-eyed man's heavily lidded eyes drifted shut, his tongue lapping against her skin as the sweet crimson met with his lips. His mouth ravaged, took what was hers, and stole what was hers. The very illegal, forbiddances of this one girl began to be drained from her heart, her soul. Shadows filled her glazed over, horror filled eyes as this monster seemed to give her the dementors kiss.
As the peak of his pleasures took over him, his grip around her waist loosened. Almost at once she stumbled out of his grip and away from him. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath while a trickle of poisoned blood ran down the side of her neck. He looked down at her, blood running down from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His eyes were wide, filled with greed and desire as he continued to molest her with his gaze. It was time. Time to finish his deed. He needed to kill. He needed to kill her and now. Tilting his head, his malicious grin dark, he drew his wand. The killing curse was on the tip of his tongue, wanting to be breathed into the desolate night.
Hermione Granger's eyes traveled to the wand suddenly pointed at her and let out a strangled choke. One hand was on her neck where he had so viciously plunged his serpentine fangs and drank at her blood like a hunting vampire. As he began to draw closer, she stumbled back. Sweat poured down her face, her body, as protests for him to stop were issued from her trembling lips. But still he drew closer, his form becoming a phantom and angel of death. Begging for mercy, she continued to crawl back with her eyes focused on him. He was growing taller and taller, darker and darker. His eyes became universes of fatality and shadow, evil and death. His grin so vicious and corrupted bloomed like fire as Lucifer took his mighty form. His cloak became licking flames around his scaly, skeletal body as he became the sky, became the world. She could not escape him. He was everything. He was the universe. Everywhere she looked, it was him. Him and his wand. Him pointing his wand at her. Bringing her arms up to her face, she gave an echoing scream as Green light was manifested with two baneful words. Hermione Granger's scream became a broken whistle in the wind as her body exploded in a snowfall of ash and flame. Bones and flesh filled his senses, his tongue smelling dead blood...
******
Draco Malfoy shot up in bed, with a strangled gasp. Breathing heavily, sweaty dotting his brow, he looked around. His eyes were wide, haunted with what he had just dreamed.
And then, Draco Malfoy slowly started to smirk...
******
Lights in Gryffindor Tower flicked awake as a female, blood curdled scream rang through the heart and souls of sleeping wizarding students.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Well, that's this chapter! I told you it was short. I reckon this chapter was not nearly as good as I thought it would turn out considering that it was hard to write and I wanted to post it already. Hope u liked it anyway! R&R!!!
Anyway heres the next chapter! Thanks for all the reviews!!!! You people rock!!!! I would like to give thanks to sweet-77-thang, strick, Christina aka all those other names hhahahaha, my sister, and rose of fantasy.
This chapter is gonna be short, I warned. But sweet... and evil... MUHAHAHAH!!
I also give a warning to the content of this chapter. This chapter is dark and probably considered R for violence. Just warning.)
Bloody hell! I also apologize for the last few chapters. I have just been aware that I spelled the word Quidditch wrong. I have been spelling it 'Quiditch' sorry bout that folks! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
(A/N: Listen to O fortuna while you read this scene. It gives it a kick()
A small form stood there in the darkness, her cloaks billowing out in the howling wind. Cinnamon curls framed her face, brushing along feminine cheek bones. Her eyes were such a brown, rich and filled with a whirlwind of different feelings, emotions. But out of all of them, only one certain emotion flared like an ethereal torch in her eyes. Fear... Brisk, cold fear. The type of fear that was so thick that you could smell it in the air, perhaps even taste it. Fear mixed with a sense of foreboding, her senses blurred with the trickling of sweat running down the side of her moist temple. Her very limbs were immobile, screaming with protest. She could not move for the dark figure not too far away was hunting her. Hunting her like the bitter prey she was to him. He wanted her, like a snake on a rat. He was the snake, the serpent. His forked tongue probably could sense her.
The sky was black, phantoms gliding like soul-sought dementors across the ground. But there was nothing here in this wasteland of nothing. Darkness eclipsed the light. The only light that remained was burning like sweet dancing fire in the pair of nearing eyes out of the shadows. Silence took her breath away; the only sound was of echoing footsteps in the dismal distance. He was coming, coming for her. Coming to take her out and put her to an end. And, he would succeed... Silver emerged. Silver like moonlight. The type of silver that caught your eye like a bug in a spider web. His hair made her blink. She became fully aware that he was close. For whom none other then him had silver hair?
