Boom, boom. Boom, boom.

His eerie heart beat vibrated out of him and through the dark corridor, dancing through the narrow darkness and echoing back to him in whispers of fear. Draco could’ve sworn that he heard the drumming of his heart repeating, “Don’t, don’t. Don’t, don’t.�

He swallowed hard and moved forward, each step pounding on the marble floor. His wand light was the only companion he had, aside from the snickering blackness and echoing clattering of his shoes, and his increasing fear. The hallway he was in seemed to go on for an eternity; he could’ve sworn he’d marched the same path for an hour. He was beginning to lose hope in ever finding a way out of the strange location called the Department of Mysteries.

They weren’t kidding when they named it, he thought, trying to stay optimistic by putting down everything around him; the normal plan. He craved normality and familiarity in this cold and strange place; ironically, he had been seeing the same scenery fogging his eyes for the past hour, though it wasn’t ‘normal’ to him. He strived for his bed, his silver and green bed, his Malfoy manor and his mother by his side. That was familiar, not this – the sneering darkness and unending walkway. He took a step further with the sole hope of reaching an exit.

His breathing became slower, his hand lower in the air, as he became more and more tired. Hope was seeping out of him, into the cracks of the cement walls and floor enclosing him, and he risked closing his eyes to take a calming breath. For the first time, he walked without looking, entrusting the darkness with his fate. And, unfortunately, it was the wrong time to put his guard down. His pale body made swift contact with the metal door, slapping him into reality and smacking some relief into him. Relief swirled with the smokey horrors of doubt and fear. Was this door going to help him, or would it be the death of him? He didn’t know, but the fatigue kicked in, and he had to keep going.

He took a deep breath, reached around with his free hand for a knob, and grunted out in frustration when he found none. He kicked the door with his leg, pulling full impact into the only thing possibly separating him from freedom, and felt a falling feeling as he slipped through the door.

His face made contact with the cold floor, and he cautiously got up, as if in a daze. Doors don’t normally give way like that, he thought, turning around and placing a solitary hand on the middle of the door. Like magic, it was full metal again; completely unmoving. Confusion pulled at his mind, but he whisked it away. He needed to keep going.

As he turned around, he was once again greeted coldly with utter darkness. Fantastic, he thought, disappointment brewing deeply within him. This definitely isn’t an exit, he concluded, wondering if he was just edging deeper and deeper into the maze of epic proportions.

He pulled his wand and parted his lips to utter the Lumos spell, and was about to vocalize the incantation when the room began spinning. He ducked his head between his arms and held his breath while speed gathered. Gravity increased its pressure and pulled him against the wall, smashing him headfirst into unconsciousness. He called out in pain before the darkness blanketed him, and the darkness danced with the spinning of the air.

***

He cracked one eye open and grunted in pain as he tried to move any limb. He blinked his eyes repeatedly, trying to focus on the surroundings. After he realized his surroundings were darkness and confusion, he reached around for his wand and muttered, “Lumos!� He nearly fainted again, swallowing hard and speculating the scene before him. Above me, really, he thought, staring above his head in dismay. What the hell happened?

He forced his neck as far back as he could, his eyes roaming the rows of benches placed above his head; just like the benches in the courtroom, he thought, wondering why he seemed to be on the ceiling, as opposed to the comfy ground. His eyes scanned further, finally locking on what he interpreted to be the outline of a door. He groaned. It was all the way on the other side of the room, much less above his head. He was sitting on the ceiling, all chances of escape many feet below him.

He was about to try and lift himself when he wondered what would happen if he did stand up and take a step. Would he fall off, crashing into the wooden benches? Would he continue to walk on the ceiling, somehow sticking without meaning to or knowing how? You can’t just sit here all day, his mind angrily shoved into his conscious, trying to shove him into motion. Draco snarled and forced himself up, aching and throbbing the entire time. Once he (shakily) stood on his own two (weak) feet, he sneered at the room, as if challenging it, daring it to cause him to fall. He gripped his wand tightly, his knuckles chameleon-ly changing from white to blue, and drew in a quick breath. He closed his eyes and picked up his leg, wincing and afraid of what would happen. He cracked open one eye and scrambled it around; he didn’t feel like he was falling. He didn’t feel like he was dying – scratch that, he thought, recalling the drumbeat of pain strumming through his body. But, he thought, trying to create a point, I’m not falling to my death. He gave himself a satisfied smirk and placed his foot down a few feet in front of him. He slowly picked up his other foot, and repeated the action. Two steps; he was on his way to greatness.

