HEY HEY HEY HEY!
Chappie 8 is up! I once again own nothing!
ENJOY!
I PROMISE I WILL WRITE MORE AFTER SCHOOL LETS OUT! It has been a VERY stressful couple of months!
There is one part in here form the musical wicked. The line. I don NOT OWN WICKED I mean no harm, it fit and without Elphie and Glinda singing it's deep.
Chapter 8
Loathing
Cedric sat on his bed alone and lost. He felt more numb than death could offer and he felt as empty and hallow as an empty Potions caldron. All he saw was a black but almost white light and all he felt was utmost feeling of depression. The depression was not from him. It was coming form Hermione.
He felt like more than one person was living in his skin. Hermione was always there. Most time comfort: but when she was so miserable she was a heavy weight and burden resting on his mind and heart. He loved her… and knowing she was in pain at every moment was murder for him.
He told himself to ignore it. He told himself to not always feel her in side him. But that was easier said than done.
He loved her.
Cedric Diggory loved Hermione Granger.
Now what?
Where does a young blind mute and deaf lovesick cripple go from here?
'Easy answer,' Cedric thought. Nowhere. No place.
Cedric ignored his blond curls clinging to the side of his face from sweat and pain. Well there wasn't much he could do about it even if he wanted to. His entire body was paralyzed. The empty smitten void in him was replaced with something so much darker and deeper.
His pulse was rushing. His head was reeling. His face was flushing.
It was loathing.
For Voldemort. For Malfoy. For everything wicked and evil.
It wasn't just for making him a cripple and unable to move and making him totally handicap.
It was for ruining Hermione's life. She could constantly feel him; feel his presence. She couldn't be her own person anymore. Never again could she just be herself. Never again could she be whole. She would always be his nurse and his lifeline.
And Cedric hated and loathed the Dark Side for one thing they allowed him to do, the one thing his body could do that showed emotion and expressed everything inside him. Cedric could do one thing because of the Dark Lord and he wished so much that he couldn't, and thinking it made him do it harder.
The only thing Cedric could do with his body…..
Was cry.
Harry was yelling. Loudly. He was yelling at Hermione and Ron for not writing him and not telling him about the order and this place and giving him informatin. The Order of the Phoenix in Sirius's home.
"Harry…we tried to tell you but we were forbidden!" Hermione tried to scream back at him but it came out more as a stuttered weak tone.
Harry could tell she was hurt from the things he was saying and his hot red angry face flashed a pitiful face of regret form one moment and was gone the next. He kept yelling. He kept screaming. Ron and Hermione were agreeing with him and fighting back.
Then Hermione felt the tiny magical prick in her mind that was Cedric. He was crying. Tears instantly filled her eyes and flooded down her cheeks. Harry glanced but took no notice. When he calmed he asked questions as Fred and George popped in.
Where was Voldemort? What was he doing? What was the Order doing? Who? What? Where? When? Why?
Hermione's brain was going to explode. Cedric's sadness and her best friend's anger and the evil and the darkness…
Boy was she going to have a headache.
When the conversation was done Hermione left to return to her room that she shared with Ginny. She thought about Tonks for a moment and hoped she was alright. She had been fine and dandy when she had left to retrieve Harry with the Guard.
Hermione sat in her dark grungy dust filled Haunted House looking room in a meditative possession crossing her legs on the floor. She went about performing simple spells and some new defensive ones she was being taught by random members of the Order.
As If a teenagers life couldn't get hard enough. Hermione had been told that a teens life was the happiest. A time they 'found themselves.' And had the best years of their lives. They were spent care freely and joyfully like a sappy ending to a cheesy romance movie. So much for that.
All she felt was sadness, sense of responsibility and loathing.
Voldemort, clad in his free flowing cloak paced back and forth.
It was a sight to see… the Dark Lord himself pacing back and forth in a humdrum situation. The Dark lord never paces, and he himself knew that. But this situation was different.
This was taking to long! The mudblood girl had to find the prophecy! He couldn't just waltz into the Department of Mysteries! SHE would have to find it, and he would make sure it was hand delivered.
Oh yes…mental Note… he had to find out the prophecy on Potter too. So many prophesies, so little time. But how?
Lets make this easy…. Kill two pitiful children with one stone! Get them BOTH into the Department of Mysteries! His genus surprised himself sometimes. The mudblood would go if Potter had to go there. Yes of course!
Haunt Potter's dreams! Why hadn't he thought of it before? One thing would lead to the other… she would go into the Department of Mysteries with him, she would find the prophecy, and Potter would find his prophecy and since both prophecies had to deal with killing Potter, he would discover them, kill Potter, the mudblood and the cripple boy before their prophecies came true and destroyed him forever.
Nothing to worry about.
Time was a key issue though.
There's never time when you evil.
You always have to be just one step ahead.
And he was. the pathetic children had no clue. None!
The loathing in Lord Voldemort's heart was about to snap. And he would come up on top. No matter what. He would murder he would kill pillage and plunder with no mercy.
But first…..
There was work to be done.
