-----------------------------------------------------
ALL AUTHOR'S NOTES WILL NOW BE POSTED AT THE END OF EACH CHAPTER!
-----------------------------------------------------
The Grim Reaper Will See You Now
Ginny sat in her usual seat at her table in the Great Hall. She slowly dipped her wheat bread into the open yoke of her dippy egg. Her neck cracked painfully when she looked up at the roaring sound of active wings. A tawny barn owl dropped a rolled newspaper into her lap. She quickly untied the black and silver ribbon and uncurled the Daily Prophet. She quickly turned the leaf like pages to the Entertainment section. A large, moving picture of five women and five men was situated at the top of the most popular page in the newspaper.
The headline read: "Hogwarts Hell House Hellhounds and Whores steal the show!" Ginny's gaze carefully read through the long article.
Two nights ago, reporter Dervus Figgle was nestled within the roaring crowd that swarming around the stage of the well known club 'Time of Night.' 'Time of Night' is popular for its Saturday shows, where the talented (or untalented) display their gifts (or idiocy) to a cheering (or booing) mob. That's how our own reporter, Figgle, found a story.
Nine students from Hogwarts, ranging from the ages 16-18, and an ex- professor, whose age is unknown, appeared with a show that rivaled some of the Weird Sisters' best concerts. Though they were an opening act for Virgil's Veelas, their performance was more memorable than Double V's performance.
As the owner of 'Time of Night' says, "All Saturday night shows must be based on a time period." This newly discovered group gave new meaning to the Bohemian Revolution, which began in the early nineteen hundreds. The ladies sported provocative corset sand lingerie while the men wore romp- wrinkled clothing as they pumped the crowd.
"They were amazing. It took me back to the old days!" exclaimed one hundred and forty-six year old Rufus Prewitt.
"Where can I buy a Hellhound?" seventeen year old Matilda Fae jokingly asked.
Figgle set out to find the founder of H4AW, Ginevra (AN: I know I know I know, you think her name in Virginia...but JK Rowling says her full name is Ginevra.) Weasley. She accepted a small interview.
Figgle: So how did H4AW get started?
Weasley: Well, I was talking with my dance partner Spike, and he started talking about this club. We got permission from Albus Dumbledore, and this al started.
Figgle: So are you going to continue this?
Weasley: Maybe, but this is just a hobby for now. Hermione wants to be in the Ministry, Draco wants to create a new broom, Mandy wants to be a fashion guru, and Spike... well he wants to start the next Bohemian Revolution. We wouldn't be able to turn this into a career when we all have different hopes and dreams.
Figgle: So what' s your dream?
Weasley: I'd like to be an entertainer.
Figgle: Well, the Daily Prophet thanks you for your time.
Weasley: And the Hogwarts Hell House Hellhounds and Whores accept your gratitude.
The Daily Prophet highly recommends that our readers should attend the next show, which will be held six weeks from now. Thank you.
-Dervus Figgle
Ginny smiled characteristically. Then she smirked uncharacteristically as she looked towards Spike. Amusement gleamed in his seemingly lifeless eyes. Draco appeared and leaned over Hermione's shoulder (who was beside Ginny) to glance over the article.
"Did Matilda Fae leave a mailing address?" he asked teasingly. "I can always send her a !DracoBlowUpDoll!," he added.
Hermione smacked his bicep in mock annoyance. "Merlin knows what she'd be doing with it," she muttered.
"The mouthpiece is on the di—" Draco was immediately cut off by Hermione's hand.
"HELLO! Innocent, virgin-eared first years listening!" Hermione exclaimed.
Draco simply smirked. Ginny rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the end of the staff table where the visitors sat. She was definitely surprised to see that Spike was no longer there.
"Looking for someone, Ginevra?" came an icy, wicked drawl.
The hair on the nape of her neck rose as goose pimples dotted her skin. That simple tone manipulated her nonsense dreams into twisted scenes of wickedness. That voice alone could weaken her completely. A heat sprung to her cheekbones.