Cautious step by cautious step, be made his way to the further side of the wall. Now all he had to do was get to the door – the door that was above his head. He attempted to pick his leg up and place it on the wall, causing pain to vibrate through him due to the odd angle. No, that’s not going to work, he mentally stated obviously, deciding to sit on the floor – ceiling, he reminded himself – and work his way from there. Slowly, he crawled, like an infant, until his entire body was actually on what used to be the wall. He smiled triumphantly, brushing himself off as he stood on the wall. He allowed himself a deep breath before he heard a clicking sound and whatever adhesive powers he previously held gave way. Milliseconds whipped by his face before he realized he was free falling, sure to hit the ground in mere seconds. Acting lightning-fast, he grabbed his wand and quickly flipped through his mind for a helpful spell.

“Mollisio!� he yelled, his voice falling into the wind. Draco shut his eyes and expected the worse. He cringed, and waited, and waited.

But death didn’t come. He opened his eyes and felt around him, feeling soft pillows beneath his body. He released a long breath, relaxing his too tense shoulders. He pulled himself up and felt around for his wand. Hope filled his body when he found it unbroken, thinking for the briefest of seconds that maybe - just maybe - he could get out of there alive.

He raised himself and brushed his clothing off. Draco braced himself, gnarling his teeth and oozing off power as he reached for the door handle.

The door creaked open slowly, and Draco could hear a quiet rattling on the other side. Puzzled, he swung the door open fully and drew his wand. The door shut behind him with a bang and he peered through the darkness, with the aid of his wand light, at what seemed to be a stone wall directly in front of him. His eyebrows fell into a frown, confusion apparent on his features. He slowly walked towards it, hearing the distant rattling grow louder, now accompanied by a growling sound that caused fear to tornado through him for a moment. He swallowed hard, attempting to stop his raised hand from shivering. He diminished his wand light.

With each step, the growling grew fiercer. With each deep breath, the rattling of metal echoed louder. Finally, Draco reached where a door would’ve been – a black rectangle in the stone wall, which was completely black. Draco felt cool air waver through the opening, and he ground his teeth and walked in. Cold seeped through his tattered clothing, and he was greeted by darkness. He rattling sound was directly next to him now, and the growling seemed to hiss in and out of him harshly.

He stretched his eyes, afraid that if he relit his wand, whatever creature that could possibly be in the room would be startled, therefore attack him. He heard heavy breathing beside him, and turned. Fearfully, his eyes met piercing green ones. They were cat-like and large, though a few feet beneath his line of vision. He sneered at the creature, thinking it was something smaller and weak. He drew his wand and lit it, still sneering when the animal growled at his movement. He scoffed, rolling his eyes and pointed his wand to the animal. The smirk slipped off his face when he realized what the creature actually was. A panther. He didn’t know much about them, aside from that they were one of the animals that one could transfigure in to. And that they were strong. Very strong.

He gulped down the bitter taste in his mouth and whispered a quiet greeting.
“Hello, kitty,� he said, inching farther away from the feline. He watched in horror as the panther followed him, crawling within the limits of the chain it was attached to. Quick thinking allowed Draco to realize that the chain was connected to either wall of the stone enclosure, right next to both the entrance and exit. The cat advanced closer to him, and Draco felt his blood pause when it bared its teeth. Sharp points glared at him as the panther’s growl grew louder and louder. By the pound in its walk, and the gleam in its eye, Draco could tell that this animal found him as an enemy; Draco didn’t want to stay around to see what it did to its enemies.

“Nice kitty, good kitty,� Draco murmured, trying to take steps away from the panther. Its lean legs allowed it to keep up with Draco, obviously angered by his attempts at an escape. The panther growled once more, and shifted its weight. Draco had mere milliseconds before the animal lunged at him. He grabbed his wand and uttered the first thing that he could.

“Stupefy!� he yelled, dropping into a full run away from the creature. He had underestimated the size of the room, and saw with disdain that the exit was probably over 20 feet away. The beast appeared stunned for a moment, but quickly shook it off and ran even faster than Draco’s feet could. Draco skidded to a halt when he realized the animal was already in front of him. Damn, he thought, unsure of what to do. He racked his brain for a possible spell, finding none other than the killing curse that would completely stop this animal. And he knew he couldn’t muster the killing curse. His fearful breath hitched in his throat as the chains began rattling again, signifying movement. He yelled the Banishing charm he learned once in Charms class, and was relieved when he saw the black fiend go flying backwards, only to be brought back to the ground by the chain.

