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KellyBear · 10-07-2009, 01:26 PM

Neville plodded ahead of Filch, not resisting exactly, but not in any hurry to reach their destination either. Luna strolled along, matching his pace, apparently absorbed in studying the portraits and accoutrements that hung on the castle walls. Filch had them each by the elbow and though he growled and grumbled, he didn’t seem in rush to reach the dungeons either.

This should have surprised Neville but it didn’t. When Umbridge left, Filch had sulked for months but he had eventually recovered to his former nasty self, railing at students and waxing warm about the “good old days“. When Dumbledore died, however, the life had seemed to go out of him and he’d seemed no more than a shadow, just one more ghost in the castle. Now, with Snape as Headmaster, he cowered and skulked, much like a beaten dog. The Death Eaters regarded him as filth and he spent most of his time just trying to stay out of their way, trying not to get kicked.

Down they went, passed the Slytherin Common Room, deep into the bowels of the castle. Filch’s lantern swayed crazily. It shone on one damp, moldy stone wall, then another, but the path before them remained indistinct in the ricocheting pools of light. Neville tried to peer ahead, to see what awaited them but it was no use. It was as though someone had used Peruvian Darkness Powder in the corridor ahead. Luna had taken a particular interest in the floor, and Neville wondered why she was staring at it so intently.

He looked at the floor but in the erratic light, he could make out nothing more interesting than sand and dirt on stone. He sighed and gave up trying to work out what might be going on in Luna’s mind. Her thoughts were like quicksilver and she always seemed to be three steps ahead, when she wasn’t just plain strange. He had always liked the way her mind worked, but he found it impossible to guess her thoughts.

“You, in here.” Filch shoved Luna into a hole that appeared suddenly in the stone wall next to them. The moment she was through, the wall resealed itself as though the opening had never been. Neville’s heart raced and he felt hopelessness begin to overwhelm him. How could they possibly escape? Were they to be left and forgotten?

The castle seemed to be pressing down on him from above. The stone walls seemed so close and the air seemed to be rushing out of the corridor. He squeezed his eyes shut and allowed Filch’s hand on his elbow to guide him. He needed to get control of himself. Claustrophobia in the dungeons would drive him mad, and he would not allow that.

“Here we are, then.” said Filch, pitching Neville through a wall that was no longer there. Neville scrambled to his feet, but the wall behind him had sealed itself shut. The room was no more than a stone box--no windows, no doors--and Neville had to beat back the claustrophobia once more.

Neville sat in the center of the room, closed his eyes, and pictured himself in a wide open field. In his imagination, he surrounded himself with hundreds of rare and beautiful plants. One by one, he began to study and catalogue them, saying their names aloud to fracture the encompassing silence. In this way, he set his mind free.

An: I was trying to let you catch up, Ottybear, but the story must go on

This post however, is more of an interlude. It's a chance to catch your breath before...well, you'll see...

10-07-2009, 01:26 PM	#121 (permalink)
KellyBear Comet aka Fred K/O Fred's Last Laugh Puffskein Join Date: Aug 2005 Location: ♥Lovin' Ottery Posts: 2,252 Hogwarts RPG Name: Nynevah de Wynter	The Stone Box Ottery's Editor-In-Chief Resident Heartbreaker Neville plodded ahead of Filch, not resisting exactly, but not in any hurry to reach their destination either. Luna strolled along, matching his pace, apparently absorbed in studying the portraits and accoutrements that hung on the castle walls. Filch had them each by the elbow and though he growled and grumbled, he didn’t seem in rush to reach the dungeons either. This should have surprised Neville but it didn’t. When Umbridge left, Filch had sulked for months but he had eventually recovered to his former nasty self, railing at students and waxing warm about the “good old days“. When Dumbledore died, however, the life had seemed to go out of him and he’d seemed no more than a shadow, just one more ghost in the castle. Now, with Snape as Headmaster, he cowered and skulked, much like a beaten dog. The Death Eaters regarded him as filth and he spent most of his time just trying to stay out of their way, trying not to get kicked. Down they went, passed the Slytherin Common Room, deep into the bowels of the castle. Filch’s lantern swayed crazily. It shone on one damp, moldy stone wall, then another, but the path before them remained indistinct in the ricocheting pools of light. Neville tried to peer ahead, to see what awaited them but it was no use. It was as though someone had used Peruvian Darkness Powder in the corridor ahead. Luna had taken a particular interest in the floor, and Neville wondered why she was staring at it so intently. He looked at the floor but in the erratic light, he could make out nothing more interesting than sand and dirt on stone. He sighed and gave up trying to work out what might be going on in Luna’s mind. Her thoughts were like quicksilver and she always seemed to be three steps ahead, when she wasn’t just plain strange. He had always liked the way her mind worked, but he found it impossible to guess her thoughts. “You, in here.” Filch shoved Luna into a hole that appeared suddenly in the stone wall next to them. The moment she was through, the wall resealed itself as though the opening had never been. Neville’s heart raced and he felt hopelessness begin to overwhelm him. How could they possibly escape? Were they to be left and forgotten? The castle seemed to be pressing down on him from above. The stone walls seemed so close and the air seemed to be rushing out of the corridor. He squeezed his eyes shut and allowed Filch’s hand on his elbow to guide him. He needed to get control of himself. Claustrophobia in the dungeons would drive him mad, and he would not allow that. “Here we are, then.” said Filch, pitching Neville through a wall that was no longer there. Neville scrambled to his feet, but the wall behind him had sealed itself shut. The room was no more than a stone box--no windows, no doors--and Neville had to beat back the claustrophobia once more. Neville sat in the center of the room, closed his eyes, and pictured himself in a wide open field. In his imagination, he surrounded himself with hundreds of rare and beautiful plants. One by one, he began to study and catalogue them, saying their names aloud to fracture the encompassing silence. In this way, he set his mind free. An: I was trying to let you catch up, Ottybear, but the story must go on This post however, is more of an interlude. It's a chance to catch your breath before...well, you'll see... __________________ Your flavour is strawberry. You're a sweet person and a Gryffindor at heart. You see risks and know they are just another part of life. You are loyal and hold your loved ones close, their happiness is your prize. ♥ Last edited by KellyBear; 10-07-2009 at 01:38 PM. Reason: Grammar! gasp