He was coming closer, striding in long, flapping swirls of dark black cloak. He towered over her like a ghost, his eyes piercing into hers, stripping her, raping her soul. He was taking what was his. He was taking her, her life. The exotic fire of his eyes smoldered over her very body almost hungrily, his seemingly forked serpent tongue dancing across the bottom of his blinding white teeth. He could feel the bristling of fear sparking like flames inside of her. He closed his heavy silver-laded eyes for a moment, basking in that feel, feeding off the fear of him from her. It tasted so good, like stolen innocence. There was something strictly forbidden about her, almost illegal. But it was his, she was his. His own... His prey belonged to him. Stepping closer, his head slightly tilted down to look at her. Ah, she was a figure of helplessness.
Cinnamon eyes collided with Pale stone orbs. Brown with silver. Lion and Serpent...
The stone-eyed figure felt himself hiss in appreciation as he looked down upon her. He watched as her throat trembled in a gulp. The smell of sweat lingered from her shivering form from where she stood. The wind tore like knives at the frail dress that rippled like a dark flag across her body. The brown curls drifted silently across her panic-stricken face as she watched him, waiting, fearing. Her chest heaved with erratic breaths as her lips were parted ever so slightly. Lastly, her feet were positioned much like her facial expression. Confused, waiting to spring into action. But that did not matter. She would not get far. He would find her. No one could hide from him, not for long. She would be his. And when she was, he would make sure she knew it. Taking a deep, elegant step forward, he watched for a response. The man received one as she stepped back almost immediately.
"Go on, run... But where there is a corner, I will be there. Where there are shadows, I will be there..." He whispered, his almost sweet voice running like liquid fire through her veins. He could feel the effect of his words on her. She shuddered unconsciously and continued to take small steps in the opposite direction. Not once did his eyes leave her. She was his to look upon. Ever slowly, he took one step toward her. Then another. Then another. The girl started to stumble away frantically until she had turned away from him and started to run. Yes run, he mentally told her. A long, mirthless chuckle escaped his pale lips as he gazed. He wanted to chase her. He wanted to hunt her down. She was that miniscule snitch, waiting to be grabbed in his long, slender fingers. Dissolving into dark nothingness, he followed his prey.
She was running, not knowing where she was going. But people being hunted usually acted like that. People who knew they would be caught by the claws of their hunters usually ran into nothingness, if not, only to stall the awaiting doom. The bitter smell of fate hovered in the air, filling her flaring nostrils. Somewhere close, the man could feel each pump of her frantic heart in his being, thumping and pounding. Oh the glee he would have when counting off the last beats. Or perhaps feeling the last pumps. The last pump of blood to the very organ that gave life. The life that he would take for his own. In the deafening silence, he could hear her hyperventilating. It echoed harshly and he unconsciously perked his keen ears to hear its distinct sound. Ah, the sound of panic. So succulent, so delightful...
Feeling the need to have her fear beneath his aching fingertips, he slowly transfigured from his shadowy form and back into the very persona of malevolence. Much to his liking, he surfaced right in her path. With a scream she ran right into him. Before one could know what was truly happening, his spidery hand closed around her arm. His pale fingers wrapped tightly around her flesh, digging, feeling. Sick dread radiated from her very body, and he devoured it into his own like a flower would do with the sunlight. The phantom of a man could feel a vein under one of his fingertips and he prodded it. He could almost feel the blood flowing within her. The blood that would spill to the ground like rain. Blood that no doubt would be rich and crimson like the color of the house of the lion. She whimpered under his hand, making ill attempts to wrench herself away from him. Her wild abandoned curls flew in a frenzy around her now pale face, her eyes wide. The girl's warm, fast breaths sizzled across his ice- like skin. She was burning him. Forbidden innocence was burning cold evil.