"Yes, I am," she answered coolly, betraying the lust that stole her strength and turned her to putty in Spike's hands.
"Come with me," he whispered in her ear in that same tone.
Ginny smiled a goodbye to her friends and followed Spike into an empty classroom.
Albus watched the leave the Great Hall, the twinkle in his eye beginning to dim.
"Take a seat," Spike said, pulling a chair out from a round table.
Ginny frowned curiously as her gaze landed on a black, misty ball made of crystal. She slowly sat down in the high-backed chair.
"Now relax. Meditating is also good," Spike said as he turned off the lights.
The silvery, swirling mist glowed within the onyx ball, illuminating the room with its gothic glow. Spike gently took her hands in his and laid her hands on the orb. There was a moment's silence.
"Do you see anything? Hear anything? Feel anything?" he asked in a whisper.
"No," she whispered in return.
A sudden memory flashed before Spike's eyes.
Spike sat in a grand mansion, a guest of His grand ball. Drusilla appeared from behind a wall of curtains. Spike looked up, jealously burning bright within his blue eyes. Drusilla had spent yet another night with Him. Angelus had disappeared, angry with Darla for betraying him.
"Spike? Are you angry with me?" came a childlike drawl.
Spike looked up at the raven-haired woman. A playful smile displayed itself, not quite reaching her eyes. She exuded the mockery of innocence. The inner storm of her sinister being destroyed all light that foolishly attempted to corrupt her. Her frail form was hidden beneath the folds of her white nightgown. A white shawl hung below her pale, bare shoulders.
Her slender hands grasped Spike's own hands and she began to sway from side to side as if she were dancing to a hypnotizing ballad. A small smirked played across Spike's lips, anticipating Drusilla's prediction.
"My heiress shall fight her path into your existence. Her powers shall be hidden in the depths of her psyche, waiting to be unleashed. She will be born in the form of a witch, the raging colors of the underworld making themselves known in her appearance. She shall be a potential slayer, but she will be morphed into half vampire. The ritual will not be completed and shall be performed in a different way. Her true purpose will be known once her powers awaken," Drusilla cooed.
She drew his hands over her stomach. Spike's eyes grew wide in realization.
"You're pregnant? How is that possible?" he exclaimed.
Drusilla removed her hair from obscuring her neck. The two puncture holes were gone.
"The potion will wear off in nine months. Then I'll be a vampire again. My heiress will be the only girl in the Weasley line," Drusilla whispered.
Spike growled and pushed her to the floor before storming into the ballroom. Later that night, the police found seventy-two lifeless bodies with railroad spikes driven into their bodies.
Spike stepped up behind Ginny. "Forgive me, Ginevra," he whispered before sinking his canines into her neck.
She gasped in pain as he continued to drink, but he drew away before her heart stopped beating. Spike grabbed the amulet that hung from his neck. He tilted Ginny's head back and poured the contents from within the black amulet into her mouth. Drusilla's blood... mixed with phoenix tears. The amulet would always be full... until Ginny returned in her true form.
-
Draco and Hermione sat on a loveseat in the Heads' Common Room. They were silent as a small squirrel rattled on about his past life of being cursed by a gypsy. The squirrel, dubbed Dookie, took a deep breath before continuing his tall tale story.
Draco sent Hermione a look that clearly asked 'Why are we drinking tea and eating crumpets with a lunatic?'
It was hours later before Dookie finally left. Draco and Hermione were currently curled up on the couch when the earth suddenly shook. They both sat up.
"What was that?" Hermione asked.
-
Somewhere, off in Transylvania, Lord Voldemort sat on his throne. A sinister smirk stretched his colorless lips.
"It is time," he hissed.
-
The next morning, Seamus Finnegan awoke to a rude awakening. Ron Weasley had thrown a pillow at him to wake him up. Seamus retaliated with his own pillow. He dashed into the bathroom, scratching his bum in the process. He took a quick shower, only washing his hair with shampoo and somehow forgetting to use conditioner and soap.
