Chapter Twenty-Six
"Fink"

Page One

McGonagall felt a strange sensation as she slowly moved her left leg. Her knees were to her chest as she lay on her side. As she moved her left leg, she felt something she'd never felt before inside her head. It wasn't really pain, not a sharp headache, but not dull either. It was an inexplicable oddity, foreign and unclassified.

She began shifting her body, but this practice was put to a stop when she felt a surge of pain in her right shoulder that spread down her spine until it finally rested in her left ankle. The pain jolted her eyes open, but all she could see was white. She tried to stretch out, but didn't even get a chance to straighten out her knees before her feet hit something cold and solid. She tried to sit up but was met with a searing pain in her back. She fought it and sat up anyway, rubbing her head. Upon sitting up, she realized that before, when she had seen white, her eyes weren't playing tricks on her after all; she was sitting in a white room. It was no larger then five feet long by four feet wide. It strongly reminded her of a shower stall. Thoughts began racing through her head. Last thing she knew she was looking up at Remus Lupin… he looked frightened and worried. Before that, something big had happened, but she couldn't remember what.

Her eyes darted upwards as she began to panic. A plain white ceiling was about ten feet above her. Her thoughts started becoming more and more disheveled as they formed a bit of a thirty-thought pile-up on her mental motorway. She shook her head as she tried to stand up. Her legs ached again and that surge of pain in her left ankle came back in full force. She winced as she put all her weight on her feet again.

Looking about the room it seemed as if it were entirely sealed off. Her brain moved at rapid-fire speed as she tried to think about how she could have even gotten in this small box. She let her hands roam around the walls, feeling for some kind of hidden door, some breach in the wall that could possibly be a means of escape.

As she reached the end of the fourth and final wall, she was becoming increasingly frantic. Just as she really started to think she had gone entirely insane, a strange sound echoed around the small chamber. It was almost as if she were inside a large clock and its gears were shifting, the noises of metal clunking into place resounded throughout the small box of a room. She cocked her head upwards, trying to locate where the sound was coming from. It was above her, she thought. It seemed as if the sound were outside but loud enough to penetrate the surrounding walls.

The sounds of shifting gears and cogs continued for a few moments, getting louder with every clunking sound, until finally, they stopped abruptly. McGonagall started pacing the small box, randomly pressing against nondescript parts of the walls, hoping to find some secret button, or some latch to a hidden door. This search quickly proved to be of no use. She was trapped with no way out.

Starting to sense the defenseless position she was in, she slammed her fists against the wall and sat back down on the cold floor, looking up at the ceiling. The second she touched the floor she heard another sound echo through the walls. Someone was whispering something to her, but it was barely audible. She quickly put her ear against the wall, straining to hear the whisperings. They gradually became louder and she could tell it was something in Latin.

"Quia sic longus ego habere aspettare,"

Her mind began racing trying to make out what was being said. She started talking out loud to herself, trying to discern the words.

"Quia sic longus… for so long…" it seemed as if all her memories of her childhood Latin lessons were slipping from her mind. "Ego habere aspettare…" Her musings were cut short as something else was whispered. She pressed her ear to the wall again and heard, "Ego voluntas aspettare non longus."

These two phrases continued to be repeated, gradually getting louder to the point where it sounded as if whoever was speaking was standing inside the room. She sat with her back against one of the far walls trying desperately to translate it all.

The Latin grew louder once more to where it was so loud it drowned out McGonagall's thoughts. She racked her brain, concentrating to the point of straining herself. She rubbed her head until it hurt even more. She finally gave up, slamming her fists against the wall to her right. She raised her head and shouted, "Who are you?"

The person who had been repeating that same phrase so tauntingly ceased and the room fell silent.

McGonagall stood up immediately and paced to the other side of her cell. She began pressing against the walls again, half-knowing it was pointless. Panic settled in as she went on this useless quest for a way out… then it started again; someone was whispering again. She pressed her ear quickly to the wall once more, but this time, no one was talking, someone was laughing. She pulled her ear away from the wall and looked at the whiteness around her with complete disgust.

