Audrey's Secret

The Last Day

I pull my trunk next to the end of the bunk along with Jared's small cage. I hadn't seen him in a while. He must be with a friend or finding something to eat. For ten months?! My conscience shouted. I silently agree with it. I told Harry, Hermione, and Ron all about the sister thing and about how my ancestors are crazy wicked wizards with powers that come out of my finger tips or whatever. Hermione hadn't read about any wizards with that kind of magic and it's been driving her crazy all day. Dumbledore told me to make sure everything was packed before lunch. I have to been on the train by eight tonight. Sighing heavily, I pull out my charms book and set it on the night stand. "Audrey! Lunch!" A Gryffindor girl calls into the dormitory, probably a prefect. 

I open the doors. There's no one here yet and there is no lunch. Confused and hungry, I walk back to the common room. "Hello? Anyone here?"

All I hear is...well...nothing. When you look at a fire, isn't it supposed to be burning? It's frozen in place, its orange flames burning...stopped. "Harry?!"

I scream through the halls. My heart beating so hard against my chest so hard it hurt to breathe. I went into my classes looking for anyone. I go into my charms classroom, where Harry was supposed to meet me. He's there sitting on the stool next to Ron smiling. Frozen. I walk up to them. I poked Ron's cheek. "Ron? Harry?" They're expressions stuck in a smile as they play with a paper football. "Harry, stop playing around!" I say smacking his shoulder. No response. "Please don't do this to me! Harry? Ron?"

This is wrong. Very wrong. Tom must have done this. Made my friends statues. Why didn't he freeze me?

I run down the corridor and unlock the doors to the cold air trickling at the back of my neck and down my arms. There were frozen people in the stands, Hermione is one of them. "What am I going to do?" I whisper myself. Then an image appears in my head. The cave, Draco, Tom. Tom. He must have something to do with time stopping.

I jumped into the boat, creating waves that randomly speckle my robes and my legs. I row to the other island and hurry out iof the boat. "Let's see, did he do any tapping?" Tapping, like on the wall with my wand. I tapped the wall a few times and it opened into a damp and wet rocky stair way. I gently take two steps in and the stair plumet into a rocky slide as I fall, head first downwards, the wall shutting behind me. "Gosh dang it, Tom." I mumble. I hear a piercing scream and my chest tightens with fear. That's Draco's scream.

I walk silnetly to the noise that had shouted out oh so loudly. I turn into a hallway, torches lighting my path as I reach a set of doors in a circular opening. I chose the left after a long game of enie minie moe. I peer through the bars that call as a window and see Draco, partially clothed and flooded with his own blood from his nose and his eye. It stinks, really bad. He's chained up to the wall, Voldemort must have whipped him cold, the blood is fresh. I hear him breathing shallowly. I whisper Alhomara with my wand the door unlocks loudly and I flinch. I stay still for a few seconds after not hearing angry foot steps. I open the door. "Draco?"

He mumbles a reply I couldn't catch but I fly over to him anyways. I hold his face in between my hands, slapping them gently. "Stay with me, don't leave." His eyes continue to stay closed. "Draco, c'mon. It's ok. I need your help."

I whisper looking behind my shoulder every now and then. I unlatch him form the wall, from the chains, and into my arms. I tear my robe to make five strips of cloth to stop the bleeding from his eye, two on his leg, and two for his arms. He gasp out in pain, his hand grabbing onto my hand that was wrapping the cloth around his eye. "Stop."

"Did Tom do this to you? Oh, excuse me. Did Voldemort do this to you?" He doesn't deserve to be called the sweet Tom I used to know. Draco stood using the wall instead of perfectly capable me who patched him up. He was still breathing shallow and I wished I could do more instead of watching him. "You...made this." He says pointing to me.