the last verse ; harry potter [2]

four ; the fallen warrior

It was dark, and someone was screaming in agony.

The walls, an eerie green, illuminated only by the soft lamplight, were cracked and peeling from age.

No windows. One stone door on the right-hand wall, many inches thick and just tall enough to duck underneath.

Screaming. Crying.

"Thomas!"

Yelled, so forceful and strong that the walls shook. It was hinted with the gritted sound of pain, the voice of someone in an unimaginable hell.

"You have to go!"

Parseltongue, it sounded like, judging by the sharp hissing behind the words. This pained woman was a Parselmouth.

"I'm not leaving you!"

Male, deep. Through the dim glow, his eyes were were the color of blood, turned to slits, like a snake. His face, though, was handsome and his hair was dark, slight stubble shadowing his jaw. He didn't look like that very often. Most of the time, he resembled more of a snake than a human. Around the woman, though, his face always changed to one that could be considered normal.

They had been there for awhile. His stubble, her matted hair as she lied on the small cot, screaming, her eyes screwed shut.

This was not a normal room. It was more of a bunker, with thick stone and no windows, dark and cold under layers of earth.

"GO!" she screamed, grabbing him forcefully by his arm, pushing him out of his perch beside her.

He hesitated, watching her cry and writhe in pain.

"I'll be as quick as I can," he whispered finally, taking her hand. "I'll be back. I'll only be just a few hours, and I'll have what you need."

With one parting look, he hurried out of the stone door, heaving it shut behind him, leaving her to scream alone.

Scraping.

The door was being forced open.

The only thing visible of the intruder was the light skin of their hand and a pair of blue eyes that were so painfully familiar.

And then, darkness.

Once, when Diana was thirteen years old, she found a secret hall in the hospital. It was in the Head Nurse's office, blocked by a hefty bookcase and sealed from sight, unknown to everyone except for the high executives.

She had a knack for sneaking around. She broke into the office once, late in the evening when the others were eating dinner. She always loved books, more specifically the ones in the Head's office.

She remembered pulling one out, opening the cover. Next thing she knew, there was no bookcase anymore: there was merely a rectangular hole in the wall where it had been, leading into a dark and damp hall that was the complete opposite of the rest of the sterile white hospital.

The damp, stone floor soaked her socks, seeping into her feet and giving her goosebumps. She followed the hall to a wooden door, opening it with hesitancy, and being met only with an empty, dark room, the only light coming from the small, round window to the outside.

She opened the window, and she fell. She told the nurses it was an accident, that she was merely exploring and she lost her balance. She though, knew otherwise: this was no accident. She could tip-toe through a room littered with laser detectors if she pleased; there was no way she could've slipped.