He toweled himself, changed into an old pair of jeans, shirt and robe, and dashed down to the Great Hall. Not before getting pelted by two pillows.
Everyone from his down had somehow managed to get to the Gryffindor table before him. He took his usual seat and began to stuff food into his mouth. Like his mother always said, 'You should always have a good, hearty breakfast at the start of your day.' It wasn't long before the Owl Post came.
Seamus was rather surprised to see a letter land neatly on his, now empty, plate. The envelope was black with his name scratched across the front in silver ink. He tore the envelope open and there on the slip of parchment... was the Dark Mark.
The last thing he heard was Dumbledore yelling 'Seamus! NO!' as a blinding green light overtook him.
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A/N: Fifteenth chapter! Did you like it? It took me forever to write it even though it was so short! I know, it was a bit dark...but that's what plot chapters are supposed to be like. And I had to kill someone in this story to make sure that you guys know I'm serious. There won't be many fluff scenes in the next chapters. We're about halfway through the story. Lol.
NOTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!: IF YOU ARE AN ARTIST (OR NOT) ATTEMPT TO DRAW ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE SCENES FROM ONE OF MY STORIES. ANY ONE OF MY STORIES. IF YOU CAN SCAN IT, PLEASE SEND ME AN ATTACHMENT THROUGH EMAIL AND I'LL LINK YOU WITH MY BIO. YOU'LL RECEIVE AN EXTRA TREAT IF I LIKE THE PICCY!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, and I do not own any of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel characters. I own a certain someone whom JKR never thought of. He's mine! Back off! I wish I owned Draco and Spike, but I don't. BUT! I OWN THE EAST TOWER! giggles I do own the crazed, gray squirrel. I own a lot of characters in this story. The ritual that's in this story is mine. Lol. I can't name all of the things that are mine!
-----------------------------------------------------
ALL AUTHOR'S NOTES WILL NOW BE POSTED AT THE END OF EACH CHAPTER!
-----------------------------------------------------
The Grim Reaper Will See You Now
Ginny sat in her usual seat at her table in the Great Hall. She slowly dipped her wheat bread into the open yoke of her dippy egg. Her neck cracked painfully when she looked up at the roaring sound of active wings. A tawny barn owl dropped a rolled newspaper into her lap. She quickly untied the black and silver ribbon and uncurled the Daily Prophet. She quickly turned the leaf like pages to the Entertainment section. A large, moving picture of five women and five men was situated at the top of the most popular page in the newspaper.
The headline read: "Hogwarts Hell House Hellhounds and Whores steal the show!" Ginny's gaze carefully read through the long article.
Two nights ago, reporter Dervus Figgle was nestled within the roaring crowd that swarming around the stage of the well known club 'Time of Night.' 'Time of Night' is popular for its Saturday shows, where the talented (or untalented) display their gifts (or idiocy) to a cheering (or booing) mob. That's how our own reporter, Figgle, found a story.
Nine students from Hogwarts, ranging from the ages 16-18, and an ex- professor, whose age is unknown, appeared with a show that rivaled some of the Weird Sisters' best concerts. Though they were an opening act for Virgil's Veelas, their performance was more memorable than Double V's performance.
As the owner of 'Time of Night' says, "All Saturday night shows must be based on a time period." This newly discovered group gave new meaning to the Bohemian Revolution, which began in the early nineteen hundreds. The ladies sported provocative corset sand lingerie while the men wore romp- wrinkled clothing as they pumped the crowd.
"They were amazing. It took me back to the old days!" exclaimed one hundred and forty-six year old Rufus Prewitt.
"Where can I buy a Hellhound?" seventeen year old Matilda Fae jokingly asked.
Figgle set out to find the founder of H4AW, Ginevra (AN: I know I know I know, you think her name in Virginia...but JK Rowling says her full name is Ginevra.) Weasley. She accepted a small interview.
