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Derfel · 11-10-2011, 12:58 PM

A/N: this chapter is a bit darker than previous ones

Three days had passed since Hermione had last seen Ron; Harry still had no news of him and Ginny had gone almost as long without seeing her man. The happiness Ginny had felt when she and Harry had made up seemed a lifetime ago. Though she did not realise it; she had not thought about James in a while either.
The children were happy, they were distracted by homework and increasingly heavy snowfall; which forced them not to dwell on unhappy thoughts at risk of being hit unawares by a snowball.
George turned up the morning of christmas eve, asking for volunteers to help him send deliveries in time for the next day. Albus, who over the course of the week had forgotten he was angry with his uncle readily agreed and the pair had promptly disappeared.
Hugo had been too engrossed in his sketchbook to hear his uncle arrive and the girls were once again trying to piece together what had happened in Hogsmeade. Lying on their stomachs in front of the fireplace, they were debating the significance of Cei's surname.
"I always thought he was welsh," Rose countered Lily's claim that the surname meant the boy had been french. "He certainly gave that impression anyway. Do you remember how he reacted when Scorpius insulted him in the Great Hall?"
"Of course I do," Lily's eyes lit up as she remembered how savage Cei had been, how he seemed to momentarily lose control, "he also said that Scorpius was wrong on several counts. Could his nationality be one of those? Hugo might know." With that, Lily clambered to her feet and, followed by Rose, went in search of her cousin.
Hugo jumped when Rose shouted his name from the doorframe into Percy's old room; he quickly closed his sketchbook as he turned nervously toward his sister.
"What are you doing?" She asked, pretending ignorance at his guilty demeanour.
"Nothing." Hugo's cheeks burned bright red.
"Liar," Rose walked over to him and grabbed the sketchbook, throwing it to Lily before Hugo could snatch it back.

Ron's body was little more than a vessel of pain. He could not move his arms and any exposed skin was a mass of old and fresh bruises and all his fingers were broken. James had tied him to a medieval rack, stretching the older man's limbs until he was sure they were about to dislocate. Ron's mouth was stuffed with an old, tar covered lump of hemp.
Out of the corner of his least swollen eye, Ron could see the outline of what James had called an Iron Maiden. It's dull metallic outline sinister in the wavering green light. An illusion the diamond tipped spikes on the arms did little to combat. Most terrifying of all; the Maiden's head was modelled on Hermione.
James' partner had returned while Ron was first unaware of his environment. The smell of blood and faeces caused the man to breath shallowly through his mouth to avoid gagging. "Time you were off, Potter. The Weasley's need you after all." Both wizards laughed before the older one spoke again, "Krull approves but urges speed. Can you cope?"
Ron, unhappily awake at this point, recognised a dismissive sneer in the final question, began struggling; panic overcoming pain.
"I'm fine with it," James snapped, reaching down to stretch Ron further, only stopping when his uncle had stopped squirming. "Remember, we need to keep this thing alive." He playfully slapped Ron's cheek before disappearing.
The older wizard moved so that he was able to stare into Ron's eyes and block out any light Ron could see. "Hello, Weaselking. Crucio!"

The watcher blinked in surprise when Ron Weasley -taking a sip from a hip flask - left the Seneschal ruins; the only sign of life in the copse as the winter shower lashed the surroundings. At dawn, he vanished.

Hermione had been dragged shopping by Fleur, the french woman convinced that some retail therapy would help her sister-in-law, so it was with much merriment that the two girls showed Hugo's sketchbook to Ginny. The page currently showed a female centaur with particularly large, uncovered, endowments.
"How sick is he?" Rose asked indignantly. Her nature meant she struggled to get to terms with someone being so perverted.
Ginny giggled at her niece. "Let me ask you something, Rose. How many sculptures and portraits in Hogwarts feature half naked people? Also, where did Scorpius' hands spend most of their time when the two of you were alone?"
Lily laughed when her cousin, speechless, went bright pink.

