Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't even own the idea for this story! The idea is Hotkat144 and I thank her for allowing others to use her creative ideas!
Night Terrors
Nightmare
Darkness had fallen and all were resting comfortably in their homes except for one lone home. Screams tore through the house, causing it to tremble with the agony of the shrieks. The chaos reigned in a dimly lit room where men in dark robes and masks loomed over two terrified muggles, inflicting unfathomable pain upon their fragile bodies. Cries filled the room from a young, helpless witch being held back to watch the gruesome affects of the unheard spells. Tears streamed down her face as she watched her parent being murdered. Everything seemed to blur as she was released and fell to the ground, captured by pain. The pain never stopped and soon all coherency fled her mind and her sanity slowly started to slip away. Torment was her world now.
Hell
A young, dark-haired wizard stood in the raging light of a house ablaze with flames. His mind was racing yet stood still. His heart drummed faster yet stopped. All sound were deafening, he heard silence.
Eventually his muscles broke free from the ice of fear and despair and burst into the flames of panic, anger, and need as he sprinted towards the house and crashed through the door.
Death Eaters roamed about the house, through the flames. They looked like the very demons of Hell. The scarred young wizard paid no attention to them as something unseen pulled him through the house, up the stairs, and to a closed door. With a desperate wave of his wand, the door flew open and everything slowed to a stop. His terrified eyes met those of a ghost. His lungs were crushed and his heart was torn out and stolen.
Rage flashed through him. As he turned to the Demons in the room, he caught sight of the bodies of muggles he remembered seeing on occasion. Time sped up and ire consumed him. The flames that engulfed the room raged with him. He bellowed curse after curse at Death Eaters, blocking those aimed at him. As his thrashing continued, he paid less attention to protecting himself and was hit with many curses. cut, burned, thrust back; he kept going, showing no sign of being affected.
Suddenly his arms were restrained and his thrashing repressed. Order members flooded in and took over the dueling and capturing of the Death Eaters.
Breaking free from the grasp of his old teacher, he ran to the trembling young witch on the floor. He pulled her into his bloody arms and embraced her tightly, letting a few tears escape. He began to rock back and forth, weeping and mumbling.
"'Mione. No. 'Mione. Not you, 'Mione. 'Mione."
He heard none of the screams, the cries, the curses. He merely heard his own grieving...and a strangled whisper. His name. No matter how distorted the voice was, he would always be able to tell to whom the voice belonged. With this knowledge, he choked back his sobs and peered down into the ghostly eyes. Though he now saw a spark of life. That spark was enough for him to spring to his feet, hauling her up in his arms, and race out of the burning house and to the safety of the opposite street.
Fatigue caused him to fall to his knees and set her on the ground. Physical and mental exhaustion clouded his vision in darkness and he fell forward onto his hands, panting. He needed to remain conscious to protect her. He was losing the battle as his fingers dug into the ground. No. He shook his head and a pain shot through him. "No. I need...to..."
He fell. The feeling of failure and helplessness closed about him as the darkness finally ripped his mind from the world of wakefulness.
A/N: Well there's the beginning. I hope you enjoyed it. Review and let me know!
The following chapters with be done a bit differently then this one.
