I said..." the golden stranger spat, "KNEEEEL!" he roared, banging his stick on the ground and creating a huge blue flash. All around me, people froze in place, and started... kneeling? Even the ones that didn't speak English kneeled obediently. Why...
My hands hurt. Why did they hurt? I faded into the waking world reluctantly. Drowsiness clung to my still-half-asleep thoughts, urging me to catch a couple more minutes. I rolled my head to the side and yawned, stubbornly refusing to open my eyes. A sheen of sweat dampened my skin, and as a faint wisp of air lifted a lock of hair that draped over my face, I shivered. Cracking open my eyes, I reached for my worn blue comforter and noticed with detached emotion that there was no comforter to reach for. And this didn't feel like my bed, it felt like a chair. A rickety, splintery chair with no regards for people that just want to sleep. Annoyed, I finally cracked open my heavy eyes, and lifted my chin from my chest. Oh, I sleepily observed. I'm not in my bed.
Wait. What?
My eyes shot fully open, and my heart jumped in my chest as I remembered the events of the gala. That medieval Professor Snape kidnapped me! I thought indignantly as I fought back the horrible ball of cold fear in my chest. I looked around me, disoriented, and surmised that my sleep-muddled thoughts were true. I was not, in fact, lying in my bed.
I was in a small, windowless room with concrete walls and floor. I looked around the dimly lit room, straining to make out the features around me with my heart speeding up all the while. A single door made only of bars was set into the left corner of the wall I was facing. It was completely empty besides me, reminding me of a prison cell. The only light came through the barred door, presumably coming from a light source outside. I was situated in an old, wooden chair in the center of the stone room. My legs were tied to the chair's legs, my torso to its back. When I craned my neck, I could tell that the reason my wrists were sore was because they were tied behind my back. I yanked my hands against the ropes, attempting to free myself, but only succeeded in making the soreness worse. I began to hyperventilate. What's going on? Where did that witch take me? I struggled against the rough rope, working myself into a frenzy.
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Abruptly, I froze. An idea came to me, and I glanced around to confirm that there was nothing behind me before I began flinging my body forward and backward, attempting to tip the chair over. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. I've obviously seen way too many spy movies. The chair teetered on its two back legs before falling backward. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for impact.
Thud.
Wow, that was a terrible idea, I thought blearily.
Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps approaching from the hallway. Keys jangled in a lock, and I heard the door to my little room swing open with a creeeaaakk. I twisted my head until my neck hurt, trying to get a glimpse of the newcomer, but they picked me up before I could. They grabbed the chair by the knobs at the top of the back, and pulled it upright. I swiveled my head to look at them.
The newcomer was a man with unnatural electric-blue eyes that almost seemed to be glowing in the dim light. He had close-cropped brown hair and a face that seemed to be in a perpetual scowl. A fancy-looking bow was strapped to his back, and an equally fancy-looking quiver of arrows was slung over his shoulder. His face was expressionless, his freaky blue eyes scarily void of emotion.
