Author's Notes: Edited to synchronize the chapters with a bigger, better storyline. Don't worry, folks. I'm not abandoning The Passion of Hate and Love by posting this fic. It will be finished, even if I have to push myself!
Disclaimers: This is the only time I will say this so pay attention! I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER OR HOLD ANY RIGHTS TO IT. And know that what ever you recognize regarding song lyrics, they aren't my property unless by pure coincidence.
Castle of Dreams
Chapter 1: Voices of the
Dead Trying to Live
By Callisto Callispi
Dead whispers sighed the mournful song. "Can you hear them sing? Can you hear the children's song?"
The haunting choir of high-voiced innocents softened the deadly stillness of the cobweb-ridden banquet halls. The old paintings of the ladies and gentlemen who once attended these halls seemed to close their eyes in fond, wistful recollection.
"We are the music makers. We are the dreamer of dreams."
And the voices traveled up the forgotten stairs, not minding the patches of dried blood and wine stains on the dulled burgundy rug. The chipped banisters hummed along with the children, tentatively. The voices grew a slight bit louder, encouraged by the rhythmic creaking of the stairs.
"And we are born innocent. Borne of angels of the heavens... My deliverer is coming. My deliverer is coming by.
The voices swayed in harmony with the musty chandeliers. The diamond baubles tinkled quietly with the phantom breeze.
CREAK. CREAK. TINKLE. CREAK. CREAK. TINKLE.
"Cast away the shadow. Welcome the light of our Father. We wait, oh Lord. We wait..."
Voices echoed down the Hall of Horrors like a spectral vision. Amid the faded screams and the jaded moans, the children's voice grew strong. The tattered, soiled cream curtains oscillated gently like the white and brown wave of the stained ocean, inviting the innocents' light and purity. These halls had been sullied for far too long in this rotting darkness.
"Make me a witness, and take me out of out of darkness and doubt --"
But a great rumble from the shadows silenced the children. The curtains dropped from their dance with a heavy thump. The banisters grew silent. The chandeliers ceased their charming tinkling. What little bit of light that had eroded away the darkness was pushed back by a new landslide of shadows.
But the children would not give up that easily. They had been captive here for too long. Far too long. "Heaven holds a sense of wonder, and I want to --"
But they fell short of their words. That little aura of white purity, the last remaining whiteness in this damned castle shrieked. The deep rumble of an earthquake overwhelmed their small, trembling voices. And like a panther pouncing on its prey, the shadow reached out its hand and squelched the children's' voice within its black fingers.
Their soft screams filled the dusty air. The cry of small children slowly being choked to death. The draperies shivered, the stairs moaned quietly with pain, and the walls sighed with forlorn hope. Squeals, quiet sobs, cries for angels. The very castle trembled with their chiming, pained voices. But still, the shadow was relentless. And tighter and tighter it squeezed until what was left of the children's' voices was nothing but the fading tail of a distant shooting star. One last sparkle...and fizzpth. Out. Like a dead light bulb.
Deafening terror reigned the castle again. Terror...and silence.
-x-x-
Hermione bolted straight up in her bed, screaming. Nothing but darkness. Their crying voices echoed in her mind like a broken record. "He-he-he-ll- hell-hell-hell-ellp-elp u-u-u-u-u-u-s-s-s-s..." And in that same damned melody that same tune.
She screamed again as she something shoot out in front of her in the pitch-blackness of night. Hands. Oh, God. HANDS!
"Let me be, you wretched demon! Let me be!" Hermione shrieked in her bed, kicking the covers and flailing her hands wildly. The hands made their way up her face, to her mouth. Hermione screamed for help. Like the children. "Hell-hell-hell-hell-elp-elp u-u-u-u-s-s-s-s..."
"HERMIONE! Have you gone mad!"
Hermione froze. She knew that voice. "Lavndpher?" Hermione whispered against the girl's hand.
Golden light suddenly flooded the room. Hermione cringed at the unexpected brightness. Lavender Brown stood sat in front of Hermione, her usually tanned face white and her eyes wide. She was breathing heavily.
"Bloody hell, Hermione. What's the matter with you? You...you seemed like you were possessed or something."
Hermione stared around her room, puzzled yet anxious. She gripped her sheets so tightly that her knuckles were white. The hand in the darkness. Lavender's hand. She attempted to calm her breathing, but it did not work. That dream. It was so real!
"I...I had a dream. A horrible dream," Hermione stuttered quietly. Lavender fell back on the bed, her hands to her chest.
"You scared the living shit out of me, Hermione. Did you know that? Screaming like the bloody ghost of Christmas past was chasing after you or something. My God. There goes my beauty sleep."
Hermione blinked. She remembered where she was now, and why she wasn't in her usual room at Hogwarts.
"I knew Romania would be like this. Especially after that last castle we visited. Remember that haunted one? Bloody damn. If that place isn't possessed, I don't know what is."
Ah. This was her field trip for her NEWT class in Theory of Haunts and Spooks.
Lavender propped herself up on her elbows and stared curiously at Hermione. Hermione managed a weak smile. "I'm sorry, Lavender. I...I was just delusional for a moment there...you know. Caught up in the fog of that...nightmare."
