The Dark Mark (The Girl Who Lived part II)

The Creature Feature

George woke me up as soon as the sun had risen above the horizon. We needed as much daylight as we could get. There was no electricity to allow us to continue the search at night. We marched through the swamp, as a heavy fog settled in. "Anything over there?" I shouted to Fred from across the heavy mist. "No luck yet. What about you, George?" Fred asked. "Not a single sign". As George said this, I saw the colors yellow, red, and black, in the corner of my eye. The box. 

I headed in that direction. What I had thought I had seen , was indeed the box. In my hands, I took the box. "I found it!' I turned, expecting to be able to see the twins not far behind me. The fog had gotten thicker. So thick in fact, that I couldn't see farther than a few feet away. The only color that was visible around the sea of clouds, was my hair as black as night and the enchanted box that had brought us here. 'I'll simply retrace my steps'. I had thought. Well, that wasn't quite as easy as you would think. I turned in all directions. Which direction had I come from? I couldn't quite remember. I was in such a rush to retrieve the box, that I hadn't taken note of where I had come from. "Scarlet, where are you?" George said this, and then Fred. Their voices echoing all throughout the swamp. "Right here! I found the box!" I wandered aimlessly, in search of the sources of the echoes. I waited for a response as I heard my voice echo up and through the forest of cypress trees.

"Scarlet, stay right there. We'll find you". "Alright". We played a game similar to Marco Polo. They called, and I answered. Hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I felt as though I were being watched. A pair of sharp amber eyes with slit pupils penetrated the thick fog. With every inch that I stepped back, the four-legged creature crawled took four. "Fred! George!" Before I had known it, my back hit a hard flat surface. No matter where I turned, there was no way out but past the creature with its jagged teeth. "Scarlet!" It crept closer. I gripped the box tighter in my hands as if I were in the ocean and it were my life preserver. The monster opened its wide jaws, to be soon ready to clamp it quickly shut again. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was pushed to the side by a force. Only had I realized that I was on the ground, was from the pain afterward. I opened my eyes. Fred and George laying on top of me. We were no longer in the swamp. We'd been transported back into the work space of Weasleys' Wizardly Wheezes that doubled as a sleeping area. 

"We're back? Fred, George! Get up! We're back!" I quickly shook them on the shoulder. Fred quickly looked up. In the joy of the moment, Fred crushed me in a large embrace. "That was so extremely close. Thank god we got out of there just in time". He said. As we leaped for joy, we noticed that George was nothing more than a lump on the floor. The mood in he atmosphere changed as quick as the flip of a switch. Joyous to melancholy in an instant. In a millisecond. "George?" He didn't move. As we waited for a response, a pool of blood grew around him. He was clutching something. Fred and I flipped George over. He clutched his side. He must've lost about a pint of blood by now. 

"Fred, get me some bandages and products to disinfect the wound". I applied more pressure to the wound. His eyes closed. His head, falling to one side. "George. I need you to stay awake. George!" It took him a few seconds to respond. His eyes fluttered open. Fred returned with the bucket of water and bandages. I lifted up his shirt as Fred cleaned the wound, a small indentation in his side. As Fred mopped up the large pool of blood, I wrapped the porous material of the bandage around his abdomen firmly. Not so loose that it would fall off, but not so tight that oxygen wouldn't be able to enter the wound. Blood of a crimson shade bled through the gauze. "Scarlet, he needs fluid. Will you go get him a bottle of water and something to eat? I'll keep him awake". I crept upstairs and into Diagon Alley. There, I was able to purchase a bottle of water and a spinach and pineapple smoothie which would help replenish his blood cells.

I soon, returned. "I'm back". "Will you watch him? I need to open up the shop. We can take shifts watching him". Fred scurried upstairs as soon as I agreed. George drifted in and out of consciousness. I'd lightly tap him on the shoulder, which had the same affect as if I'd screamed in his ear. "Scarlet. I'm so cold". George tugged on my shirt, which was caked with layers of dirt and blood. I lowered his hand next to his side. His hands were cold and clammy. Cold to the touch. Freezing. His pulse, weak. "Drink this". "I don't think I can drink anything. I'm too weak". George moaned. "Do you want me to mouth feed it to you?" I couldn't have had been more sarcastic. "Could you do that?" He seemed utterly serious. "No. Open up". Unscrewing the cap of the water bottle, I slowly poured it into his mouth. He held up his hand signaling for me to stop. Screwing the cap on, I placed the bottle aside. 

"I'm still cold". He complained. "There's a blanket in the corner, I can just go and grab that for you if you want". I suggested. He shook his head. He patted the spot beside him. I laid down next to him. Our fingers brushed across each other occasionally. His fingers still cold to the touch. George appeared rather short winded. He was panting. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Regardless of whether or not he was awake or not, I remained there. I dabbed the sweat off of his forehead. "Scarlet". He stirred next to me. "Do you need anything?" I asked him. It'd been an hour and a half since I had bandaged him up. He still appeared to be rather worn. His skin still just as pale and cold. "Scarlet, I-" He motioned for me to move closer. He whispered something not quite audible to the human ear. George spoke directly into my ear. "Scarlet. I just wanted you to know that-" He paused again, to pant once more. His heavy breathing tickled my ear. "That my invention is so much better". George smiled, before fading into unconsciousness once more.