Tenebrae animam

"Bloody Hell…there's something moving out there," Ron said, his hand caressing the now frosted glass window. They'd been on the train for at least five hours before it had come to an abrupt, jerky stop. A cold eerie silence had consumed the train, save for the fastening of breaths and beating hearts. Scabbers and Crookshanks now hid in the coats of their masters, desperately looking for comfort in the umbrella of darkness the pieces of apparel offered. Ron continued to gape outside of the window, his mouth slightly ajar, trying to sight the flicker of movement he had glimpsed only moments ago, seemingly unaware of the frigidly cold temperature the compartment had descended into.

Harry glanced at the door that he had just opened and had stepped out into the corridor only to be thrown back in suddenly by a spontaneous tug of the train. He sat there watching with his bright emerald eyes in morbid fascination as the glass belonging to the compartment door began to ice over. He looked over at Hermione, to see if she had any explanation for the sudden change of temperature. But it seemed by the frantic darting of her eyes and additionally frazzled hair she had no answer as well. Her hands were clenched over the compartment's chair so hard her knuckles with turning white. It seemed she was in quite a state of panic and rightfully so.

One lone dementor came roaming up the corridor of the red steam engine, searching for the recently escaped convict of Azkaban, Sirius Black. Drifting forward it left trembling and clammy students in its wake. The front of the train gradually warming as it moved from the front toward the end compartments. It glided solemnly toward the end of the train, seemingly disappointed, if a dementor possessed such emotion, of its lack of findings.

Allegedly finished its scour through the corridor, the dementor nearly failed to notice the sheer immorality and irritableness indubitably radiating from the blackened soul deriving from the second last compartment. All rationality the dementor possessed, you could say 'flew out the window' at that point in time. It paid no attention to the subtle difference between the emotions of disgust and annoyance proliferating off the boy residing within the compartment. A certain aura surrounded the boy, cold and merciful, it was well hidden. If one were to look they would a light mage, happy and smiles, but if one were the swat away the bittersweet mist away, what they would find would be undoubtedly surprising.

The young man was the epitome of wickedness; so deeply loathsome he could be described as nefarious. A true snake in the grass.

This is why young Harry Potter was mistaken for Sirius Black. Both having escaped their own moderately contradistinctive confinements, only one was truly free. While Black was an escaped felon and Harry was free by political standards, he was not by any way free by the general populace. Not free to be whom he was on the inside. In retrospect he was a Dark wizard. He had an desirability to what people considered dark magic; this was not because he was evil or ruled by power. He was attracted to them because he was consumed by anger and animosity. It wasn't his fault Britain's magical Wizarding community was filled with bigoted supremacists and stereotypes. The muggle-loving, blood traitors of the light and good were worse than the so-called Dark populous, at least they had reasons for feeling such hate toward things like Muggles they knew what they could do. Why did the light so firmly believe Muggles were so deserving of our love and protection? They were foul, jealous, glory seeking creatures and could destroy anything that made them threatened.

Harry Potter wasn't born evil and neither was Tom Riddle, it was a matter of circumstance. Circumstance was how to the two boys became so different and yet so alike. Harry, the golden boy, the boy-who-lived, society had already painted a picture, a life for him, he was their beacon of light, their savior, he could do no wrong. Tom was no one, insignificant. Both boys were able to slip under and beneath the cracks and hide their true nature, behind their façades.

Sirius Black and Harry Potter were both hiding. What the dementor lacked was the mental capabilities, to distinguish what exactly what they were hiding.

So as the dementor glided menacingly back to the second last compartment it was unaware of the evil it was about to release. A grave error an the creature's behalf.

It slowed as it reached the glass door, it's tattered black robes still swaying in the imaginary wind, with a flick of its boney hand the door clicked opened. One look at the wizard it had sensed before would have confirmed that the person was in fact not Sirius Black, how unfortunate it was that beneath the dementor's black hood, it had no eyes. As it wafted into the small room toward the boy with dazzling green eyes, the two other occupants went ridged with fear as the room yet again cascaded into glacial temperatures.

The boy glared at it with a cold calculating glaze as it advanced toward him. With a rattily breath the dementor proceeded to inhale all of the boy's happier experiences. He began to look lurid and waxen and began to scramble back endeavor to get out of the vial creature's reach.

Before he had moved to far the black hooded menace grabbed him with its black boney hands around the throat and hauled him up against the window, moving closer to the squirming boys mouth. Only then did the girl to its right scream. A very loud blood-curding scream, which could be heard throughout the train.

Fortunately the scream was loud enough to rouse a sleeping staff member in the adjoining carriage. He stumbled towards his own carriage, sleep still blurring his eyes and tried desperately to yank open the door but to no avail he was no quick enough.

The raven-haired boy's attempts to escape the dementor became feeble as most of his remaining happiness was drained from his very soul. His smaller hands pushing against the chest of the creature in a vain attempt to keep it away from himself. But due to the dementor's height it was able to gain access to the boy's mouth. It lent down and placed it's nonexistent lips and the boy's fleshy plump ones and began to suck. Hermione screamed again in a futile attempt to alert a trusted student or staff member to come to their salvation.

To her alleviation, somebody did hear. One Remus Lupin wrenched his compartment door open and with inhuman speed reached the area in which he had heard a girl screech. To his abhorrent surprise, he saw one Harry Potter getting his soul sucked out by a dementor. Without hesitation he flourished his wand and bellowed…

"Expecto Patronum!"

White light exploded from his cypress and unicorn hair wand. A giant white wolf came bounded out horrific creature.

With a horrible screeching sound the dementor retracted its grimy hand from Harry's throat. It scamper away from the copreal wolf and out of the compartment. Remus Lupin, Hermione and Ronald watched Harry dropped like a puppy without any strings crumpled on the floor. The Werewolf watched horror as his cub twitched upon the floor, Harry's chest rising and falling, making no move to suggest he wasn't a soulless husk.

The compartment was deadly silent except for Harry's labored breaths and fast beating of hearts from all four occupants of the area. Cautiously Remus approached the fallen figure, with growing panic he knelt down before Harry his eyes trailing along his face. He sat there for a full minute before the Harry's eyes began to flicker open.

What he saw was enough to make Lupin scramble back in fear. The crimson red eyes were unmistakable. Harry's eyes where the exact same shade of the most feared wizard of the last century, Lord Voldemort's.

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