(Forgive the lateness, but school and work have all but
monopolized my time. Here are two chapters for your enjoyment, and as
always, read and review!!! -Matt)
Chapter Three... Drone
My eyes snapped open and I voiced a soundless scream, my own fingernails clawing into the pillowcase and into my face.
What, I thought as my fingers abruptly fell limp. I sat up and looked at them, wriggling them and rotating my wrists, how did that happen?
I got out of bed and ran into the lavatory. There were three small gouges on either cheek that shone wetly in the light of the mirror.
"Good Lord, Dear... what happened to you?!" The mirror inquired in an almost motherly tone. I grabbed a clean washcloth and soaked it in the warm water of the basin... I scrubbed my face, only vaguely aware of the stinging salve in the water, and I looked in the mirror. The gouges were still there, but at least they were no longer bloody. Now, they looked as if I had scratched several large mosquito bites on my face.
My hands were moving without me, the realization finally hit me, and I leaned against the tiled wall. What kind of magic could do that, aside from the Imperius Curse... but I thought that you had to be awake to do that...
The gouges began to ache... I guess I should go see Madam Pomfrey. As I left the Lavatory, I couldn't help but feel less protected than I thought I was.
---"And how exactly did you do this to yourself, Mister Potter?" Madam Pomfrey leaned in and stared right at my wounds as I shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
"I took a bit of a tumble off my bed, ma'am," I spoke shrilly as I recalled the story I had concocted on the way down, "Hedwig decided to roost on my dresser last night, and I guess it spooked me to see her right next to me when I woke up."
She shook her head as she rubbed a violet salve onto each gouge, which gave me an odd tingling sensation reminiscent of icy hands all over my face, "I swear, Potter, you Fifth-years make mistakes a First-year would laugh at. But that doesn't explain that cut lip you have right there... probably bled all over the pillows. That kind of thing makes the house-elves queasy."
Cut lip?! I felt my face, and sure enough, I could feel the scab where I had fallen last night. My stomach gave a sick turn inside of me, and I could only think of one thing...
... last night was real.
"I can only fix the scab, but you still might have a scar there..."
A scar.
Breakfast had already passed, but a growling in my belly drove me into the Great Hall. I briefly scanned the room to ensure that no one was watching, and I walked over to the large painting at the far end decorated with fruit. The pear slowly floated in the bottom left of the painting - I reached down and gently tickled it, and the giggling pear produced a small doorknob that I used to enter the Kitchen.
It was just as I had remembered it, complete with the countless house-elves scurrying all over the place. I couldn't spot Dobby's colorful attire anywhere, but a swarthy house-elf stepped up to me.
"Hello, good sir. What may we be helping you with?" He said in as gruff a voice as a house-elf could produce. I suddenly felt quite bad about interrupting whatever they were doing, but my hunger got the best of me in the end.
"I was wondering, if its no trouble, if you could make me a small snack for me to take to the common room?"
Almost immediately, twelve elves sprang into action, pulling collectively a wicker basket, a violet wrapping, and warm biscuits into a neat package. The gruff house-elf handed me the basket and gazed up at me.
"Thank you." I said, and the gaggle of elves bowed and resumed their work.
I left the kitchen in better spirits than I had entered - the warm, sweet biscuits worked wonders for my mood - and I came to a window in the corridor.
Well, I thought, this is as good a place as any. I sat down in the U-bend and unwrapped another biscuit. They were crisp and buttery, almost melting when they touched my tongue. I watched the grey sky gradually lighten in tone, and I could see the sleds coasting along the icy face of the lake below. The sounds of laughter reached my ears, and I forgot about my loneliness for a moment... about everything.... it was just me and the cool, winter air.
---Ginny sat alone in the Orchard, surrounded on either side by the leafy branches. The late night air was unusually crisp for the summer, and she shivered suddenly. An icy breeze prickled the skin on her neck. She tried to shrug off the unsettling feeling, but something squirmed in her belly. Ginny had heard of stalkers in the Muggle world, and the similar tactics utilized by the Death Eaters.
Something touched the back of her neck.
She turned to look behind her... but nothing was there. That was odd, she thought as she pulled the blanket around her a bit closer, she could have sworn that someone was there. She felt it.
I shouldn't be so tense, she thought, I came out here to relax. Ginny could forget everything in the Orchard, sleeping comfortably in the familiar darkness within the tree. There were berries in the tree, shimmering like black diamonds and with the scent of baking peaches. Their bittersweet, spicy taste was still on her tongue.
"Hey," a soft voice called from just below her, "Why are you out here this late?"
Ginny turned her gaze down to meet Harry's ethereal green eyes, and she felt her breath taken from her for just a minute. There was something else with her, leering at the man-child below her. It hissed obscene violation into her ears, vitriolic tongue like a snake slithering around her neck and down her nightshirt, between her breasts and into her stomach.
She gasped and slid off of her branch. With speed he didn't know he had, Harry rushed forward and caught Ginny's arms. They crashed to the earth together, and Ginny clutched at Harry's shirt and tried to scream, but she couldn't.
She felt the tongue in her mouth.
She gagged on it, and as Harry righted himself, Ginny fell to the ground. It jerked and writhed in her throat as it forced its way into her belly. She felt strong hands on her shoulders and they pulled her to a sitting position. Ron struggled to restrain her as Harry ran back to the house to get help. Only Ron heard the word that escaped her lips...
---I emerged from the corridor into the common room. It was unoccupied for the time being, so I decided to take advantage of it while I could. I curled up in a deep-seated chair by the fireplace and let the warmth wash over me. The biscuits had been absolutely delicious and a new drowsiness took hold of me. The light filled the room... wait a moment. I sat up again and ran up to my room.Cho's letter still lay upon my dresser. I seized it with a new vitality and read it aloud.
---
Harry,
I wish for your company at dinner tonight in the Ravenclaw common room. I already asked Dumbledore for permission and he said yes. Please send me your reply as quickly as you can. Thank you.
-Cho Chang
---I sat there for a moment contemplating this.
"What have I got to lose:?" I whispered as I pulled a piece of parchment from my desk. In it I hastily scribbled my reply.
---
Cho,
Absolutely.
-Harry Potter
---
Arthur dropped his things and ran inside. His wife was already ahead of him on the stairs, and they managed a silent mutual greeting before resuming to the trouble at hand. Bill and Charlie Weasley were standing outside of Ron's open door. Arthur shoved his way past them and entered the room.
The walls were a garish orange in color, and there were assorted magazines on the floor. And in the bed, Ron Weasley twitched and writhed.
Arthur rushed to his son's bed and held his arms down, but he could still hear Ron's teeth grinding and gnashing. Then, as if a switch had been thrown, he fell limp in his father's arms, and something within him made a voice so otherworldly in nature Bill sank to his knees in pain.
"Mujaki..."