HP FICTION: Approaching Darkness

Title: Approaching Darkness
Timeframe: Summer after Harry’s forth year
Genre: Drama (more like melodrama), AUish
Summary: Darkness approaches Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: Harry, Hogwarts, and the rest of the Wizarding World belong to J.K. Rowling, no matter how irritated I am with her at the moment.

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Approaching Darkness -

Another night was underway. The moon, almost full, dimly lit the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with a cold blue-white light. The windows of the castle, previously warm beacons shining in the night, were being extinguished by unseen hands within the stone walls.

The light of the moon kept the castle from being plunged into darkness. Faint outlines of towers and halls could still be seen by those who knew what to look for, even though the castle’s revealing inner light had gone.

The quiet peace that usually settled over the school, as students and teachers drifted off to sleep, was this night elusive. There was tension in the air, expectation. The trees of the dark forest stood still, branches and leaves unmoved by wind. Even the creatures, normally breaking the silence of night, each with its own unique voice, felt the mood radiating from their surroundings and remained silent.

Entering this stillness, swirling mist broke out of the forbidden forest; a cold, gray fog covering the ground and blocking the faint moonlight from the surface of the earth. The mist wrapped around Hagrid’s Hut, breaking like waves against the wooden walls, and continued on its way toward the dark castle.

A young man observed the scene from one of the castle’s high towers. As the mist reached the walls surrounding the school and began pouring through the gate, he could almost imagine that the school no longer sat on land but floated above it in the clouds. There was security in that thought, however false it was. And he knew it was false. There was nowhere safe, not anymore.

Something was coming, a darkness unlike that of the night. Cold that pierced not only the body but also the soul. Evil that would not rest until hope, and warmth, and goodness were but a weak memory, if even then. And he knew, he felt, it was coming soon.

A chilling wind blew through the open window in front of him. It ruffled his already unkempt hair and sent its icy tendrils through his thin robes. He took no notice of the cold, his mind occupied with hundreds of unpleasant thoughts.

Out in the night, thick, dark storm clouds began to gather, cutting off the faint light of the moon. In the absence of this revealing light, unnoticed by the troubled young man, silent figures crept out of the protection of the forbidden forest. Long black cloaks flowed around them as they converged upon the gate that would lead them towards their goal. Ample hoods rested upon their heads, hiding their identity from all who would look upon them. Lust for power and fear of their master drove them forward. Victory this night would bring great rewards. Defeat meant death.

One by one they entered the dark halls of the castle, each to their own dark mission. Malevolence, like their cloaks, seemed to surround them as they silently moved through the school. Yet the castle slept on, unaware of the danger within.

Up in the tower, the young man seemed to sense the change within the castle. Jumping up from where he sat, he made to grab his wand, but within seconds was frozen in place. There was death in the air. A shrill scream pierced the silence of the night followed by a blinding flash of green light, unseen by all those within the castle walls.

Signaled, as though by the scream of a life now destroyed, darkness made itself known. Shooting up over the treetops of the forbidden forest, from seemingly hundreds of different locations, bright green fireworks cast their eerie glow over everything in sight before fading slowly into smoke. Rising up in their wake, a bright green skull settled itself over the forest; an image of a snake protruded from its gaping mouth. The symbol that made even the strongest wizard fearful and the most hopeful lose heart. The sign of Lord Voldemort.

In the light of their master’s symbol, having abandoned all pretense of subtlety, a host of dark robed figurers darted out of the forest. Brilliant light erupted from their raised wands and streaked towards the castle. As wave upon wave of light impacted with the ancient walls, it seemed the very foundation of the school was trembling. The very spells that had held the castle together and protected it for hundreds of years were being tested and they were failing against the onslaught of dark magic.

Racing down a corridor, having abandoned his tower, the young man dodged stones as they fell from the now unstable walls and ceilings. He knew it was only a matter of time before the castle collapsed in on itself, killing all those inside and saving the darksiders the trouble of doing the job themselves. The need to get out was overwhelming, causing him to abandon caution and run even faster then wisdom dictated.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his breaths coming in short gasps, as he rounded the corner he hoped would lead to freedom. Only a short distance away the front doors of the school stood, open and inviting, calling him to the escape they offered. Yet he came to a stop in front of them, hesitating. He could hear the screams of students and teachers echoing in the entrance hall. He knew, with a sense of desperation, he couldn’t just leave them without trying to help.

His hesitation was all the dark one needed. It raised its wand and muttered a curse, directing it at the boy. Turning around, the young man froze as a beam of light sped toward him. Roaring filled his ears. Within seconds his world seemed to be filled with brilliant green light and a penetrating cold. An agony unlike anything he had known before filled him, only releasing its claws as darkness claimed its ownership over him.

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The memory of dazzling light and agonizing pain still fresh in his mind, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter bolted upright in bed. Taking several shaky breaths, he tried to calm his racing heart and mind. It was only a dream… only another dream.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and placing them on the floor, he tried to make himself forget how real everything had seemed. It felt as thought he had actually been at Hogwarts in the midst of a death-eater attack. Yet he knew he hadn’t been. Of course that doesn’t mean I won’t be, eventually.

It was less than a month since the most feared dark lord of the century had returned, regaining his old strength, and it was only a matter of time before he resumed his campaign of terror. Those who acknowledged his return were preparing themselves for a difficult fight.

Harry’s mind again drifted to Hogwarts. If Voldemort was indeed more powerful than before, as Prof. Trelawney predicted, it wasn’t unlikely that he would go after Hogwarts. After all, Hogwarts, along with its Headmaster, was a symbol. It was known as one of the safest places in the wizarding world, a stronghold of the light. Its fall would be devastating.

But that wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t.

Harry tried to push all these thoughts out of his head. They weren’t doing him any good. They only succeeded in giving him nightmares and sleep-deprivation. He didn’t need anymore things to think about. The events of the Third Task still hovered, even present, in his mind. Cedric’s death still weighed down on him. No, I don’t need anything else to worry about right now. Anyway, what had Hagrid said? What will come will come. I can only control how I meet it when it does.

Focusing on that, and on as many happy memories of his friends he could think of, Harry laid down again in an attempt to sleep. After all, His Aunt and Uncle would probably have an unrealistically long list of chores for him to do come tomorrow. He would need all the sleep he could get.

--THE END--

AUTHOR'S NOTES:
07/07/05: This is just a small idea I got that came out of my efforts to write my own version of Harry’s fifth year, although it is only slightly related to the aforementioned efforts.
03/26/06: I think the idea came from a dream (or nightmare) I had of the dark mark hovering over the forbidden forest. In the dream I think it was actually several dark marks, but I didn't use that many in the story. I wrote this rather quickly if I remember correctly. It is by no means a great example of writing, but it's something.