"Who are you?" she repeated as threateningly as she possibly could. "What do you want with me?"

The laughing did not stop. Instead, the same sounds of shifting gears and cogs returned with a vengeance. It was so loud she had to clasp her hands over her ears immediately. Unable to withstand it any longer, the sound bearing down on her from all sides, her knees gave way beneath her and she slumped to the floor, a tear gliding down her cheek.

* * *

"Something strange is going on," whispered Ron as he, Harry and Hermione stood in a corner of the Great Hall, watching all the other students bombard Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey with one worried question after another.

"Did we ever figure out what was so funny?" asked Harry. "What was all that laughing about?"

Ron shook his head slowly from side to side. "I don't know," he turned to Hermione and saw that she was rocking back and forth on her heels, a finger pressed to her lips, deep in concentration.

"You haven't said much," acknowledged Ron, poking Hermione on the shoulder with his right index finger. "What's up with you?"

Hermione looked up at him with bloodshot eyes and said, "I don't like what happened…" her voice trailed off and she began rocking again. "What was written on the board…nope, not good, not good at all."

Harry and Ron looked at each other with a concerned look cast across both their faces. Harry turned to Hermione and looked her in the eye.

"What was it that was written on the board?"

Hermione stopped rocking immediately and started shaking her head. "You don't want to know," she whispered.

"Harry," boomed Hagrid, interrupting their conversation as he walked over to them. However, just as he was approaching them, Professor Ceres walked in the door. Hagrid watched her carefully as she walked over to Madam Pomfrey and began talking avidly with her in a hushed manner. After he was satisfied that they were out of earshot, he turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione and started whispering, "Harry, wha' happened in that classroom? These kids are tellin' me all sorts o' stuff and I don' know who ter believe."

"What did they tell you?" asked Harry calmly.

"Some strange story 'bout how they all started laughin', didn' know why," explained Hagrid skeptically. "Then Snape got all mad an' started yellin' at em while some chalk started floatin' and it wrote gibberish up on the chalkboard."

"It wasn't gibberish," whispered Hermione, still tottering back and forth on her heels, staring down at the floor.

"What?" whispered Harry, Ron and Hagrid at once.

"It wasn't gibberish," repeated Hermione casting her gaze up at them. "It was Latin."

"What did it mean?" asked Hagrid solemnly.

Hermione only responded by looking back down at the floor and continuing to teeter on her heels.

Hagrid grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her gently to make her look up. He looked her square in the eye and muttered sternly, "What did it mean?"

"You don't want to know!" whispered Hermione fiercely.

Hagrid raised his voice slightly and said, "Tell me now."

Hermione returned his stern look and uttered, "It meant, 'Tonight your last words will be your own death sentence. Revenge will be mine, when you will all die by my hand.' Happy now?"

Hagrid let go of Hermione's shoulders and stepped back, shaking his shaggy head. He only stopped when he bumped into someone.

"Oh, excuse me," it was Professor Ceres. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

Hagrid turned around, shocked and said, "S'alright, just don' say anyfing."

"No, no," whispered Ceres. "Don't worry about that, we wouldn't want to alarm the children. However, Harry," she turned to Harry and looked him in the eye, a motherly look to her face. "I think we need to alert Sirius and Remus. Madam Pomfrey told me that Professor Snape went off looking for Professor McGonagall and I'm afraid we're going to need a few more… helping hands around here."

Harry looked up at Hagrid who replied, "Sounds like a good idea ter me."

"Good," said Professor Ceres, adjusting herself to an upright position once more. "I'll go with you if you like, Harry. Hagrid, why don't you, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley stay here? I'm sure Harry and I can move faster if it's just the two of us."

"Alright," whispered Hagrid. "But you'd better get going, the sooner Sirius and Remus get 'ere the better."

Ceres nodded then put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come along, Harry."

They walked out of the Great Hall as nonchalantly as possible, not wanting to alarm any of the students. As soon as they had entered the entry hall, Ceres started jogging and telling Harry, "I think it best we go to the owlery first and send a note to them with instructions to meet us somewhere, somewhere a bit secluded so their arrival isn't out in the open."

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