Sneaking along the cobble side street of Godric's Hollow, parting the damp mist around her. Taking each step slightly elevated leaving only a muffled crunch behind.
Remembering to warily inspect every shadowed corner, scrutinize each unidentifiable object. Every breath accompanied with a smell, resulting in flashes of memory – the Kipling family's wood fired oven merging with the usual sweet aroma result of their baking, Hendry Witwaters magically rejuvenated Rosa canina (Dog rose) garden and something, something familiar.
Familiar – Something familiar, because this is Matilda's home village. Yet, at the same time, it isn't. This didn't make any sense. Everything felt the same, the village buildings looked the same. Frowning through the darkness of the night, Matilda froze for a moment in the middle of the road – suppressing the need to take cover from watchful eyes. It is the ornaments and outer accessories of the houses around her that created her confusion. She didn't recognize any of the ornaments covering the walls and lawns of the wizarding community's homes as well as the homes of the handful of muggles living in Godric's Hollow. Curved metal dishes mounted against walls and roof tops, rows of wires connected in intervals, and also what appeared to be gnome houses among the hedges of neighboring wizard families. This was strange; because gnomes are seen as a menace and fumigated with a sleeping gas so as to be apparated away to the country side. In the middle of this though, Matilda's suspensions were confirmed. A foot tall little man, resembling a fat potato, marched out of the miniature house, kicked a beetle into the long grass and slammed the door going back in again. Could this be a trick the neighbors were playing on her?
The unfamiliarity of her surroundings in the cold moonlight gave Matilda the confusing daze; it was different feeling that kept Matilda constantly darting her gaze around. A feeling of dread. A feeling of immense evil. Matilda realized she was holding her breath and slowly exhaled when she felt her heart stop. Something, someone was moving in the shadows some way in the distance. Darkness so dark it gave the shadows around it color. Changing the blackness of the night into ash gray. The overwhelming realization dawned on Matilda. Someone is going to die this night.
As the fiend emanating the darkness moved on, Matilda felt herself being pulled to follow it. Follow it in the direction she knew to be her home. She realised that she has to follow it. Pass it in some way so that she could reach her family and get them to safety. Matilda tried to move her feet and after willing her fear to subside she started to move on after the darkness.
Each step Matilda took after the Darkness she felt colder, scared and more helpless. As if whatever she did, nothing could stop the feeling of everlasting emptiness. The resulting effect of death. Matilda rounded the last corner and could see the outline of her house. The house her family had for generations and will have for many more, Matilda thought desperately. Her home, where her husband was reading the Daily Prophet before bed. Where her beautiful baby boy was sleeping and dreaming of adventures to come in his upstairs room. She had to save them from this evil. She had to do something. A desperate thought of action.
As she moved closer to her home she stopped. The Darkness was at the door. She was too late. It was opening the door to the house. Matilda could see her husband standing in the living room frowning at the opening door. The Darkness paused at the door, and turned. It had a face – a horrible face. And as Matilda started to utter a soundless scream she recognized the face.
Matilda Potter's eyes shot open her hands clutching the sheets around her neck. Fear, fear like nothing she ever felt before. Fear and a knowing. A sad knowing.
Matilda shook so violently that she couldn't move.
Matilda stared into nothingness. Attempting to say something - anything.
She gathered herself and murmured a single word, "Tom".