AN: Thanks to my reviewers- Krissy, Nymph, Ninde and Buck! Buck, I'll try with the photo's, not to sure Zed will be too pleased about the other bit ;). Really high prasie from everyone! I love it! Sorry this took a while, but finally it's here! Please review, and if anyone would be so kind to be the story's Beta I'd be more than greatful!

Chapter 7- comburo (Consume, ruin, burn)

For each millimetre the door crept forward a thousand worries soaked into my skin.

Every word she'd uttered was a toxin in my system; every warning was a fatal blow. So that's what I did. I punched her in the stomach because I wanted her to know what it felt like. I never meant it to result in death, she was kind she treated me like a human; she understood more than I did. She said things I didn't want to know, I stopped her before it was too late. It was a solution, not a death, just an end to my problems.

But there was one fact that no matter how I tried to conceal hopped up and screamed in my face. When she died, I fell with her.

The door creaked even further open; a shred of white light teased my sallow skin. I sprinted towards the opening and kicked it firmly shut. With a deep breath I bolted the door.

"What's going on?" A gruff voice grumbled.

I exhaled sharply.

"Dr Phelps says she isn't finished," I shuddered. It was true; I'd killed her mid sentence.

"Right," he mused, "so why didn't she say so herself?"

"Because she thinks I'm more than worthy to talk to you!" I snapped. My hate for the beast had finally exploded.

He said nothing back, not a single retaliation.

"That shut him up!" I muttered jubilantly.

"Indeed it did, Sis," a voice croaked.

"Barty?"

I pirouetted abruptly. There was no one there, no one alive. How tragic my condition was, I even started to here things. I looked at DR Phelps; she leaned over her knees, clutching a folder in both arms. How pitiful she looked, like a cowering child. Why this enraged me I don't know- how dare she look so weak in death?

"You caused this!" I snarled. "I was recovering! Not now, not anymore, not ever again!"

I kicked her chair viciously. The familiarity of kicking a puppy when it's down loomed in my mind, except this puppy was dead.

The door trembled with my bones, my eyes darted to a possible escape route. I was a fool to think that I had tricked the beast; he had only gone for reinforcements.

My heart lurched as a bolt snapped; it definitely had to be the window. I grabbed the nearest thing which happened to be the large folder in Dr Phelps' arms and hacked at the window. Nothing happened, not a crack was made. I now laughed at the thought that crossed my mind; I was truly becoming a muggle! Stupid double glazing windows... There was nothing I could use to break such durable glass.

A transparent barrier meant the difference between freedom and captivity, an existence or a real life. I needed a key to the problem-I needed a key! There had to be one lurking somewhere for fire safety reasons...and that was when I smelt the smoke.

My temples pulsed in nightmarish harmony with the pounding door. I was constantly aware that each clotted breath came closer to my last, and that thought quelled me until I was past despair.

Everything was still and tranquil, definitely not the expected pandemonium flames should bring. Should I wait for the flames to crawl round my spindly body? Dare I experience my bones being blackened? Would the intoxicating smoke I inhaled be riddles with ash from my own flesh? Would all of that be better than being frozen to the floor of a cavernous cell?

A shimmer like the rustling of leaves entranced my eyes. Was that the first flame to dance? I dragged my limp hand to the blaze, wishing I would absorb its feisty energy. My fingers creased round a luke warm object rather than a thermal flicker. It was smooth but jagged- an angel with horns lay peacefully in my clammy palm.

I drew the shard to my face, but my vision faltered, each breath had become a struggle. The muscles in my throat clung together like prisoner and handcuff, no matter how hard they were forced it just didn't budge.

My nostrils flared in a mockery of gaping tunnels as I exhaled the last thread of poisoned air.

Knees sifted and legs toppled to begin my float to the floor. A stray arm flew out, dislodging the metal flake from my frail grip. As the key clanged on the floor it ringed with the laughter of defeat. There were no more vicious onslaughts on the beaten door. The rescuers had been claimed by devastation, and still the predator stalked the next victim. My eyes fell with the advance of the heat, so this was the end of the pureblood squib?