Suicide Jumps
22:20 All Hallow's Eve
"Shoo! Shoo!"
Professor McGonagall ran full tilt into the entrance hall, face redder than a Weasley's hair.
"Shoo!" She panted again, clutching a stitch in her side.
Not one bird so much as flinched.
"SHOO!" She screeched, brandishing her wand, which emitted a bang of cannon-like proportion.
En masse the flamingos flew into the air (along with several of the more jumpy onlookers) accompanied by a cacophony of indignant squawks. McGonagall was completely enveloped in them. When they passed, heading for the wider school expanses, everyone present, from first year to seventh, Slytherin to Gryffindor, prankster to boffin, froze. Covered in shrimps and bird droppings, hair escaping from its usually army-neat bun, face hot enough to fry an egg on, she was a truly terrifying sight. Several of the closest students took an involuntary step back in the face of her blatant fury, and the whole crowd jumped a foot as she let out a bloodcurdling scream, no, it wasn't a scream, it could only be described as a battle cry:
"AIYEE-OO-YAAAAAAH!"
She flourished her wand like an impassioned knight defending Queen and country; "Reducto!" "Evanesco!" But the minor explosions emitted from her aura of blazing anger seemed to be doing nothing to decrease the numbers of the flock; it fact its size seemed to be… growing?
Soon it was obvious that whenever one of the insolently pink creatures detonated in a puff of bright feathers another ten swiftly took its place.
The sound of McGonagall grinding her teeth was audible even over the clatter of hundreds of wings. Suddenly, with the speed of a Tasmanian devil, she span to face the Weasleys and Harry.
"YOU!" She shrieked extending a quivering, dung-coated finger toward the trio. "You… flamingos… more…fireworks… expel… no, no, can't…gone… KILL!"
And she ran toward them, mouth open in a constant screech, arms extended zombie-fashion, flattening everyone in her path, looking for all the world like a demented steam roller wrapped in tartan.
Harry, Fred and George stood paralysed; mouths open in identical looks of horror. Something clicked in Harry's mind, "She thinks you did it because of the multiplying fireworks you set off last year, and now she's going to kill you, and me. Shit, RUN!"
And not thinking, quidditch reflexes taking over, he sprinted away as fast as his legs would carry him, Fred and George close on his heels. He dived as a beam of golden light narrowly missed his left side, picked himself up and carried on running. He picked out Ron and Ginny standing, jaws hanging at about knee-height, ahead of him. As he hurtled past he grabbed Ron's arm and the front of Ginny's robes and yanked them forward. There was a loud rip and a curse, then they were being borne along with him.
"YOU …TOO?… DIE!" more golden light, "NEVER… AGAIN… FINISHED… AZKABAN… MURDER!"
"Harry, you wanker!" Yelled Ginny, now pounding up the stairs on his left side, "She thought we were innocent!"
The object of Ginny's endearments chanced a quick glance over his shoulder. She was gaining. During his brief glance he noticed Fred's eyes contract, cat like, focusing on something in front and to the right of Harry. He looked quickly in that direction, but could see nothing of interest except the portraits, either looking on in horror, or, for some reason alien to Harry, laughing fit to burst. His heart was pounding and his mind was blank as to where to go next, the wild scream behind him was getting closer…
"Right! BEAR RIGHT!" shouted Fred, and Harry swung himself around the doorframe, stomach soaring. Fred had overtaken him now, puffing and blowing. He leapt up a staircase and Harry made to follow suit…
It was changing, swinging away, there was no time to stop so he jumped, heart in his mouth, he landed painfully on his knees, and was struggling to stand when George sailed right over him and carried on upwards. Harry looked behind to see Ron, screaming, hurl himself across the void and land teetering on the edge, arms wind milling furiously and he grabbed him and pulled him in. Then he froze in horror. The gap was now at least four metres wide, the drop (he gulped) must have been thirty down to the stone floor far, far below. And Ginny was still coming on strong, blazing hair flying behind her like a bonfire in a hurricane.
"Ginny, stop! There's no way you can make it!" He shouted desperately.
"I bloody well can!" She screamed back as she reached the edge, and leapt…
Time seemed to stop. There was no way on earth she would make it, Harry stretched out his arms and…
"OOF!"
"Get out the way, Harry!" Ginny had barrelled into him, sprung catlike to her feet and carried on. He blinked, and stood there gawping stupidly for a moment. Ginny turned round, groaned, ran back down the stairs, grabbed him and heaved her on behind him. Harry glanced over his shoulder as he was dragged away, feet on autopilot. For one wild, exhilarating moment he thought they'd lost her, but then he saw the tabby cat leaping gracefully toward the ever moving staircase; McGonagall had obviously transformed into her animagus form to make the jump. He groaned and began running at full speed again. Right, left, right.
They were in a dead end, grey walls leading to a bare expanse of stone, ornamented only by one small portrait.
"Fred you fool!"
But Fred was still sprinting full tilt toward the wall. And he dived. Sailing through the air, arms extended like a high diver. "Snot!" He yelled as he twisted in midair… he was going to crash right into the portrait of the suggestively gyrating belly dancer …
Fred flew right threw the portrait as if it were smoke and disappeared from view.
Harry gasped and began analysing the set-up more closely. The beckoning dancer suddenly held new meaning. He gulped as he took in the dynamics; the portrait was about a metre and a half up and only the size of one of Hermione's larger books. He wasn't even sure if his shoulders were thin enough to get through, but Fred was wider than him. Still, no way. Although Ginny managed that suicidal jump to the stairs…
"NO WAY!" yelled Ron, agreeing with Harry's thoughts.
"YOU HAVE TO DO IT!" Shouted back George, who was just behind him. "JUST YELL SNOT AND THINK POSITIVE!"
"No way." Ron repeated slowing down.
AIYEE-OO-YAAAAAAH!
"MCGONAGALL! DO IT RON!"
With a bloodcurdling howl Ron threw himself at the portrait, "Snot!"
"Snot!" Echoed George as he followed suit, performing an elegant dolphin like leap, "COME ON GI-"
Harry heard Ginny gulp. He couldn't see her face as she was ahead of him, but he imagined it was as white as snow. The portrait was now pointing between her legs as she twirled and span.
"I can't do it…"
"Yes you can Gin!"
"THIS IS YOUR FAULT- SNOT!" The youngest Weasley howled as she threw herself as high as she could… she was through. Now only Harry was left.
"I can do it, I can do It", he repeated mantra like in his head as he sprinted full speed toward the far wall.
He leapt.
"There's no way in hell I'm getting through that."
"Snot!"
His head and shoulders were through, but his already bruised knees banged agonizingly against the frame and was he pitched forward…
Draco Malfoy swept through the cold dungeon passages, relishing the feel of the chill air as it caressed his hot face, "That mudblood deserves to suffer, this is not enough, I should have let Millicent have her way with her, that would teach her", he thought furiously, taking deep breaths to calm himself. In his rage he kicked out savagely at the wall, "How DARE she judge me?"
His fury was an unhealthy distraction, and he forced himself back under control. He smoothed his robes and knocked on the heavy oak door he had come to a stop in front of. When it grudgingly opened he forced his features into a concerned expression, and began to speak in his in his silkiest drawl; "Professor…"
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