Figgle: So how did H4AW get started?
Weasley: Well, I was talking with my dance partner Spike, and he started talking about this club. We got permission from Albus Dumbledore, and this al started.
Figgle: So are you going to continue this?
Weasley: Maybe, but this is just a hobby for now. Hermione wants to be in the Ministry, Draco wants to create a new broom, Mandy wants to be a fashion guru, and Spike... well he wants to start the next Bohemian Revolution. We wouldn't be able to turn this into a career when we all have different hopes and dreams.
Figgle: So what' s your dream?
Weasley: I'd like to be an entertainer.
Figgle: Well, the Daily Prophet thanks you for your time.
Weasley: And the Hogwarts Hell House Hellhounds and Whores accept your gratitude.
The Daily Prophet highly recommends that our readers should attend the next show, which will be held six weeks from now. Thank you.
-Dervus Figgle
Ginny smiled characteristically. Then she smirked uncharacteristically as she looked towards Spike. Amusement gleamed in his seemingly lifeless eyes. Draco appeared and leaned over Hermione's shoulder (who was beside Ginny) to glance over the article.
"Did Matilda Fae leave a mailing address?" he asked teasingly. "I can always send her a !DracoBlowUpDoll!," he added.
Hermione smacked his bicep in mock annoyance. "Merlin knows what she'd be doing with it," she muttered.
"The mouthpiece is on the di—" Draco was immediately cut off by Hermione's hand.
"HELLO! Innocent, virgin-eared first years listening!" Hermione exclaimed.
Draco simply smirked. Ginny rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the end of the staff table where the visitors sat. She was definitely surprised to see that Spike was no longer there.
"Looking for someone, Ginevra?" came an icy, wicked drawl.
The hair on the nape of her neck rose as goose pimples dotted her skin. That simple tone manipulated her nonsense dreams into twisted scenes of wickedness. That voice alone could weaken her completely. A heat sprung to her cheekbones.
"Yes, I am," she answered coolly, betraying the lust that stole her strength and turned her to putty in Spike's hands.
"Come with me," he whispered in her ear in that same tone.
Ginny smiled a goodbye to her friends and followed Spike into an empty classroom.
Albus watched the leave the Great Hall, the twinkle in his eye beginning to dim.
"Take a seat," Spike said, pulling a chair out from a round table.
Ginny frowned curiously as her gaze landed on a black, misty ball made of crystal. She slowly sat down in the high-backed chair.
"Now relax. Meditating is also good," Spike said as he turned off the lights.
The silvery, swirling mist glowed within the onyx ball, illuminating the room with its gothic glow. Spike gently took her hands in his and laid her hands on the orb. There was a moment's silence.
"Do you see anything? Hear anything? Feel anything?" he asked in a whisper.
"No," she whispered in return.
A sudden memory flashed before Spike's eyes.
Spike sat in a grand mansion, a guest of His grand ball. Drusilla appeared from behind a wall of curtains. Spike looked up, jealously burning bright within his blue eyes. Drusilla had spent yet another night with Him. Angelus had disappeared, angry with Darla for betraying him.
"Spike? Are you angry with me?" came a childlike drawl.
Spike looked up at the raven-haired woman. A playful smile displayed itself, not quite reaching her eyes. She exuded the mockery of innocence. The inner storm of her sinister being destroyed all light that foolishly attempted to corrupt her. Her frail form was hidden beneath the folds of her white nightgown. A white shawl hung below her pale, bare shoulders.
Her slender hands grasped Spike's own hands and she began to sway from side to side as if she were dancing to a hypnotizing ballad. A small smirked played across Spike's lips, anticipating Drusilla's prediction.
