Macaronic: Composed of a mixture of languages.
April 12, 1993
She could feel it happening again, and she tried to fight him off. Tried harder than she ever had before because she could feel something terrible about to happen. She pushed toward the door where a stream of students was already pouring out onto the grounds, thinking that if only she could reach the sunlight, escape these walls, he would be powerless.
But still she found herself turning away, climbing the marble staircase in a blur, as if she were dreaming. As awful as it seemed to her, she missed the days when he had taken control without her even noticing, when events like this would be smoothly eradicated from her memory. As terrifying and confusing as it was to wake up in a cold, dark part of the castle with no idea how she'd gotten there, it was so much worse to be a drugged passenger in her own body. Especially when she knew what was coming.
They were in the bathroom now. She stood before the cracked mirrors and grimy sinks. She could see herself reflected there, pale and strange-looking with no expression on her face, a jagged break in the glass running right through her left eye. Then he opened her mouth and terror spiked silently inside her at hearing those awful, harsh, hisses.
Open. She could hear the word beneath the hissing, but the truly scary thing was that she could not tell if it was her voice or his.
Everything was growing fuzzy and garbled. The bathroom seemed lost to a fog. She never knew what happened after she faced the mirror and spoke that first word. She couldn't have told anybody how to get into the Chamber anyway. Strange, over-bright images of the castle flashed oddly before her, voices and footsteps, echoing off the stone walls or inside her own head she couldn't tell.
She had almost slipped away entirely, succumbed to blissful unawareness. But something jarringly familiar brought her back. A voice she knew. Two voices she knew….
"... a Basilisk. It kills by looking you in the eye."
"But how do you know?"
"Trust me. Wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry?"
"And how are we to be safe?"
"Have you got a mirror to look around corners with?"
She wanted to scream, to yell out to them to get away, to sob for Tom to stop, but she just rounded the corner silent as a shadow. For an instant she saw them standing close together, both looking in the mirror. She saw Hermione's eyes find her in the reflection, saw the shock begin to spread over her face.
But the next second, her vision had faded out and all she was aware of was that garbled, entwined mix of words and hissing in a voice frighteningly unlike and at the same time frighteningly like her own. Time to kill.
And then came the scrape of a heavy body sliding across stone.
A/N: Ooo, kinda creepy, right? So this came out of nowhere, but I rather enjoyed writing it. An interesting foray into a different kind of scene. At least for me. Sorry I'm so far behind. Loads of homework and I have to give this awful speech tomorrow :/. And some people were asking about the HP Lexicon essay I mentioned. If you google Harry Potter Lexicon, it's the first sight that comes up. I tried finding the essay again, but I didn't have a lot of time to look for the exact link. I think there's a way to find essays, and then just scroll to you hit the topic you're looking for. Sorry, I'll do more research for you if you want.