"Look at me, Granger..." He whispered. She went completely still; her body limp like a rag doll. But her chocolate brown eyes squeezed themselves shut in defiance. Always a fighter that one was. Not for long, of course. Defiance didn't get the victims anywhere but a closer death. The fingers around her arm slowly started to squeeze tighter and tighter until a sound of pain escaped her. Grinning maniacally, his fingers continued to close tighter and tighter, the color in her arm slowly fading. The vein was constricted beneath the skin, one of his fingers continuing to prod the desperate, sobbing vein. Finally, her eyes jerked open and she was trying to pull her pained arm free. But still he squeezed harder until the skin beneath his fingers began to purple. Each one of his sinister fingertips were branded like sweltering scars into her skin. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her faint sobs cheered him on. His free hand shot forward, entwining themselves into her hair. She gave a great yell as he lured her eyes to lock with his.
"Do you want me to stop, Granger?" He asked softly. She nodded, continuing to pull her swollen arm from his vice grip. The fingers he had in her hair tightened, and she cried out again. Catching her eyes with his, his silver orbs plunged into her sweet soul, taking what he wanted, stealing what he wanted. The girl's sobs began to echo in his ears and he would have laughed with the euphoric sound. Each one of her fingers began to swell with a raging purple, the loss of blood causing them to silently scream with desperation. But he would not give them what they wanted, not until he got what he wanted. Using the hand in her hair, he tilted her head slightly so that he could look deep into her horror filled eyes. Such beautiful horror...
"If you want me to stop, then you will have to beg..." He purred, his orbs piercing her like knives. She made an almost indignant noise in the back of her throat which caused him to laugh despite himself. To escape his raping gaze, she squeezed her eyes shut again. Didn't want to beg, did she? Well, he was the one that most certainly would not be begging. Oh how he loved using that delightful force into submission. An almost thoughtful expression played across his face as his fingers continued to tighten, his other hand starting to pull at the bouncy curls of her hair. Smirking as he could practically feel the strands of hair ripping out of her scalp, he closed his eyes lazily, her scream of pain ringing out through the shadowed lands. The sound of his prey was delicious! Then quite suddenly, her fingers were clawing at his dark cloak.
"Please! Please! I beg you! Please stop!" She cried. Grinning so darkly that he could have been able to petrify Voldemort, he began to laugh. The clouds darkened as his laughter threaded around them. Her sobs hitched up into her throat, fear trembling in her breath. His laughter was like having the killing curse flung at her. It ripped through her very soul, freezing and tightening like a serpent around her heart. Very slowly, his fingers began to loosen around her arm until she was able to break free. She cried out as the rush of blood flowed back into her limp arm and ran over her in a bleak sensation. Claw-like prints weaved around her arm in purple patches like scathing tattoos. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes as she held her arm protectively to her chest. He had let her go but the pain in her eyes was so strong...
"I love it when people like you beg. So melodious and precious," He murmured, almost to himself. Without thinking twice, Hermione stepped away from the silver-haired monster and made a move to run. But before she could fathom, shadows were grabbing her, pinning her arms behind her back and long, slender, dark arms weaved around her waist tightly. The shadows seemingly ravaged over her body, clawing and molesting. They grabbed and pulled like fast, dexterous fingers. Falling back against a hard, lithe form, she began to sob fearfully. His voice was next to ear, his ice lips whispering in smooth parsel-tongue. The stretches of bruises on her arm screamed hollowly as her bound arm remained tight behind her back. There was no escaping, no end to this madness. Death was her only open door, her only path and road. This monster was the very key to that not so long gateway into death.
"Resistance is useless and quite futile..." He whispered into her ear, the smell of her hair filling his bleak senses. She even had that smell that was uncorrupted. For a split moment, that unnerved him. How could this creature retain such innocence? An angel wrapped in Lucifer's embrace. But that quickly disappeared as his silver-slit eyes closed. A small scaly head immerged from the sleeves of his shadowy cloak and slithered around the circumference of his long, slender arm. The snake hissed softly, its forked tongue flickered in the air, tasting the foul odor that wavered. Uncoiling itself from its master and lead on by the whimper of helplessness from the female, it slithered around her waist, its body constricting like a belt. She trembled as the serpent squeezed its smooth, silky form around the skin of her arm, its tongue glowing with poison. Its hood flared ominously around its distinct features and there was something very foreboding about this snake. Its eyes were silver. Silver like the full moon. Silver like his hair... Revelation flooded through her sickly. He was feeding off her through the snake. Squeezing her eyes shut, trying to ignore everything, she stood there locked in his long arms.
