Snapped

Chapter 7: Down The Rabbit Hole

Exam season was nearing. Half the school was mad with revision fever, and Hermione had reached new levels of crazy. He was conscripted into studying every spare second, and one time she'd even followed him into the toilet. Harry had taken to hiding from her in the most unusual of places, which is how he'd ended up under Lockhart's desk.

The office had been empty. Unfortunately, Lockhart followed him in moments later.

His shoes were gold velvet, and twinkled as he walked. Harry could only see the bottom half of his robe, and it was cream, embroidered with portraits of Lockhart in golden thread around the edges, and they waved at Harry, beaming wildly. Lockhart was standing at his desk, humming Madonna's 'Like A Virgin' to himself. Harry stuck a fist in his mouth to prevent himself from laughing.

"Mirror mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" Lockhart suddenly sang.

"Why, you, of course, you handsome scallywag," Lockhart continued in a lower voice. Harry bit down so hard he tasted blood. "If only I wasn't a mirror..."

"Oh please, you flatter me!" Lockhart said in his usual voice.

"Not at all. Your hair is like spun gold, and your teeth are as white as pearls and shine like diamonds!"

Harry choked upon his spit, and Lockhart stopped.

"Who's there?" he called, and almost tripped over his shoes as he spun. Harry glanced at the door, but there was no way he'd make it without being seen.

"Baneofallrodents. Help!" Harry hissed. Baneofallrodents unfurled herself from Harry's shoulders.

"Open," she hissed sleepily, before curling back up.

To Harry's surprise, the stone wall began unfolding, sliding back like the bricks at the entrance to Diagon Alley. Harry glanced up at Lockhart, who was brandishing his wand at the door, oblivious to the drama behind him, and scrambled through it. "Close!" The stones moved again, and as the last one fitted into the wall, Harry was left in darkness.

Harry blinked, but his vision didn't clear. He scrambled for his wand.

"Lumos."

Slime dripped from the ceiling of the tunnel Harry found himself in, joining the muck the covered the floor. Harry sniffed, and regretted it as the stench of waste filled the air.

"This better not be a sewer," Harry growled. Baneofallrodents declined to reply, only furthering Harry's suspicions. He picked a direction, and began walking.

As Harry walked, the tunnel began steeping down, trickles of water preceding him like a small filthy brook. He muttered the parseltongue for 'open' every couple of steps, but no exit appeared. Down and down he walked, and the further he walked, the colder it got. Occasionally things crunched beneath his feet, but the only time he'd glanced down he'd seen the bones of a rodent long gone from this world. Harry didn't look down again.

Occasionally the tunnel changed direction, but never at sharp angle. It meandered like a river, and the stone walls were smooth as if water, or some other substance had eroded them. The tunnel itself was circular, more like an enormous pipe, and Harry hoped he wasn't about to be washed into the Black Lake.

The tunnel got steeper, and Harry seriously considered turning back. Surely Lockhart must have left his office by now? But his curiosity had been piqued, and he never had been one to go back on a challenge. He was bracing his hands against the walls in an attempt to keep his balance, but really, when it happened, he should have realise that it would have been inevitable.

He slipped.

"AAAAHH!" Harry yelled as he slid down the pipe like it was a disgusting water slide. He'd dropped his wand when he'd fallen, and all he could do was brace his head as he shot down the tunnel, picking up speed until the drop was almost vertical. He could see nothing but darkness ahead.