Blood On The Wall
Chapter 12
Attaining That Prong
The silence of the little cell was deafening. The door was a thick metal so he could not hear the voices upon the outside. Whether it was night yet, or the next day Malfoy knew not. All he knew was that he was alone in that small cell.
It was so small that he could barely move. He would bump his head on the ceiling when he twitched. His arms rubbed against the walls leaving cuts and bruises. His legs were in a knot that was most uncomfortable.
"Hurry up," he whispered. For what, we do not know. He waited for something. There was anticipation in his eyes as he expected something that no one else was predicting.
Down the halls of the hollow castle Voldemort waited for the next day to come.
"I need that boy's answer," he was roaring every now and again.
His minions would ask, "Why this boy, master?"
Voldemort's eyes would flash with anger. Some of his Death Eaters muttered tastily, "Why not torture the boy until he consents."
"If I take him by force he'll be that much more reluctant to do my bidding. This boy is my only access to the boy that survived me. He's the one who has to die before I can do anything else."
Back in the tiny cell Malfoy wedged his hand towards his head to scratch it. He felt things crawling on him and wanted to jump up and down to shake them off. All he could do was sit there and let the mites, worms, and spiders crawl over him like a doormat.
Getting tired of listening to nothing he screamed at the top of his lungs, but nothing was heard. It just penetrated back to his own ears and made them ring with pain. Draco felt lost and confused. He had no idea what to say or do.
*Should I say yes?* he thought. What were the possibilities? Either way Voldemort would kill him. As Draco thought and the sun rose in the distance for the next day he felt the ground shaking beneath him. He grabbed onto a rock on the side of him and waited.
Although Draco didn't know it, outside there was a loud screeching noise. The ground was rumbling and the walls were collapsing one by one. It was louder than ever.
As the walls fell down the revealed on the other side a girl, radiant with light, floating high above the castle with her mouth open wide.
As no one was prepared for this, Voldemort's army again fell one by one to their death. Voldemort, in pain cried out, "SHOOT HER DOWN!"
No one could move though. Symor'e was finding a new kind of power in her feeble body. As she screamed a powerful screech she slowly eeked her way into each Death Eater's body and took control. Without ceasing her yelling she floated down to the ground and landed softly on her feet, her white flowing dress blowing behind her.
She closed her mouth, but in Voldemort's ears there was still a ringing. There was no wind, but her beautiful long hair twisted in a breeze unfelt as she stalked her way up to Voldemort. The Death Eaters that were still alive watched her majestically walk up the steps to the Dark Lord's throne.
"Where is he?" she finally spoke. Her voice was loud and controlling, the Death Eaters bowed around her, finding their new master. Symor'e had used her mountainous scream to enter the minds of the powerful followers of Voldemort and take them as her own.
Voldemort laughed, "No power of yours can match mine."
"Bite me."
Symor'e turned her back to the Dark Lord and asked a Death Eater that was standing on the sidelines quivering. He was pudgy and resembled a fat rat.
"You!"
"Yes," he said in a squeaky voice.
"Where is the blonde boy that he has captive."
"In a cell, ma'am."
"Bring him to me."
The short little man walked away rapidly.
Symor'e turned back to Voldemort, "Now, what were you going to do to me?"
"Explain to me this. What were you expecting to do after you took my army? Take the boy? Kill me?"
"Oh, kill you? No. I could never kill you," she bowed her head low in a mocking sort of way and opened her mouth to scream again. As she did Voldemort grabbed his ears.
Although the scream was powerful to kill anyone else, it would never be as power as to kill the Great Lord Voldemort. She screamed for as long as she could, but all it did was hurt Voldemort's ears and blinded him with pain. This at least gave Symor'e time to think her next move, or, if already planned, help it to pan out.
Malfoy sat in his cell still waiting. The massive metal door opened and revealed the little prat that Symor'e had sent for him.
"It's time," was all he muttered. Malfoy edged his way out and followed the funny looking man to where he thought he would have to give his answer. As he followed he saw around him that something had happened. The windows were blown out, the walls were crumbling around him, not at all like it was whenever he was first being led to his cell.
He walked into the hall in which Symor'e was in. he listened contently to the words that she was saying.
"No matter what your plan is to stop me, you'll never win. One thing that I learned was that good conquers. One thing that you would never understand is that love is the key to all goodness. 'Some people see the trees, others see the forest'," she quoted, "Draco has something that you need, you can't have it!"
"Ma'am, I have your boy."
Symor'e turned around and smiled at Draco, who smiled back. She ran and hugged him, but on turning back to Voldemort an angry face followed.