A low growl emitted from the darkness, and Draco realized he has angered the creature even more. He quickly yelled the Confundus spell and saw the creature appear unharmed. He broke out in a run when he saw slight hesitation from the animal. Cool air whipped past his face as he heard the distant sound of the chains following him. With lightning fast speed, he snapped his neck backwards and saw that the panther was trying to run after him, but was evidently having trouble. It stumbled over its own feet, and appeared to be confused to its surroundings. Draco let out a small sigh of relief, but continued to run through the exit, into the darkness.

A swift current of air danced through the room Draco entered. It swirled around him and tickled his senses. He felt the entrancingly cool air against his cheeks, his arms, his chest, and felt out of himself. His mind followed the air as it swirled in the darkness, twirling in happiness; it was a large contrast to the darkness and otherwise still eeriness that hung in the room. Draco closed his eyes, losing himself in the refreshing, crisp feeling surrounding him. Suddenly, he felt the air vanish and felt hollow within. He opened his eyes hastily and his mouth wrenched open in shock. Oh, Merlin, what is happening now?

Draco helplessly looked down from his floating by the ceiling viewpoint; his body was on the floor, and he was floating around. Draco curled his fists in concentration and tried to put together the pieces of what had happened to him. Body... I’m out of my body… out of body… Out of body experience! His mind nearly yelled at him, as he came upon the harsh realization that some sort of charm had separated him from his body. He concluded that it was probably something in the air current that distracted him earlier. Draco racked his brain for the spell he had learned to end the charm cast on him, but he couldn’t remember it. He angrily furrowed his eyebrows and let his instinct take over. Alright. I’m out of my body, I need to get back into my body. What if…?

Suddenly, a crazy gleam got hitched into Draco’s eyes as he stared as his body with triumph. Attempting to gather speed as he floated around the room, he pointed downwards with his floating body, towards his normal body. Seconds ticked by as he grew closer and closer to his body, hope gaining within him, pride shining in his eyes. He was there, right there, about to touch –

BAM.

Draco’s face fell into full contact with an invisible barrier, causing him to rebound backwards in pain. A ripple of some sort seemed to wave through the air, signaling to Draco where in fact the barrier was. He grunted in anger, cursing the invisible barrier while clutching onto his nose. He picked up his wand and muttered a healing spell, satisfied when the blood stopped pouring. He straightened himself out, floating with his head held high, and began to look around. He floated towards the walls and the ceiling, trying to think of a way to join his body to his floating self. He angrily muttered charms he’d learned in class, hoping that one would spark the correct one.

He stared intently at the wall, though his eyes saw nothing in the darkness of the ceiling. He put his palm to the wall and rubbed it slightly, surprised to feel markings on the wall. He ran a solitary finger over a straight line, then a curved one, then another straight, and a dot. He muttered the Lumos spell and peered through his curiosity at the writings on the cement. He floated backwards slightly to be able to read all of the letters.

S… p… a… n… i… s… h… Spanish? What does ‘Spanish’ have to do with anything? He sighed in frustration and floated downwards, aiming his wand still at the wall. New letters came into view. B… o… d… y… Spanish body? Body in Spanish?

He pondered over that for a few seconds before it hit him. Cuerpisimo. The root word of the spell was the Spanish word for ‘body’. He smirked in triumph and pulled out his wand, yelling, “Cuerpisimo!�

Draco suddenly felt the crisp, cool air from before return, and pull him from his floating state to his body. He felt like a puzzle being placed together. His bones and organs aligned, and he felt good as new. He smirked and tested out his legs, making sure he could walk. When he decided he could, he set off at a full out run towards the door. A white light was pouring in through the door’s cracks, and he felt warmth through the door handle as his hand came to rest on it. He twisted the door handle, and felt the white light blind him, causing him to close his eyes and shrink away. A smell of tea wafted through his nose and suddenly he heard his name, far off in the distance.

“Draco!� the airy voice said, growing closer and louder. “Draco!� Again, it called out, and Draco fell away. He didn’t know who was calling him, but he didn’t want to meet them. He felt a shaking sensation in his shoulders and the voice became loud as ever. “Draco!� the feminine voice yelled, directly in his ear. He screamed in fear as the white light completely surrounded him, the tea nauseated him, and the voice screamed within his ears, vibrating, vibrating him till no end…

CRASH.

“Honestly, Draco!� Draco shot up out of bed as he heard the sound of his mother’s voice airily scolding him for knocking the cup of tea off of his bed. She smiled at him as he stared back in confusion. “Draco, if you don’t get up now, you’re going to be terribly late for the train. And your father won’t like that.�

Draco shook his head slightly and felt the full impact and truth march into his brain. He wasn’t in the Department of Mysteries; he was in his room, in his bed, awaking from sleep.

A dream, Draco signed contentedly, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Just a dream...

EL FIN.