Random Stupidity
by Ethra Esme
A/N: Thanks for all my reviews. :) Even anonymous ones. I love you all equally. Ya weirdos.
Chapter Twelve
Damn Moving Steps
Ethra was on the second floor, tears streaming down her face, before she realized she had no idea where she was going. He feet were killing her, because she still had the enormous heels on, and she was cold and shivering from her skimpy little outfit. She had a flitting thought about performing a heating spell, but she was hard-pressed to remember much of anything right then.
She sat down, still sobbing, on one of the stairs, praying she wouldn't get caught by Filch.
Her mind was doing...the strangest things. It's like, she had a terrible time trying to differentiate between what was real and what was fantasy. Her life- the non-magic one- was fading and merging with the Harry Potter world. But it was make believe...right?
She tried to think of the author....what was her name? JK Rowling. But...Rowling was also a famous witch authoress. Which was the reality?
Suddenly she was jolted from her reverie. The stairs beneath her had begun to move.
"Holy fucking shit!" She hissed, turning around. Being on the top step, there was nothing between her falling over backward and the ground a thousand hundred million miles below. (Okay, it seemed that was to her, she has vertigo. 0.0)
She crawled backward on all fours, clutching the guard rail for dear life. She whimpered pathetically, watching the room around her pass in a blur.
Finally, the stairs stopped abruptly, right in front of a portrait of a large, buxom woman in a pink, frilly dress. It was tilted up for some reason, but Ethra was too nauseous to think about it. She launched off her ass and toward the stationary landing. But something blocked her launch. She hit her nose hard and heard a thump, as she landed softly, about a foot, it seemed from the ground.
She heard a groan and felt a wand stick into her side, and suddenly she realized what was going on.
"Harry?" She whispered. He didn't answer, so she reached for where she presumed his face was. The thin air beneath her squirmed, but she managed to get a hold of something and rolled to the side, pulling hard.
Suddenly, beside her, a dark-haired figure jumped up from the ground and pointed its wand at her.
"Harry, is that you?" Ethra whispered again.
"Wh-why did you try to attack me?" He whispered, obviously a little hurt.
"I didn't!" She sighed. "I was trying to get away from that god-awful moving step thing."
He kept his wand trained on her.
"Oh, come on, Harry. Why would I attack you?"
"I can think of, I don't know, a thousand reasons. It's been spread all around school what happened earlier."
"Happened...earlier...when earlier?"
"You and Snape..."
"Urm..." She thought back. Not the most recent encounter, surely. Oh! Of course. "When Malfoy walked in, then."
Harry nodded. "Yes."
"Well he's not out to get you either. In fact-"
"Sh!" Harry hissed urgently. Footsteps.
Harry reached down and grabbed Ethra, pulling her to her feet, then grabbed the cloak. He pulled her close to him and draped the cloak over the both of them.
He moved them over, up some stairs and down a long, dark hallway, and positioned them in a corner. He lit his wand and reached down to pull something from the pocket of his jeans, when he caught sight of what Ethra was wearing. His face reddened.
"Long story." She whispered. Harry pulled out a piece of parchment. The Marauders Map. It was already visible, and he opened it quickly.
"It's..Snape." He said quietly.
by Ethra Esme
A/N: Thanks for all my reviews. :) Even anonymous ones. I love you all equally. Ya weirdos.
Chapter Twelve
Damn Moving Steps
Ethra was on the second floor, tears streaming down her face, before she realized she had no idea where she was going. He feet were killing her, because she still had the enormous heels on, and she was cold and shivering from her skimpy little outfit. She had a flitting thought about performing a heating spell, but she was hard-pressed to remember much of anything right then.
She sat down, still sobbing, on one of the stairs, praying she wouldn't get caught by Filch.
Her mind was doing...the strangest things. It's like, she had a terrible time trying to differentiate between what was real and what was fantasy. Her life- the non-magic one- was fading and merging with the Harry Potter world. But it was make believe...right?
She tried to think of the author....what was her name? JK Rowling. But...Rowling was also a famous witch authoress. Which was the reality?
Suddenly she was jolted from her reverie. The stairs beneath her had begun to move.
"Holy fucking shit!" She hissed, turning around. Being on the top step, there was nothing between her falling over backward and the ground a thousand hundred million miles below. (Okay, it seemed that was to her, she has vertigo. 0.0)
She crawled backward on all fours, clutching the guard rail for dear life. She whimpered pathetically, watching the room around her pass in a blur.
Finally, the stairs stopped abruptly, right in front of a portrait of a large, buxom woman in a pink, frilly dress. It was tilted up for some reason, but Ethra was too nauseous to think about it. She launched off her ass and toward the stationary landing. But something blocked her launch. She hit her nose hard and heard a thump, as she landed softly, about a foot, it seemed from the ground.
She heard a groan and felt a wand stick into her side, and suddenly she realized what was going on.
"Harry?" She whispered. He didn't answer, so she reached for where she presumed his face was. The thin air beneath her squirmed, but she managed to get a hold of something and rolled to the side, pulling hard.
Suddenly, beside her, a dark-haired figure jumped up from the ground and pointed its wand at her.
"Harry, is that you?" Ethra whispered again.
"Wh-why did you try to attack me?" He whispered, obviously a little hurt.
"I didn't!" She sighed. "I was trying to get away from that god-awful moving step thing."
He kept his wand trained on her.
"Oh, come on, Harry. Why would I attack you?"
"I can think of, I don't know, a thousand reasons. It's been spread all around school what happened earlier."
"Happened...earlier...when earlier?"
"You and Snape..."
"Urm..." She thought back. Not the most recent encounter, surely. Oh! Of course. "When Malfoy walked in, then."
Harry nodded. "Yes."
"Well he's not out to get you either. In fact-"
"Sh!" Harry hissed urgently. Footsteps.
Harry reached down and grabbed Ethra, pulling her to her feet, then grabbed the cloak. He pulled her close to him and draped the cloak over the both of them.
He moved them over, up some stairs and down a long, dark hallway, and positioned them in a corner. He lit his wand and reached down to pull something from the pocket of his jeans, when he caught sight of what Ethra was wearing. His face reddened.
"Long story." She whispered. Harry pulled out a piece of parchment. The Marauders Map. It was already visible, and he opened it quickly.
"It's..Snape." He said quietly.