Here's the Official first chapter. There will be more at the bottom.

When I fell asleep, I found myself in some kind of basement. It wasn't an attic because the stone floors were cold and wet. I know because my toes would curl on reflex whenever I walked.

Junk was littered all over the place. Boxes with old toys and clothes, mine and my brother's old bikes caked in rust were piled and abandoned on the corner. We got rid of them when our mother bought us our first broomsticks. And our stuffed animals were hanging out of their boxes, rotting with mold.

I remember walking around, trying to find an exit. No matter what I tried, there was none. I tried to find the light switch. But something always happened to hinder it. Wither the bulb was missing, or the switch just wouldn't work. It was dark…

So very dark

There was one thing in the basement that always caught my eye. There was a large floor mirror with an oak frame, always at the center of the basement. But what really drew me in, was the wooden stool right in front of it, the only item that laid on it was a wooden box, big as a baseball.

The moment I saw the box, that was when I heard her.

"Out…Let-"

It wasn't that I heard her in the basement. Rather, it was more like I could hear her whisper in my head.

"Me…Out…Let-"

Just like the others, I picked up the box. I don't know what it was that drew me to it, but it was like my body was naturally attracted to it. I could never understand it's significance, but the moment I picked it up, I felt colder than I was before and I looked up at the mirror.

She was average height for an adult woman, six maybe seven feet tall. Her hair was horribly messy, stringy, and blacker than the abyss. She wore no clothes. She just stood there, not uttering a single word. Yet, I could still hear her voice rattling in my head.

"Out…Out-"

When I turned around, she disappeared. I looked back in the mirror and held my breath. She was now standing right behind me, to the point I could see her gray rotting flesh.

I turned around again, my feet were paralyzed to the ground. Just like before, she was nowhere. I couldn't have been crazy, I know I saw her.

I looked back to the mirror, and the moment my mouth opened, I could feel her cold, clammy hands grip my mouth shut before I could scream. Her pure black eyes staring down at me, she yelled as millions of tiny spiders started spewing out of her mouth:

"LET ME OUT!"

St. Mungos offered different types of psychiatrists and therapists for different types of trauma and patients. Survivors of beast attacks or surviving a thirty-thousand foot broomstick fall were just examples of the many types of trauma specialists they had on hand.

Dr. Victor Rovanosky's specialty were dreams and analyzing their significance. All one had to do was provide the details of the dreams, and he could provide an explanation and way to overcome it.

As he scribbled on his notepad, occasionally scratching his white chin beard with his pen, he turned to his eleven year old patient lying on the couch. "Balek, you did take your potion before bed, didn't you?"

"Just like the other times I've said, yes." The young boy replied to him with a slight yet respectful hint of sarcasm. He couldn't help it considering how shitty his day started. He wasn't particularly fond of waking up screaming after urinating all over the sheets. Most of the time, he recommended his patients a specific hand-crafted potion that provides you with dreamless sleep, perfect for those who suffer frequent nightmares. Two tablespoons were enough for a full night's sleep.

"And you saw the-" He flipped through the pages of his book as he tried to recall what Balek called her. He couldn't pronounce it the same way he did.

Balek saved him the trouble by saying it. "Dibita Sēti."

"That's Amharic, your native tongue, for Rotting Woman. Am I right?"

I nodded to confirm. In his home country of Ethiopia, his people had a legend. Just like most ghost stories, it was the kind you told your kids to make them behave. My older sister told me this story when I was six.

Dibita Sēti, also known as the Rotting Woman, was an African Native known for her immense beauty and charm. All of the males were enchanted by her and everyday she was asked for her hand in marriage. The women however, were unamused by her and hated her for her beauty. There were even rumors that she utilized witchcraft to make the men fall for her. One night while she slept, the women of the village bound and gagged her, wrapping her body in sheets. They then threw her into a lake where leeches squirmed in the sheets and continuously sucked her blood until she turned gray and chunks of her flesh were missing making it appear as if she was rotting. Twisted by her hatred and lust for revenge, she would appear to familie's whose children would act up, curse the mother's and daughters to appear rotten and grotesque, dying days later in a state of unimaginable agony. After they died, she would eat the husbands and sons not long after.

"Yes, that's right." The doc leaned back in his chair. "As I recall when you first came to me a year ago, you started seeing her when you turned seven?"

"Yeah, I remember because that's when I first was able to use magic, although I couldn't exactly control it. I remember accidentally turning my brother's piggy bank into an actual pig, he was so cute we decided to keep him."

I was able to let out a small chuckle as he remembered how Captain Bacon ran around the house at first when he turned alive, coughing out Knuts and the occasional Sickle. His smile disappeared as he could remember her.

"How often do you see her?"

"…At first, it was maybe once or twice every few weeks. But now, it's like if I don't dream about her, I still see her." Victor began to notice his breathing was becoming erratic and off rhythm. He gripped his face and started scratching his face viciously, his eyes were looking somewhere distant. "I can still feel her hands on my face."

Keeping composed, Victor said. "Name five of your favorite foods."

This was common for him. There hasn't been a single day where he didn't with an anxiety attack. A successful method of calming them down was to make them think of something that caused them comfort. Food was one of the most comforting things to think of.

