A/N: God damn me. Why am I constantly starting new stories? I'll try and continue the Magical Singalong as soon as I can but I accidentally deleted the iTunes playlist I made for all the songs I wanted to be in it. That's more depressing than it sounds, I promise you.
Summary: Harry and his friends are going on a road trip, but sketchy things start to happen and the wind is howling like a coyote. They don't even have coyotes in England (or Scotland, rather)! Follow them along their nasty adventure as they are trapped, due to a very unfortunate monsoon. What is the gang to do? I will admit that some motivation was taken from the Scary Movies, but those entire movies were based off other stuff. This story will include ever scary movie cliché I can think of, so, enjoy.
Disclaimer: Just take a wild guess as to what I own. (Hint: nothing.)
It was a dark and stormy night. Our good pals Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Parvati, and Lavender—jeez, that's a lot of names—were driving along in Harry's hip and cool Volkswagen bus. Harry decided to get his Muggle driver's license because he guessed that it might come in handy. Indeed it did when Ron suggested that they take a road trip across the great land of Scotland in celebration of their graduation from Hogwarts. Harry didn't give a damn about those stupid horcruxes, so he set off in search of a car and was very lucky to stumble across this beauty. Harry and Ron voiced Ron's idea to the others and they were hooked in a heartbeat. And that's how we find our powerful antagonists as they are right now, sitting in this van, singing happy songs, maybe they're a little tipsy off a few too many butterbeers, but who has to know? They were driving along the long, winding roads of Scotland in the dead of night, like the bright Hogwarts graduates they were when suddenly—
"Are we there yet?" complained Ginny, in a horrible groan that was exactly the opposite of music to anyone's ears.
"Not quite, Ginny," Harry responded dutifully.
"We're not much closer than we were sixty-seven seconds ago," Ron informed her.
"So where's this hotel that we're staying at, again, Harry?" Lavender questioned.
Harry just took a deep breath, trying his best to avoid making a rude comment about how he answered that question when Parvati asked it five hundred and three-quarters milliseconds ago. "It's supposed to be a hip and happenin' hotel outside Glasgow."
"Glasgow, eh?" Seamus responded. "I took a trip there with me mum to visit her great-grand-uncle. It was a pretty boring place."
"I'll have you know, Seamus, that Glasgow is a particularly revolutionary wizarding city," Hermione said annoyingly. "Glasgow is…" She couldn't really think of anything else to say. "Glasgow is interesting," she settled with. And then added a little, "Hmmph."
"Want another butterbeer, mate?" Ron offered to Harry, who was sitting on his right.
"No thanks," Harry answered responsibly. "I'm the designated driver, remember?"
"You're not very sober for a designated driver," Ron replied.
"Shut up—bloody hell!" Harry swerved back to the correct side of the road after almost hitting an innocent bystander. On a bike. Driving in the UK was so damn confusing.
"Ha, ha," Ron teased. "Drunk and designated. What an oxymoron."
"Drunk and designated, drunk and designated, drunk and desig—"
Before Ron could finish his chant, Harry leapt practically out of his seat and grabbed Ron by the neck, shaking him vigorously. Harry wasn't particularly pleasant while under the influence.
"Harry! Stop!" Ginny cried dramatically, attempting to pull the two immature boys apart.
Hermione, always thinking about her own safety, immediately dove over Harry in an attempt to control the wheel.
But it was too late. Before the eight of them knew it, there was a crack in the windshield, a dent in the roof, and a sickening thump was ringing through their ears. They would've flown off the road if Hermione hadn't wrenched the wheel in the opposite direction and slammed her hand on the break.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what is wrong with you people!" she screamed, pulling herself out of the pedal area.
There was silence and everyone was still until Dean spoke.
"What the hell did we just hit?"
The group reluctantly and slowly climbed out of the car. The retraced the car's skid marks and found—dun, dun, DUN!—a crumpled body at the side of the road.
Lavender and Parvati shrieked at the top of their lungs.
"What the fuck?" cried Ron and Dean in unison. Then they looked at each other.
"Wait a minute…" Hermione said, pushing her way through the group. "I recognize that hair."
"What?" Ron was confused. "You recognize the hair?"
Hermione ignored him and pushed the body over, only slightly tentative of her actions. Everyone gasped very loudly. What they saw was Draco Malfoy's face covered in blood.
"WE KILLED A MALFOY!" Lavender screamed, her eyes tearing.
"Yippee! Three cheers for Harry!" Ron cried.
"Ron! Are you crazy? That's a hit and run!" Hermione snapped.
"Maybe in America."
Hermione frowned at the imbecile.
"No, Hermione's right. We can't just abandon the body," Harry decided masculinely.
"It'll just be manslaughter, anyway," Hermione noted.
Ron started to speak but Ginny hit him in the kidney.
"Except for the fact that we're all totally wasted," Seamus pointed out.
"Hmm… Good point," stated Hermione, tapping her chin with her forefinger.
"So what should we do with him?" Parvati asked.
"Hey, I have a great idea!" Lavender cried, throwing her hands up in excitement.
"What is it?" Harry pressed.
"Why don't we take him to the hospital?" she voiced.
"That's a great idea!" said Dean.
"Yeah!" the others agreed.
So the boys picked up Malfoy and threw him into the back seat of the car, and the conscious individuals all filed in to the other seats. They headed off through the dark roads of Scotland, continuing on their way. Suddenly it a clap of thunder rang through the area and the rain began pouring down in buckets.
"Great," Harry grumbled, leaning closer to the windshield, through which a tiny stream of water was leaking because of the giant split up the middle. "Just great. Now I can see even less."