A tall man, dressed from head to toe in black dragonhide had passed Hermione and Fleur in a manner that reminded Hermione of Lucius Malfoy's relationship with Dobby.
As she waited patiently to put money back in her vault, she noticed the attitude of the goblins change from sneering politness to unadulterated fear as the black clothed man entered the bank. Several goblins fled, wanting to warn others of an all too lifelike ghost.
Hermione noted an amused look in the man's eyes, how he seemed unaffected by a sudden drop in air temperature - which caused many witches and wizards to feel a spike of fear themselves - and didn't even flinch when, one by one, the torches and chandeliers that lit the great bank, noisily extinguished themselves.
A couple of torches, those nearest to the lone wizard refired with a white flame.
Hrolthgar entered the hall to investigate whatever had spooked his employees. He wore his finest Dedun robes: deep scarlet with intricate details in gold, silver and platinum. He carried an equally ornate mace, made from a combination of bronze and diamond. The carvings on the mace showed legends of Dedun and, at the top, a large depiction of the horned god's benevolent face. Hrolthgar's own face was covered by a silver skull mask.
In the darkness, Hrolthgar's robes appeared jet black, hiding his powerful build. He turned to the wizard, his back to the doors leading to the vaults. "What can Hrolthgar, humble priest of Dedun, do for you, my son?" Hrolthgar's tone was soft, conciliatory. "Who are you to disturb Dedun's hallowed halls?"
The wizard's reply was in a surprisingly deep voice. "Who am I? I am you death, Priest." The wizard moved his left wrist a fraction and Hrolthgar collapsed; a highly polished shuriken embedded in his neck, draining his lifeblood.
Before anyone could react, the wizard disappeared in a cloud of smoke and the lights returned to normal.
Somewhere in the crowd, a scream.