It was almost like an embrace had her arms not been forcibly held behind her. Each sinfully beautiful scale of the snake seemed to be branded into her skin, absorbing her energy, her will. That will that had always made this bushy-haired female a Gryffindor. Then at the thought of the Gryffindor, a loud roar shook the very sky of the darkness. The man's arms tightened around his victim as the roar grew louder, ferocious and proud. The roar ended with a violent growl. Emerging from the shadows in a haze of white light, a lion stretched across the sky. It's large, lithe body flew like a threstal, its gold coat shimmering in the darkness like a torch. The gorgeous beast's mane rippled brilliantly as a wave of wind tore through each golden spun strand. Its long willowy tail snapped in fierceness, as its powerfully clawed paws hit the ground. Lastly, large slanted brown eyes glowered back at him. The shadow of a man bared his viper like teeth, his own nails digging into the soft flesh of his embraced victim. She whimpered which caused the lion to roar furiously. Ah, so Gryffindor was willing to fight? Well, Slytherin would rein on. Victory would be his. The serpent that was coiled around the girl's body slowly started to uncoil and fall elegantly to the ground. The creature wagged its forked tongue at the feline almost mockingly.
With a threatening hiss the snake slithered menacingly near the great Feline. The Lion crouched down on its two front paws like a cat would do on a mouse. Silver eyes clashed with dark brown. With a nod of his head, the serpent sprang forward. Like rope, it wrapped its smooth body around the nearest furry paw. Gryffindor growled, slamming its constricted paw to the ground as if crushing some irksome, bothersome insect. Meanwhile, the bushy- haired girl nearly forgot about the captor holding her in his arms as she watched the battle. The silver-eyed captor watched on as well, his lips playing a smug expression. He would win. Salazar would beat Godric.
The lion howled, continuously beating its paw until the snake came loose and soared through the air. It landed smoothly upon the ground but did not move. Approaching it cautiously, Gryffindor snarled. Slytherin was defeated already? Surely it could not be. The victim within the grasp of the silver eyed captor watched with growing hope. This nightmare had to be on the verge of destruction. The great feline towered over the slinky form of the serpent for a moment and then let out a victorious roar. Godric Gryffindor seemed to crow brashly into the endless tunnels of darkness, fire spouting from its victory like a dragon.
The brown eyed beauty almost cried out in delight as she turned to give her captor a retorting expression. But it died on her lips as she registered the euphoric features twitching across the contours of his face. Before she could blink, the supposed dead Snake sprung from the ground and clasped around Gryffindor's neck. A scream echoed hollowly from her throat as she watched her defender fall to the ground in a paralyzing shock. He roared, thrashing his great head about, claws ripping at the collar like snake. He stamped his clawed paws furiously upon the ground.
Pulses of complete and utter blindness bloomed awake beneath her skin and swam through her now frozen blood. Eyes glassy, her head arched to the sky, Hermione Granger could only hear the fury-filled roars of the great lion. The snake's body continued to constrict, tightening, suffocating. The rich, golden sun strands of feline hair began to wilt like a dying flower and turn white. The snapping, willowy tail with his fiery plume began to shrivel and bend. Claws receded and seemed to disintegrate before all eyes watching into crumbles of lost fierceness.
The silver eyed dragon watched on in satisfaction. In the end, Godric did wither away before the feet of Salazar. His fingers flexed along the waist of his victim, and he could feel her tremble in fear as she watched her last hope diminish like a passing wind, a forgotten memory. Had he existed at all? Were there really any chances to escape this inevitable fate what so ever? Would evil forever hold the banners of victory over their holding, stone fortresses? Continuing to watch the lion fall prey to death, the hooded snake continued to never let go. Its scaled tail rattled in the face of his defeated adversary, hissing in appreciation as the blood continued to slow its movement toward the heart. A long time had already past when it had last fought back. Gryffindor's once great paws curled up in agony, his hind legs bucking and twitching as if having a seizure. Brown eyes were wide, the chill of fatality creeping into its dark depths. The bushy-haired girl cried out, trying to go help her defender but could not. The man tightened his grip on her, forcing her to watch the helpless creature die. Again, he drank in the waves of horror radiating from her shivering form, protesting form. Foam spilled out through the corners of the lion's growling mouth, trailing down his furry chin. The serpent flared its hood in satisfaction, flashing viper teeth with a massive hiss.