"Now, you will let us leave or I will use your army to kill you."
Voldemort wasn't easily suppressed. He stared at Symor'e and Draco. He stood up, his eyes glaring. There was no way he was going to let them win. There's was no way he was going to let them slip away when they were right their in his grasp. He didn't need his army to take two little teenagers. All he needed was his finger raised and pointed and it would all be over. But would it be enough?
He stared on at the two of them clasping each other's hands.
"Time's up," Symor'e stated. She snapped her fingers and all of her Death Eaters raised their wands and shouted at the same time, "ACKPOINT SHEVERA!"
Purple lights flashed out of their wands. Voldemort raised his hands and before the beams reached him he disappeared into a cloud of red smoke.
"Good has not won, yet," was whispered around the castle.
@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@
Back at Hogwarts Symor'e had been accepted and welcomed by Dumbledore graciously. She was sorted into Slytherin with Draco and they were the 'couple' of that house. When he walked down the halls of the great Hogwarts and caught a glimpse of Ron or Harry, or Hermione he would flash a smirk that only they would notice. They returned it graciously, but didn't let it flounder their hate for each other. Draco knew he owed his enemies for finding in their hearts to take him in and help him in that time of his life.
Hermione would look at Draco and Symor'e together and flinch. Another hate had formed in her heart, but it was a lustful hate. Draco's eyes would glance at her also, knowing the pain that he caused her he couldn't bear it. He also formed a different form of hate for her. it was a greedy hate. A hate that stated, "Why did she have to get that close?" which then led into, "she's so pushy, manipulative, conniving, bossy," and many of her other bad qualities. It was a hate, but a love. Symor'e noticed, but wouldn't say anything; she knew she wouldn't be around for long. Banshees have to live in a different way. She would have to leave soon, so although Draco's heart wasn't fully in the relationship, she enjoyed the time she had with him.
Life was as back to normal as it could be for Draco Malfoy. This was his last year and things were looking up. At least this is how it seemed to those from the outside. Anyone who knew the torment Draco would go through at night would kill himself or herself just to forget. Every night, while Draco lay awake in his bed, voices swarmed him, and tortures unimaginable embellished him. When the unseen conflict would finish, Draco would look at his shoulder, there was still the slight mark that was never completed. Voldemort would never leave him.
A/N: The end.
Chapter 12
Attaining That Prong
The silence of the little cell was deafening. The door was a thick metal so he could not hear the voices upon the outside. Whether it was night yet, or the next day Malfoy knew not. All he knew was that he was alone in that small cell.
It was so small that he could barely move. He would bump his head on the ceiling when he twitched. His arms rubbed against the walls leaving cuts and bruises. His legs were in a knot that was most uncomfortable.
"Hurry up," he whispered. For what, we do not know. He waited for something. There was anticipation in his eyes as he expected something that no one else was predicting.
Down the halls of the hollow castle Voldemort waited for the next day to come.
"I need that boy's answer," he was roaring every now and again.
His minions would ask, "Why this boy, master?"
Voldemort's eyes would flash with anger. Some of his Death Eaters muttered tastily, "Why not torture the boy until he consents."
"If I take him by force he'll be that much more reluctant to do my bidding. This boy is my only access to the boy that survived me. He's the one who has to die before I can do anything else."
Back in the tiny cell Malfoy wedged his hand towards his head to scratch it. He felt things crawling on him and wanted to jump up and down to shake them off. All he could do was sit there and let the mites, worms, and spiders crawl over him like a doormat.
Getting tired of listening to nothing he screamed at the top of his lungs, but nothing was heard. It just penetrated back to his own ears and made them ring with pain. Draco felt lost and confused. He had no idea what to say or do.
*Should I say yes?* he thought. What were the possibilities? Either way Voldemort would kill him. As Draco thought and the sun rose in the distance for the next day he felt the ground shaking beneath him. He grabbed onto a rock on the side of him and waited.
Although Draco didn't know it, outside there was a loud screeching noise. The ground was rumbling and the walls were collapsing one by one. It was louder than ever.
As the walls fell down the revealed on the other side a girl, radiant with light, floating high above the castle with her mouth open wide.
As no one was prepared for this, Voldemort's army again fell one by one to their death. Voldemort, in pain cried out, "SHOOT HER DOWN!"
No one could move though. Symor'e was finding a new kind of power in her feeble body. As she screamed a powerful screech she slowly eeked her way into each Death Eater's body and took control. Without ceasing her yelling she floated down to the ground and landed softly on her feet, her white flowing dress blowing behind her.