Chapter 12

11-10-2011, 12:58 PM	#51 (permalink)
Derfel Jarvey Join Date: Sep 2009 Location: Wales Posts: 637 Hogwarts RPG Name: Ambrocinius Fifth Year	A/N: this chapter is a bit darker than previous ones Three days had passed since Hermione had last seen Ron; Harry still had no news of him and Ginny had gone almost as long without seeing her man. The happiness Ginny had felt when she and Harry had made up seemed a lifetime ago. Though she did not realise it; she had not thought about James in a while either. The children were happy, they were distracted by homework and increasingly heavy snowfall; which forced them not to dwell on unhappy thoughts at risk of being hit unawares by a snowball. George turned up the morning of christmas eve, asking for volunteers to help him send deliveries in time for the next day. Albus, who over the course of the week had forgotten he was angry with his uncle readily agreed and the pair had promptly disappeared. Hugo had been too engrossed in his sketchbook to hear his uncle arrive and the girls were once again trying to piece together what had happened in Hogsmeade. Lying on their stomachs in front of the fireplace, they were debating the significance of Cei's surname. "I always thought he was welsh," Rose countered Lily's claim that the surname meant the boy had been french. "He certainly gave that impression anyway. Do you remember how he reacted when Scorpius insulted him in the Great Hall?" "Of course I do," Lily's eyes lit up as she remembered how savage Cei had been, how he seemed to momentarily lose control, "he also said that Scorpius was wrong on several counts. Could his nationality be one of those? Hugo might know." With that, Lily clambered to her feet and, followed by Rose, went in search of her cousin. Hugo jumped when Rose shouted his name from the doorframe into Percy's old room; he quickly closed his sketchbook as he turned nervously toward his sister. "What are you doing?" She asked, pretending ignorance at his guilty demeanour. "Nothing." Hugo's cheeks burned bright red. "Liar," Rose walked over to him and grabbed the sketchbook, throwing it to Lily before Hugo could snatch it back. Ron's body was little more than a vessel of pain. He could not move his arms and any exposed skin was a mass of old and fresh bruises and all his fingers were broken. James had tied him to a medieval rack, stretching the older man's limbs until he was sure they were about to dislocate. Ron's mouth was stuffed with an old, tar covered lump of hemp. Out of the corner of his least swollen eye, Ron could see the outline of what James had called an Iron Maiden. It's dull metallic outline sinister in the wavering green light. An illusion the diamond tipped spikes on the arms did little to combat. Most terrifying of all; the Maiden's head was modelled on Hermione. James' partner had returned while Ron was first unaware of his environment. The smell of blood and faeces caused the man to breath shallowly through his mouth to avoid gagging. "Time you were off, Potter. The Weasley's need you after all." Both wizards laughed before the older one spoke again, "Krull approves but urges speed. Can you cope?" Ron, unhappily awake at this point, recognised a dismissive sneer in the final question, began struggling; panic overcoming pain. "I'm fine with it," James snapped, reaching down to stretch Ron further, only stopping when his uncle had stopped squirming. "Remember, we need to keep this thing alive." He playfully slapped Ron's cheek before disappearing. The older wizard moved so that he was able to stare into Ron's eyes and block out any light Ron could see. "Hello, Weaselking. Crucio!" The watcher blinked in surprise when Ron Weasley -taking a sip from a hip flask - left the Seneschal ruins; the only sign of life in the copse as the winter shower lashed the surroundings. At dawn, he vanished. Hermione had been dragged shopping by Fleur, the french woman convinced that some retail therapy would help her sister-in-law, so it was with much merriment that the two girls showed Hugo's sketchbook to Ginny. The page currently showed a female centaur with particularly large, uncovered, endowments. "How sick is he?" Rose asked indignantly. Her nature meant she struggled to get to terms with someone being so perverted. Ginny giggled at her niece. "Let me ask you something, Rose. How many sculptures and portraits in Hogwarts feature half naked people? Also, where did Scorpius' hands spend most of their time when the two of you were alone?" Lily laughed when her cousin, speechless, went bright pink. A tall man, dressed from head to toe in black dragonhide had passed Hermione and Fleur in a manner that reminded Hermione of Lucius Malfoy's relationship with Dobby. As she waited patiently to put money back in her vault, she noticed the attitude of the goblins change from sneering politness to unadulterated fear as the black clothed man entered the bank. Several goblins fled, wanting to warn others of an all too lifelike ghost. Hermione noted an amused look in the man's eyes, how he seemed unaffected by a sudden drop in air temperature - which caused many witches and wizards to feel a spike of fear themselves - and didn't even flinch when, one by one, the torches and chandeliers that lit the great bank, noisily extinguished themselves. A couple of torches, those nearest to the lone wizard refired with a white flame. Hrolthgar entered the hall to investigate whatever had spooked his employees. He wore his finest Dedun robes: deep scarlet with intricate details in gold, silver and platinum. He carried an equally ornate mace, made from a combination of bronze and diamond. The carvings on the mace showed legends of Dedun and, at the top, a large depiction of the horned god's benevolent face. Hrolthgar's own face was covered by a silver skull mask. In the darkness, Hrolthgar's robes appeared jet black, hiding his powerful build. He turned to the wizard, his back to the doors leading to the vaults. "What can Hrolthgar, humble priest of Dedun, do for you, my son?" Hrolthgar's tone was soft, conciliatory. "Who are you to disturb Dedun's hallowed halls?" The wizard's reply was in a surprisingly deep voice. "Who am I? I am you death, Priest." The wizard moved his left wrist a fraction and Hrolthgar collapsed; a highly polished shuriken embedded in his neck, draining his lifeblood. Before anyone could react, the wizard disappeared in a cloud of smoke and the lights returned to normal. Somewhere in the crowd, a scream. Chapter 12 __________________ The ballad of Gryffindors sword 16+ Chapter 12 up! Last edited by Derfel; 01-26-2012 at 02:31 AM.