"My heiress shall fight her path into your existence. Her powers shall be hidden in the depths of her psyche, waiting to be unleashed. She will be born in the form of a witch, the raging colors of the underworld making themselves known in her appearance. She shall be a potential slayer, but she will be morphed into half vampire. The ritual will not be completed and shall be performed in a different way. Her true purpose will be known once her powers awaken," Drusilla cooed.
She drew his hands over her stomach. Spike's eyes grew wide in realization.
"You're pregnant? How is that possible?" he exclaimed.
Drusilla removed her hair from obscuring her neck. The two puncture holes were gone.
"The potion will wear off in nine months. Then I'll be a vampire again. My heiress will be the only girl in the Weasley line," Drusilla whispered.
Spike growled and pushed her to the floor before storming into the ballroom. Later that night, the police found seventy-two lifeless bodies with railroad spikes driven into their bodies.
Spike stepped up behind Ginny. "Forgive me, Ginevra," he whispered before sinking his canines into her neck.
She gasped in pain as he continued to drink, but he drew away before her heart stopped beating. Spike grabbed the amulet that hung from his neck. He tilted Ginny's head back and poured the contents from within the black amulet into her mouth. Drusilla's blood... mixed with phoenix tears. The amulet would always be full... until Ginny returned in her true form.
-
Draco and Hermione sat on a loveseat in the Heads' Common Room. They were silent as a small squirrel rattled on about his past life of being cursed by a gypsy. The squirrel, dubbed Dookie, took a deep breath before continuing his tall tale story.
Draco sent Hermione a look that clearly asked 'Why are we drinking tea and eating crumpets with a lunatic?'
It was hours later before Dookie finally left. Draco and Hermione were currently curled up on the couch when the earth suddenly shook. They both sat up.
"What was that?" Hermione asked.
-
Somewhere, off in Transylvania, Lord Voldemort sat on his throne. A sinister smirk stretched his colorless lips.
"It is time," he hissed.
-
The next morning, Seamus Finnegan awoke to a rude awakening. Ron Weasley had thrown a pillow at him to wake him up. Seamus retaliated with his own pillow. He dashed into the bathroom, scratching his bum in the process. He took a quick shower, only washing his hair with shampoo and somehow forgetting to use conditioner and soap.
He toweled himself, changed into an old pair of jeans, shirt and robe, and dashed down to the Great Hall. Not before getting pelted by two pillows.
Everyone from his down had somehow managed to get to the Gryffindor table before him. He took his usual seat and began to stuff food into his mouth. Like his mother always said, 'You should always have a good, hearty breakfast at the start of your day.' It wasn't long before the Owl Post came.
Seamus was rather surprised to see a letter land neatly on his, now empty, plate. The envelope was black with his name scratched across the front in silver ink. He tore the envelope open and there on the slip of parchment... was the Dark Mark.
The last thing he heard was Dumbledore yelling 'Seamus! NO!' as a blinding green light overtook him.
-----------------------------------------------------
A/N: Fifteenth chapter! Did you like it? It took me forever to write it even though it was so short! I know, it was a bit dark...but that's what plot chapters are supposed to be like. And I had to kill someone in this story to make sure that you guys know I'm serious. There won't be many fluff scenes in the next chapters. We're about halfway through the story. Lol.
NOTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!: IF YOU ARE AN ARTIST (OR NOT) ATTEMPT TO DRAW ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE SCENES FROM ONE OF MY STORIES. ANY ONE OF MY STORIES. IF YOU CAN SCAN IT, PLEASE SEND ME AN ATTACHMENT THROUGH EMAIL AND I'LL LINK YOU WITH MY BIO. YOU'LL RECEIVE AN EXTRA TREAT IF I LIKE THE PICCY!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, and I do not own any of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel characters. I own a certain someone whom JKR never thought of. He's mine! Back off! I wish I owned Draco and Spike, but I don't. BUT! I OWN THE EAST TOWER! giggles I do own the crazed, gray squirrel. I own a lot of characters in this story. The ritual that's in this story is mine. Lol. I can't name all of the things that are mine!
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