"Finish the beast off!" The man suddenly hollered to his snake in parseltongue. Hermione found that she perfectly understand his words and began to scream, attempting to wrestle her body out of his arms. She had to help the great feline. She had to stop Slytherin from winning.
"Let me go!" She screamed, her fingers prying at his vice arms. He let a chuckle escape his throat as she struggled within his grasp. The figure of innocence wanted to go and save her helpless kitten of a lion. How novel and dulcet, he thought to himself with ominously tainted glee. The hand he had snaked around her waist and held her to him tightened. But still, she continued to pull away. Watching with a sneer, they stood transfixed as Gryffindor fell in a crumpled heap on the ground. The reds and gold's from his mane turned a dull white and grey and his whiskers crumpled under his large head. The serpent of Slytherin finally uncoiled from around its suffocated neck and slithered across the ground elegantly. The silver eyed man leaned down, his lips brushing against the ear of the sobbing girl in his arms. In a thin, liquid fire tone, he whispered.
"Gryffindor is dead..."
As he whispered this, his snake slithered up his leg and back into the folds of his robes. His face nuzzled into her neck, the scent of her filled his nostrils. The smell of femininity and blood. Blood he wanted to taste so badly. Crimson blood that would no doubt be rich and luxurious to fill the caves of his mouth. Opening his lips, his perfect row of white teeth began to change. Against his forked tongue, he now grew viperous teeth. The serpent teeth dripped with venom. The poison he would fill her very veins with. Grasping her tightly, he sunk his fangs into her flesh. She gave a startled and shocked cry of pain. She began to choke on the words of protest that came up in her throat. But they died away before escaping. His victim's fingers began to twitch, flailing in the air wildly, but still he held her, red blood filling his mouth. Blood mixed with poison, clashed, formed as one. The silver-eyed man's heavily lidded eyes drifted shut, his tongue lapping against her skin as the sweet crimson met with his lips. His mouth ravaged, took what was hers, and stole what was hers. The very illegal, forbiddances of this one girl began to be drained from her heart, her soul. Shadows filled her glazed over, horror filled eyes as this monster seemed to give her the dementors kiss.
As the peak of his pleasures took over him, his grip around her waist loosened. Almost at once she stumbled out of his grip and away from him. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath while a trickle of poisoned blood ran down the side of her neck. He looked down at her, blood running down from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His eyes were wide, filled with greed and desire as he continued to molest her with his gaze. It was time. Time to finish his deed. He needed to kill. He needed to kill her and now. Tilting his head, his malicious grin dark, he drew his wand. The killing curse was on the tip of his tongue, wanting to be breathed into the desolate night.
Hermione Granger's eyes traveled to the wand suddenly pointed at her and let out a strangled choke. One hand was on her neck where he had so viciously plunged his serpentine fangs and drank at her blood like a hunting vampire. As he began to draw closer, she stumbled back. Sweat poured down her face, her body, as protests for him to stop were issued from her trembling lips. But still he drew closer, his form becoming a phantom and angel of death. Begging for mercy, she continued to crawl back with her eyes focused on him. He was growing taller and taller, darker and darker. His eyes became universes of fatality and shadow, evil and death. His grin so vicious and corrupted bloomed like fire as Lucifer took his mighty form. His cloak became licking flames around his scaly, skeletal body as he became the sky, became the world. She could not escape him. He was everything. He was the universe. Everywhere she looked, it was him. Him and his wand. Him pointing his wand at her. Bringing her arms up to her face, she gave an echoing scream as Green light was manifested with two baneful words. Hermione Granger's scream became a broken whistle in the wind as her body exploded in a snowfall of ash and flame. Bones and flesh filled his senses, his tongue smelling dead blood...
******
Draco Malfoy shot up in bed, with a strangled gasp. Breathing heavily, sweaty dotting his brow, he looked around. His eyes were wide, haunted with what he had just dreamed.
And then, Draco Malfoy slowly started to smirk...
******
Lights in Gryffindor Tower flicked awake as a female, blood curdled scream rang through the heart and souls of sleeping wizarding students.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Well, that's this chapter! I told you it was short. I reckon this chapter was not nearly as good as I thought it would turn out considering that it was hard to write and I wanted to post it already. Hope u liked it anyway! R&R!!!
