Chapter Twenty-Seven
"Dementia"

Page One

Anxiety was felt throughout those congregated in the Great Hall. Not a soul in the assembly felt at ease. The students that had attended that fateful Defense Against the Dark Arts class sat in a tight circle in the center of the room, looking down at the floor, silently contemplating what had happened.

Ron and Hermione were standing in a corner next to the doors, talking to Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey.

"I don' like this," muttered Hagrid, fidgeting slightly as the room became suddenly bright for a moment as lightning flashed across the sky and a mighty clash of thunder echoed around the room. "There's just an uneasy air 'bout the place… it can't be good."

Thunder resounded through the room as another bolt of lightning struck between two clouds in the heavens. The thunderstorms were gradually becoming more dangerous. It seemed that the duration between two lightning strikes was growing shorter and shorter with each flash across the sky.

Just then, the doors flew open, catching everyone by surprise. Professor Malfoy had just walked in and was headed straight for Hagrid. He raised his finger and said, "I have reason to believe this school is under attack. We need to get all the students to one central location so we can keep them safe."

Hagrid stared blankly back at him. This manifestation of power and authority was rather unnerving. Malfoy continued as if he hadn't noticed.

"Let's bring all the students, every house, right here. It's the largest room in the castle. That way we can keep an eye on everyone. Let's get moving."

"How're we gonna do that?" asked Hagrid, coming to his senses.

"We'll alert the teachers," said Malfoy as if Hagrid were an idiotic two-year-old. "Everyone should still be in their classes, we'll just send a message through the floo."

Hagrid nodded his head and said, "I'll get righ' on it."

"Good," said Malfoy, breathing heavily through his nose. "I'll come with you to write the message."

Hagrid and Malfoy walked back through the doors into the entry hall, shutting the door behind them with a snap.

Ron, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey stood in that corner, all of them shaking their head in disapproval. Finally, Hermione voiced their thoughts.

"This is taking too long," she said quietly. "We should be looking for the others, they shouldn't have been gone this long."

"I think you're right," whispered Madam Pomfrey, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "But, Professor Malfoy seems to know what he's doing. If we started a search party, we'd be separated and that could be dangerous. All we can do is wait, no matter how much we hate it."

* * *

"Quia sic longus ego habere aspettare," McGonagall was sitting on the cold white floor, leaning back against one of the far walls, repeating those strange Latin phrases to herself, trying to figure them out. "For so long… ego habere aspettare… For so long I have waited…" she scratched her head and moved on to the next sentence. "Ego voluntas aspettare non longus… that's easy… I will wait no longer… I got it!" She stood up abruptly and started pacing the small room, repeating these two lines to herself, making sure she had translated them correctly.

"For so long, I have waited… I will wait no longer. I must be right!" Back and forth, back and forth, pacing the cell, forcing her brain to function properly. After lapping the room at least a dozen times she stopped right in the middle of the cell: she thought she heard something. She put her ear to the wall again and could hear that same cold laugh she had heard before. She slammed her hands so hard against the wall it hurt and she screamed at the top of her lungs, "What do you want with me?"

She put her ear against the wall again to listen for any sort of reply, Latin or English she didn't care. But there was nothing.

"Whatever you want, you'll never get it!" she shouted, banging repeatedly on the wall. "I will NOT be held like this, is that clear? Are you LISTENING to me?"

She put her forehead to the wall, her hand aching from punching the wall so much. Nothing was heard, not even a cold, maniacal laugh. Just as she was starting to lose hope, she heard someone say something.

"I'm listening," whispered a voice as clear as day. It sounded as if someone was standing right on the other side of the wall.

"Where are you?" said McGonagall, her nose not even an inch away from the wall in front of her.

"I'm right here," replied the voice. It was emotionless and cold, but clear as it spoke to her.

"Can you get me out of here?" she asked.

"Hmm," cooed the voice. "I suppose I could… but not now."

"What?" McGonagall was befuddled; she'd thought she'd found a friend.

"I like seeing you in there," replied the voice in a taunting manner. "All frustrated… you remind me of your mother… always fighting with me… glorious fighting."

"Shut up!" shouted McGonagall. "Are you insane?"

"Insane?" laughed the voice. "Hardly! But if you want to know what insane is, my dear, I'm sure I could help with that."

McGonagall's face went blank as she heard someone else whisper to her. She ran around the room trying to figure out where the whispering was coming from, until she made a startling realization; the voices were inside her head.

"You've failed," they said. McGonagall blinked hard and rubbed her scalp. "You have to give in, you know what you have to do…" She was positive she was having a dream. This was all a bad dream. She'd wake up in a little while in her soft bed and everything would be okay. No one was whispering psychotic things to her through white walls; her brain wasn't sending her strange messages. She was asleep, that was all there was to it… and yet, the voices continued.

"You were born for this, you know that," the voices were becoming faster, almost too fast to understand. "You'll fail if you don't… You always knew how to mess things up… You got bad marks on your last test, didn't you? I knew you would, you worthless girl…"

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