Lavender's forehead creased. "Lucky these hotel walls are so thick. Otherwise, the professors would have been up here by now."
Hermione nodded shakily. "You're not sleepy?"
Lavender shook her head. "Not after all that. And besides, it's five-thirty. Two hours earlier than our usual wake-up time, but oh well. We'll just be the first one down to breakfast, won't we?"
Hermione responded with a nod once more, trying to control her trembling hands. Oh, those children. Those bodiless phantom children.
"Hermione..."
She looked up.
"What was your dream about?"
Hermione's eyes widened. For a moment, she thought she saw something dancing in the shadow. Like a specter of a ballerina... Her breath quickened. Was she going mad?
"Hermione?"
"Nothing," she replied quickly. And the dancer danced away into oblivion. Nothing. "It was something stupid really. You know. Monsters in the dark. Chasing after...me. It's...it's just like any ordinary...nightmare."
Lavender stared at Hermione skeptically for a few seconds. Then she shrugged and got off the bed. "Whatever you say, Hermione. Well, I'd better freshen up. Come on. We've got to look our best."
Hermione slid out from under her covers and asked suspiciously, "Why?"
Lavender grinned. "Oh. Didn't you hear? Draco Malfoy is in Hottsgobin Tower with us, which means that Professor Jethro will be there too."
Ah, the famous Professor Jethro.
Hermione snorted, squeezing toothpaste onto her toothbrush. "Take care with him, Lavender. He's a professor."
Lavender smirked. "You know me."
Hermione eyed her friend warily. "That's what I mean."
Lavender laughed in return and turned away. "Oh, don't worry your silly little head over me, Hermione. Anyway, you'll be occupied enough with Malfoy on your tail during the session. He's angry, you know. After you got a higher grade than him on that test."
As soon as Lavender walked out, Hermione shook her head and resumed brushing her teeth. Malicious Draco Malfoy trying to shove me into a dark basement, Hermione mused, wondering how he would make her life miserable this time around. So what's new. Ever since last year, Malfoy had been even more annoying than ever, taking up an almost comical obsession over studying that countered Hermione's own fanaticism over grades.
Since then, Hermione's life had been an almost unbearable bundle of stress. As if she hadn't had enough to worry over, such as the rise(s) of the Dark Lord, frequent attempts on Harry's life, balancing NEWT classes, and other situations, she now had to maintain perfect grades in face of competition, from the person she hated most, no less!
But Hermione had not let her grades slip once and always just bested Malfoy on practically everything.
But still, it was difficult. If only he would just...disappear. My, wouldn't it be wonderful if Draco Malfoy were trapped in the attic and was never able to get out? Hermione's thoughts had become malicious ones as of late, and though it disturbed her greatly, her anger seemed more than justified when it came to Draco Malfoy.
But she was worried. She wedged the toothbrush into her mouth. Such ugly thoughts. Such ugly desires.
The villagers had a saying here: what you think you become.
Such ugliness brewing beneath her innocent, doe-eyed face. She sometimes dreamt that her face was nothing but a mask. Hermione shoved the toothbrush bristles harder and harder against her gums. The dreams scared her sometimes. Hands always shot toward her, pulling at her skin, and Hermione would scream and scream until her voice turned raw and suddenly, a high-pitched scream, a monster's scream, would shatter the glass floor beneath her. Pink foamed her mouth as her gums broke against the toothbrush and started to bleed. It dribbled down her chin. She would flap her arms, trying to fly, but she always fell into the dark oblivion, that monster's cry (her cry) rang in her ears. The hands still reached for her face, tearing off her skin inch by inch until nothing but a burning pain remained. She caught her reflection in the pieces of shattered glass, and the face of a bat with large, green glowing eyes stared back at her, laughing and laughing as she screamed and fell into the dark place, and one day, Hermione knew, she would fall so deep that she would never be able to return...
Hermione gasp and spit the toothpaste foam out of her mouth, groaning slightly and massaging her swollen gums with her tongue. What was getting into her these days?
That bat in the glass, face so hideous and a nose like a pig's snout but yet so strangely human...
Hermione looked up in the mirror. Her eyes widened and she dropped her toothbrush into the marble sink.
CLATTER.
CREAK. CREAK. TINKLE. CREAK. CREAK. TINKLE...
"Oh my... what?"
Hermione whipped around, the white skirt of her nightgown billowing out like a phantom fog. Nothing. Nothing but the bathtub and the toilet.
Hesitantly, she picked up her toothbrush again, staring suspiciously into the mirror.
"Hell-hell-hell-hell-elp-elp-lp..."
It was strange...
Hermione could have sworn she saw a child's face looming in the mirror only a moment ago...
But with a flap of leathery wings, it had disappeared and left Hermione staring into her own horrified reflection.
End Notes: Erm. Satanic. Strange. I'm a twisted piece of work. And this is only the beginning folks! More Draco and Hermione content in the next chapter...when they both get thrown into the realm of the castle of dreams! Muahahahaha!