Author Notes: You cannot say that I took a long time to update this time! I deliberately took time off writing my other fan fictions to write another chapter for you faithful readers of Harry Potter and the Chime of the Warrior. Thank you so much for your reviews- Yay! Reviews!- and some of your comments just blew me away, thank you so much, you could never understand how much I appreciate them. Thanks in particular to Misty-Eyed Pixie and Hnz786. I would appreciate it a lot if you could leave me your ASL? Age sex location. Coz it's nice to know what kind of people read my fics. That ok with you? Alright, here's the next chapter!
Chapter 4- Neither can live while the other survives
Harry closed his eyes, his temples throbbing. He tried his best to hold back the anger, and instead a sigh rose up in his throat. He opened his eyes again when he heard a yelp, and to his surprise he found Arthur Weasley standing ankle deep in purple goo.
"I fell off," Arthur admitted. "And now I'm stuck." Harry felt like crying; things were going from bad to worse. They had jumped straight out the frying pan and into the fire. Arthur lent across to the door, and pressed the emergency exit button. The doors stayed firmly shut. He tried to prise the doors open with his bare hands, but they wouldn't budge. Harry noticed that every minute they spent in the lift they were getting hotter and hotter; and seeing as they were in a metal box, it was as effective as an oven.
The metal hand bar Harry was clutching to keep him out of the goo was scalding his hands; he'd felt pain before, from the hands of his aunt and uncle, but he had never before hurt so much, aside from the pains in his scar sent by Lord Voldemort. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind, than his sweaty forehead blazed with pain.
It was too much for Harry. The heat, his burns, and his fiery scar all burnt into his mind, and he blacked out and slumped on the floor, using the purple goo as a cushion for his troubled mind.
A horribly disfigured man wearing a black cloak passed in front of his vision. Red, fiery eyes turned and bored into his head, and two bony white hands pulled out of their sleeves to snake towards him. Smoky black lips parted, to form these words in a dull whisper:
"You will never get out. You are trapped. I will kill you. I am Lord Voldemort. I Will Kill You."
He said the last sentence as if it were the capitalized title of a book. A dull ringing sound filled the young boy's ears, and he sat up straighter in order to hear the next words of his captor.
"Neither can live while the other survives."
Those seven words sent a chill down the boy's spine. They were very powerful words, and he knew that they had a very important meaning, but in his fallen state, the boy could make neither head nor tale of it. He shook his head and rolled over, groaning, only to be kicked back into his original position by a thin bony leg. When he was again lying on his back, the tall figure bent down, so his red eyes were level with the boy's green ones. Those next few seconds they stayed like that, looking into each other's eyes, staring each other out. In the end, the red eyes won, as the boy pulled away from the visual embrace with a whimper. Lord Voldemort laughed, although it was more like a cackle, and stood back up again, calling over his shoulder some words that the boy couldn't hear, for he was still curled up in a ball, eyes shut tight, trying to rid him self of all the memories that were flooding back to him. There was a sudden wind, and the boy's eyes flew open in answer to no will of his own. In the sky was a large face of a man. It was scarred and bruised, and no extent of magic of the highest quality would be able to fix the slanted features of this mismatched face. The boy found that if he looked at the head out of the corner of his eye, its composition changed, although it was a little blurry and he found that as soon as he looked away, he had forgotten the image. It was like it had been swiped from his memory. The image of the face when looked at directly, however, was a different matter. It was disgusting, but the boy found that when he closed his eyes, the image was seemingly imprinted in the backs of his eyelids. Again, his eyelids flew open, and he found that the face in the skin had floated down so that it was only inches above his face. It began to speak, and the boy could feel its breath hot on his face.
"You come to me," the figure chuckled, "but once you get here, you will never. Ever. Return." With a final chuckle, flecks of saliva flying off its bottom lip and hitting the boy in the face, the head disappeared with a small pop. The boy looked around, and saw that the cloaked man, too, was gone. He was left alone. Curling up in a ball and moaning softly, the boy vaguely wondered what the sticky substance under his head was.
Harry woke with a start. There was a dark figure crouched over him, and he instinctively lashed out, meeting no dark forces of resistance. His hand hit skin with a cruel slap, and when Harry's vision cleared he was sorry to find Arthur Weasley crouched over him, clutching his cheek.
"I'm… I'm sorry," Harry stammered, mind still reeling from his strange dream. He quickly relayed its contents to his companion, and then realised that he was lying on purple goo. To his surprise, he wasn't stuck to it, as Mr Weasley had been, but he found that he could peel himself off rather easily; although it did leave a rather nasty purple stain. "What's our situation," he asked, after checking himself over. He had some rather nasty welts on his hands, and his back was sore, but apart from that he seemed to be fine.
"Well, we're still stuck in this ruddy lift, and I'm still stuck in this awful gooey stuff, no matter how hard I pull at my feet. You fainted about an hour ago, and you've been wailing softly ever since. Proper unnerving, it was. Wasn't even proper screaming, just this really soft shouting. So soft, that I couldn't make out the words. I tried my best to wake you up, I really did, but it was like you were under some sort of charm, nothing would work. And it's been getting hotter and hotter in here. No magic spells work on the door. What I want to know is when are they going to get us out of this hell hole?" Only now did Harry realise that Arthur had taken his shirt off, and realised his own was clinging to him.
"Well, that… that scary face in the sky… I think he was the Warrior. He was really deformed, but when I looked out of the corner of my eye, he changed. I couldn't see it completely, because it was blurred, but what I did see, I forgot immediately afterwards. It said… he said… 'You come to me, but once you get here you will never, ever return'." Harry recalled the words with a shudder. "That… that implies that we will get to the Warrior, so we must get out of here somehow." As if on his command, there was a ping, and the lights sprang on. At once the lift continued its descent and Harry suppressed another shudder. "How we get out after we've found him… I don't know." Harry starting convulsing, and once again found him self on the purple sticky floor. Two firm hands caught him under the armpits and hauled him back to standing.
"Are you sure you're well enough for this?" Arthur asked, unconvinced. "Once we get off, we can always try and find another way out. I don't care if I get sent to Azkaban; you just say the word and I'll apparate you out of here."
Harry shook his head. "No. I have to see the Warrior. Whatever it takes. I have to find out who he is. I have to send him to Azkaban, when no one else can. I'd rather die myself than leave the world to the horrible fate of this man."
"Then I'm coming with you," Arthur decided.
Harry groaned and shook his head again. "No. Don't put yourself in unnecessary danger. Your family needs you."
"It's not unnecessary," Arthur said firmly. "This is very, very necessary. As for my family needing me… I'd rather die myself than leave you to face the horrible fate of this man alone." Arthur attempted a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Neither of the two occupants of the lift believed that they would get away from the Warrior alive.
Author notes: dun dun dunnn! Hope you liked this chappy, please review! And please, if you don't mind, leave your age, gender and location in this wonderful world we live in. Coming up in the next chapter: Harry's inevitable meeting with the Warrior; but will he have to face him alone? Also if you don't mind, it'd be nice to have some guesses about what's going to happen in the next chapter? Thank you, and goodnight xxx