My head snapped towards the sound with paranoia.

What I discovered was my brother glowing the familiar sickly green again. His hand was gripping our fallen desk (the cause of the crash) too tightly for comfort.

"Fred?" I asked cautiously.

His face was contorted into a grimace.

"George. You've got to run!!! Get everyone out and don't stop until you're safe!!!"

He stopped and threw his head back as if he was just punched.

"I'm not leaving without an explanation." I replied firmly, though a feeling of dread was forming in the pit of my stomach.

Fred screamed again, clawing at his skin. Where nail met skin, blood surfaced.

And as the horrible scene was unfolding in front of me all I could do was look on, frightened.

"Do... you remember those..." He let out a small groan, as if just speaking caused him pain.

"...muggle movies with, um... zombies?" He finally managed to get out.