"Cheer up, mate," Ron said. "On the bright side, we knocked out a Malfoy." He patted Harry lightly on the back.
"Speaking of which, did anyone think to check his pulse?" Seamus wondered aloud.
"Ugh!" Hermione scoffed. "You idiots…" She then leaned over the back of her seat to feel Draco's pulse. She felt a sort of muted thump against her fingertips, but she never could really successfully take pulses anyway. "He's conscious," she concluded.
They drove in silence for what felt like hours, but really was only about fifteen minutes, until the car stopped.
"Oooh! Are we at the hospital?" Ginny asked, extremely giddy for some unknown reason.
"Shit!" Harry cursed under his breath, fiddling with the ignition. "No, the car broke down," he confessed.
"What?" the girls shrieked.
"Bloody hell!" the boys shouted.
"Now we're never going to get to explore the thriving culture of Glasgow!" Ginny whined, tears spilling so quickly from her eyes, someone might mistake them for the rain outside.
"Okay, calm down, calm down," Harry said, turning around in his seat. "Look, there's a road up here. Maybe it leads to a house."
The eight of them plus Malfoy all exited the van, the latter being carried by the four men. They made their way down a long, winding, and dark road through the pouring rain.
"Ugh. How long is this stupid road?" Ginny complained, glancing around at her surroundings. She was soaked to the bone and the trees surrounding the road seemed to be looming in on the group, forming a bit of a canopy. An evil canopy. But clearly not enough of a canopy because it was still letting rain escape. More maybe that was just the evilness of it.
"It's not really like we have another option, Ginny," Harry told her. "Unless you can think of some way to magically transport us out of here."
I guess apparition never occurred to any of them.
They finally made it to a giant, stone mansion just as a bright flash of lightening appeared before their eyes and a humongous clap of thunder filled their ears.
"'Haunted mansion'," Harry read the words etched in the stone above the door. "Sounds friendly."
The group reached the door. Ron reached for the big brass knocker hanging from a brass lion's mouth and banged it tentatively against the ominous wooden door. After several seconds there was no response. Ron knocked a third time. They paused, waiting with their ears alert. No answer. Ron glanced at the others before knocking a third time as loud as he possibly could. The door creaked open.
"Thank Merlin!" Ginny cried under her breath, stepping forward and pushing her way straight into the building.
"Ginny, where are you—?" Ron started, but was cut off as the others followed his little sister's actions.
The house was completely furnished with a grand stone staircase covered with a thick, red, velvet rug and statues scattered about everywhere. Candles supplied a surprisingly visible amount of light, which filled the lavish entrance entirely.
Lavender stepped forward. "This place is perfect." She turned back to the others. "Shall we select our rooms?" she asked properly.
"Lavender, we're not staying here, we're just looking for help," Dean informed her, wringing out his shirt. He dropped his portion of Malfoy and started walking toward the staircase. "Hello!" he cried. "Is anyone home!"
"Where is everyone?" Hermione wondered.
"Duh, you guys. This place is abandoned," said Lavender.
"Really, Lavender? Then why is it all lit up and furnished and there's not a speck of dust to be found?" Ron retorted.
"Actually, this coffee table's a bit dusty," Seamus discovered, wiping his hands along the wooden surface.
Ron chose to ignore him.
"Well clearly everyone left for a little joyride in the storm because it doesn't look like anyone's here," Lavender stated.
"How about we split up and find out?" Harry suggested.
"Are you stupid?" reacted Dean. "Whenever people split up they always start dying. No way am I allowing that to happen."
"Come on, Dean, that only happens in movies," said Ginny, in what she felt was an intelligent manner.
Dean rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean that it's not going to happen to us."
Suddenly, a loud cough echoed through the room. It was coming from Malfoy. Everyone who was left holding him immediately dropped him on the ground in fear.
"Bloody—" he started, but the shock overcame him and Malfoy had to stop. He looked around. "Where the hell am I and what in bloody hell am I doing with you lot?"
"Um… Well…" The group tried desperately to think of an explanation.
"We found you on the side of the road—" Parvati started.
"You passed out because you were drunk—" added Ron.
"So we decided to take you to the hospital—" Seamus joined in.
"And I checked your pulse and knew you were still alive—" explained Hermione. She wasn't lying.
"Funny," Draco said, scratching his chin, "the last thing I remember was a set of bright lights."
"That was our car," said Harry. "You passed out right as we drove by you."
Draco caught sight of his fingertips and gasped, noticing the blood he had collected from touching his face. "Are you sure you didn't HIT me!"
"How could we hit you!"
"We would never hit you!"
Draco smirked but decided to change the subject. Remarkably, he couldn't feel a thing from his wounds. "Where are we, then?"
"I don't know," Harry said. "The car broke down."
"Somewhere outside Glasgow, we suppose," Ginny added.
"Glasgow?" Draco repeated. "You drove all the way to Glasgow?"
"What do you mean? It's not that far from England," Harry told the battered boy.
"Well it's bloody far from where you would've hit me."
"We didn't hit you!" Lavender snapped.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously.
"Well I was just roaming around Aberdeen, where my family has a summer home—"
"ABERDEEN?" Hermione cried. "Aberdeen? Harry, you drove all the way to the other side of the country! You moron!"
Harry, indeed, had been stumped.
Euughh… That was much better in my head, before I actually started it. I'll try my best to make it get better. There are a few things you should bear in mind, however:
I have never been to Scotland.
I know absolutely nothing about the British judicial system. Hence the bad joke about it.
Does anyone know how to make the breaks in the story just a big straight line going across the page? Without having to draw one in with the underscore… Thanks. It was a bit long. Hope you don't mind. Please review!