"Fish and Chips, that's two right?"

"I'll take it as one. Four more."

"Um…vanilla ice cream, shepard's pie, apple pie, and injera, this stuff my mom used to make."

Without resorting to magic or potions, this method always did the trick. This isn't the first time Balek experienced a mental breakdown, but this was the first recorded instance of self harm.

"Balek, try to be more careful with yourself."

"Sorry about that doc."

Sighing in relief, Victor looked over his notes and was curious about something. "Have you learned anything about this box you keep finding in your dreams?"

"No, it's just a wooden cube. I guess it's just easier since it looks like a box. It doesn't open or anything."

Victor walked to his desk and pulled an object out of his drawer. Balek took a closer look and saw it was a wooden cube similar to the one in his dreams. The sight of it made him flinch slightly. Just like the one he's been seeing, it was no bigger than a baseball. There were no lines or hatch, a keyhole, anything to open it. "Balek, are you familiar with a puzzle box?"

"I don't think I have."

Victor proceeded to slide his finger on the side, where a wooden bar slid against the side revealing a slight opening. "These little buggers are impossible to open to the untrained eye. Most people, would waste a decade trying to solve one." He proceeded to make several adjustments and hand gestures to where Balek couldn't keep up until the cube revealed a lid that showed a small opening. "This one is special from Zonko's joke shop in Hogsmeade. It's made complicated and charmed to resist magic designed to open them. I gave it to my wife and tested her to open it. Took her two years to figure it out, and inside of it was her engagement ring."

"I'm happy for you, but is there a point or something I'm missing?"

"Well you see, some people believed that a puzzle box could carry and lock away your darkest, innermost secrets, things that even your subconscious mind don't want to comprehend or think about, like a past trauma, or if you witnessed a murder. There's an old superstition where if you tell your secret or something that you wish to forget to the box and close it, you'll stop remembering it. Even in the wizarding community, it's nothing more than a child's way of coping."

"So the box is something I don't want to remember?"

"That's a possibility. When the Rotting Woman says 'let me out', I believe it's your mind telling you to confront whatever happened in your past and charge it head on. Can you think of anything that troubles you?"

"Not at all. I have a wonderful family, I'm going to be starting school tomorrow. Aside from these nightmares, I very much love my life."

"That's right, you're starting Hogwarts tomorrow right? You figure out what house you're going to be in?"

"Most likely Hufflepuff."

"I can definitely see you in yellow robes." Victor laughed.

Suddenly, the timer on his desk rang, signaling the end of their session. "I'm afraid our times up."

"Ah man, and just when I was feeling better."

"Once you start school, I think the rotting woman will be the least of your problems."

"Hopefully I won't have to pester you with my problems."

"Balek, my office is always open if you want to come during your holidays. For now, my advice is to make lots of friends. You'll have no reason to be afraid if you're not lonely.

That was able to put a smile on Balek's face. "I got it."

The early morning of King's Cross station was the busiest. The people bustling to get on the train to get to work.

My family and I walked through the station. I was lugging the station cart containing four briefcases. They held my clothes, textbooks, and other necessities.

"Come on sweetheart, the trains about to leave soon."

It was much easier for her to say if she wasn't pulling a cart that was difficult to maneuver.

It was ten till eleven, and we were officially on the first day of September, meaning I had ten minutes to get on the train.

My father had to work and couldn't make it, so my mother and older sister went to see me off. My youngest brother was being watched over at home by our house elves.

My mother Teniya was surprisingly young looking for being in her early forties. She had long black hair and Hershey brown skin with almond colored eyes. I inherited my father's look, and even kept my black hair shaved like his. It was mostly because longer hair was a hassle to take care of. My sister Y'Bak was the spitting image of our mother, except she kept her hair in a long braided ponytail. She was the tallest of the family at seven feet and had a more athletic appearance. Being twenty, she was the oldest of us siblings. I can imagine some men would find her very attractive. I'd like to see the look on their if they saw the various bite marks and scars she hid under her clothes. Some of them made me wonder how was she still alive? Then again, it made sense, considering her job included handling dangerous magical creatures. After mom, she gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Stay far away from the Forbidden Forest now you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am."

We reached the platform between 9 and 10. I knew what to do next as I've seen my sister off plenty of times. Waving last goodbye to my family, my mother starting to tear up slightly. I ran through the platform barrier and before I knew it, I could see the scarlet steam engine and hear the conductor yell "All aboard the Hogwarts Express!"

There's chapter one, I wanted to get a chapter done to introduce the main character.

So far, I'm amazed at how many forms I've been sent.

So I said before this story takes place during their sixth year. What I'm planning to do is set up the prologue. The first to introduce Balek, the second to introduce the four others, and I'm still debating if there will be a fourth as I already have ideas for a third.

Recently, I was asked if there was a deadline. I didn't think about it at the time, but now I've decided. I'm hoping to get the next chapter done by the first of March.

So the submission deadline for the three descendants will be February 27th

I'm also looking for a new Transfiguration and Defense against the Dark Arts Professor.

Till then