WHO: Ryan, Ernie, Julian, Lyle and Spencer. WHAT: Ryan needs Julian's help undercover. WHEN: February 12 at 1AM. WHERE: Hufflepuff Dorms. RATING: PG-13 so far.
Ryan got up to look in the mirror. It was dark but he knew the layout of the dorm room pretty well. He just wished someone would turn down the heat. Sweat was streaming down every conceivable pore of his body. It felt like rivers were trickling down his sides, his spine and his chest. When he flicked his wand to turn on the lights, he looked at himself in the mirror.
His furry paws moved over his chest to try and wipe off some of the sheen. It took Ryan a minute to remember that he didn't have paws. He stared in awe at them. He wiggled his fingers and the black claws on the ends of them. His mouth was open and being breathed through audibly while he stared up his arm to his elbow where he suddenly became Human again.
"What else do you expect from a mongrel?" Ryan heard his own voice say this and he only had a split second to look up at the reflection in the mirror. The image cocked it's head with it's own will and a placid evil look stared back at Ryan like he was an annoying insect. Ryan only had a split second to breathe in with shock when a hand shot out of the mirror and grabbed him around the neck. "You're nothing but a filthy, disgusting Mudblood. I can't believe I have to live inside of you, share your face and stare back from this mirror." The look on the mirror image's face twisted with flushed hate.
The hand closed so tightly around Ryan's neck that he couldn't breathe. The Ryan from the mirror stepped out of it, the smooth reflection wavering like a disturbed pond as he pressed through. "Then again maybe I don't have to anymore," the Ryan said. Ryan's paws came around his reflections hands and tried to pull them away. He could hear choking sounds in his ears, gurgling for air. "I want you to die just like your Mom and Dad did," the reflection said now that he had Ryan up against a wall. Then there was a loud bang and warmth flooded through Ryan's body. He felt a shock at the sound and then his brain told him he felt pressure. He smelled something like a struck match.
When he looked down, somehow the reflection of himself was holding a gun. It was smoking. The Ryan's face came nose to nose with himself and sneered, "It's the best you deserve, filth. Killed by your own weapon because you're no wizard." There was another loud bang and Ryan's eyes bolted open.
He moaned because his throat was so dry he couldn't really speak. He'd completely soaked through his sheets and clothes with sweat and they were twisted around him. He was conscious now and he flopped over onto his side. That's when dull pain flashed all the way down his leg, nestled into his crotch and felt like a vice crushing his hip. The weird part was the pain almost felt malicious, like it wanted to hurt him. Ryan couldn't explain it. Ryan smacked his dry lips together and brushed his sopping wet bangs off of his forehead. Something was wrong. What he didn't know is he'd been moaning for part of his dream and he'd woken someone up.