Hidden Fears

A dark hooded figure walked down the corridor, its feet barely seeming to touch the floor. The air turned dry, and stale, making you almost taste the evil. The night turned black, clouding everything from view; but you could still hear the light steps on the ground, still feel the soft hiss of breath, still feel him closing in on you.

You tried to scream, but your lips were numb, tried to run, but your body was frozen. It felt like cold hard steel was encased all around you, leaving you helpless and alone. Your very thoughts were being invaded by vicious laughter, and voices whispering to accept defeat. You mouth was burning from trying to scream, and your hands raw from the endless tugging. You used every ounce of strength you had in you, but it did no good. He was still coming.

The footsteps had gotten louder, and a chill had started down your spine, making you feel as if even your body pulsated from the evil. It moved closer and closer, the breath getting louder, until you could almost feel the moistness on your face. Your mind started reeling; you had to do something, but what? Suddenly everything stopped. The voices in your head fell silent, the beating rhythm of the breathing died down, and the footsteps were no more.

It stayed like this for what seemed an eternity. You could feel the seconds clicking by, turning into minutes, turning into hours. You’re body started to ache, and you knew that soon you wouldn’t be able to bear this anymore. Your eyes started to glaze over, and your body started to sag, its weight resting on the invisible confines all around you. One final thought fluttered through your head, this is the end.

Just as you were about to let the darkness take over, you heard a soft flick in the air. Your neck seared with pain, and if felt as if it had caught on fire. The worst of pains couldn’t even compare to this. A flash of light glowed around you, and then utter, complete darkness.

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Drip, Drip, Drip. Your eyes opened slowly to the dull aching echo in your head. Everything was fuzzy, and there was a single shaft of light coming down. Focus started to come to you, and you expected the worst, a prison, a torture cell, maybe even hell. But the last thing you expected was what you saw, a common room full of four poster beds, and clothes strewn on the floor. You rubbed your eyes to make sure this wasn’t a hallucination, when your fingers brushed something hard. You pulled your hand down to examine it, and let out a sigh of relief when you saw what it was.

Sandbags. You were just dreaming. It was all a dream, none of it was real. Just your mind conjuring up things to scare you. News of Voldemorts attacks have been everywhere lately. In the papers, in the gossip columns, and in every common household. Hogwarts had become a gloomy place as of late. There was no more laughter in the halls, no more jokes or smart remarks to the teachers. Everyone was cautious, and every talk was hushed. It seemed as if Voldemorts greatest power was not his ability to kill, but his ability to spread terror and fear among everything that breathed. Surely all this was what caused him to dream like that. But it seemed so real......

Heavy footsteps could be heard coming up the steps towards the dorms. Panic once again rose in him, and his body turned ridged, his hand reaching for his wand that with horror realized wasn’t there. The door swung open, and in Ron clambered in, having to duck very low because of his height. He walked in, and looked up, his face forming a smile when he saw Harry, but it froze as he saw the expression upon his friends face.

“Are you alright there mate? You look like you’ve died.”

Harry looked at him, trying to smile, but finding himself unable. “I’m fine, Ron. I’ve just had a dream, that’s all. And lost my wand. You haven’t seen it have you?”

“You probably just left your wand downstairs when we were practicing some spells for our N. E. W. T. S. Don't you remember? It was only five minutes ago.”

A fear started to creep into Harry. Five minutes? Why that couldn’t be right. It must have been longer, surely. A flash of worry shot across his face before he covered it quickly with a false smile.

“Oh, I guess that’s where it is then. I’m going to go for a walk outside to get some air. I’ll meet you back here soon okay?”

Ron looked at him questioningly, but then accepted defeat and just nodded. Harry turned to go, but Ron stopped him before he could even take a step.

“Harry, what the bloody hell is on your neck?!”

Confused, Harry went over to the mirror and cocked his head to the side. All color drained from his face, and cold, grim horror clenched at his heart. For on his neck in cold black ink, was a skull, with a green glittering snake climbing out of it.