She closed her mouth, but in Voldemort's ears there was still a ringing. There was no wind, but her beautiful long hair twisted in a breeze unfelt as she stalked her way up to Voldemort. The Death Eaters that were still alive watched her majestically walk up the steps to the Dark Lord's throne.
"Where is he?" she finally spoke. Her voice was loud and controlling, the Death Eaters bowed around her, finding their new master. Symor'e had used her mountainous scream to enter the minds of the powerful followers of Voldemort and take them as her own.
Voldemort laughed, "No power of yours can match mine."
"Bite me."
Symor'e turned her back to the Dark Lord and asked a Death Eater that was standing on the sidelines quivering. He was pudgy and resembled a fat rat.
"You!"
"Yes," he said in a squeaky voice.
"Where is the blonde boy that he has captive."
"In a cell, ma'am."
"Bring him to me."
The short little man walked away rapidly.
Symor'e turned back to Voldemort, "Now, what were you going to do to me?"
"Explain to me this. What were you expecting to do after you took my army? Take the boy? Kill me?"
"Oh, kill you? No. I could never kill you," she bowed her head low in a mocking sort of way and opened her mouth to scream again. As she did Voldemort grabbed his ears.
Although the scream was powerful to kill anyone else, it would never be as power as to kill the Great Lord Voldemort. She screamed for as long as she could, but all it did was hurt Voldemort's ears and blinded him with pain. This at least gave Symor'e time to think her next move, or, if already planned, help it to pan out.
Malfoy sat in his cell still waiting. The massive metal door opened and revealed the little prat that Symor'e had sent for him.
"It's time," was all he muttered. Malfoy edged his way out and followed the funny looking man to where he thought he would have to give his answer. As he followed he saw around him that something had happened. The windows were blown out, the walls were crumbling around him, not at all like it was whenever he was first being led to his cell.
He walked into the hall in which Symor'e was in. he listened contently to the words that she was saying.
"No matter what your plan is to stop me, you'll never win. One thing that I learned was that good conquers. One thing that you would never understand is that love is the key to all goodness. 'Some people see the trees, others see the forest'," she quoted, "Draco has something that you need, you can't have it!"
"Ma'am, I have your boy."
Symor'e turned around and smiled at Draco, who smiled back. She ran and hugged him, but on turning back to Voldemort an angry face followed.
"Now, you will let us leave or I will use your army to kill you."
Voldemort wasn't easily suppressed. He stared at Symor'e and Draco. He stood up, his eyes glaring. There was no way he was going to let them win. There's was no way he was going to let them slip away when they were right their in his grasp. He didn't need his army to take two little teenagers. All he needed was his finger raised and pointed and it would all be over. But would it be enough?
He stared on at the two of them clasping each other's hands.
"Time's up," Symor'e stated. She snapped her fingers and all of her Death Eaters raised their wands and shouted at the same time, "ACKPOINT SHEVERA!"
Purple lights flashed out of their wands. Voldemort raised his hands and before the beams reached him he disappeared into a cloud of red smoke.
"Good has not won, yet," was whispered around the castle.
@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@
Back at Hogwarts Symor'e had been accepted and welcomed by Dumbledore graciously. She was sorted into Slytherin with Draco and they were the 'couple' of that house. When he walked down the halls of the great Hogwarts and caught a glimpse of Ron or Harry, or Hermione he would flash a smirk that only they would notice. They returned it graciously, but didn't let it flounder their hate for each other. Draco knew he owed his enemies for finding in their hearts to take him in and help him in that time of his life.
Hermione would look at Draco and Symor'e together and flinch. Another hate had formed in her heart, but it was a lustful hate. Draco's eyes would glance at her also, knowing the pain that he caused her he couldn't bear it. He also formed a different form of hate for her. it was a greedy hate. A hate that stated, "Why did she have to get that close?" which then led into, "she's so pushy, manipulative, conniving, bossy," and many of her other bad qualities. It was a hate, but a love. Symor'e noticed, but wouldn't say anything; she knew she wouldn't be around for long. Banshees have to live in a different way. She would have to leave soon, so although Draco's heart wasn't fully in the relationship, she enjoyed the time she had with him.
Life was as back to normal as it could be for Draco Malfoy. This was his last year and things were looking up. At least this is how it seemed to those from the outside. Anyone who knew the torment Draco would go through at night would kill himself or herself just to forget. Every night, while Draco lay awake in his bed, voices swarmed him, and tortures unimaginable embellished him. When the unseen conflict would finish, Draco would look at his shoulder, there was still the slight mark that was never completed. Voldemort would never leave him.
A/N: The end.