#Scream – Super Saturday Word Count – pay an escalation cost for each add-on | Rating: K+ | Genre: Friendship

400 words – To bed, to sleep, perchance to dream, perchance to scream

Harry was screaming, or at least he was trying to. Nothing was coming out. His mouth was open – wide open in fact – but not sound came out. And he wanted it to come out, this whole thing was terrifying. He didn't know why it was terrifying but he knew it was terrifying. And something this terrifying required him to scream. It wasn't like he could do anything else; he was glued to the floor with no apparent way to break free. Hence the soundless screaming. Maybe whoever had done this to him had also put a silencing charm on him. But why?

He tried to tug his leg free but had no luck. Why would someone want to do something like this to him? It wasn't Voldemort's style – he'd be dead by now – so who was it? Nothing in his surrounding gave him any clues to who it might be. The stone walls were bare with only the dimmest of candles lighting them, producing little more than a flicker, the floors were of rough wood and the ceiling dripped for some inexplicable reason though no water made it to the floor.

But none of that had anything on this feeling that crawled up his spine and settled into his bones. It made his guts twist together and his hair stand on end. He didn't know how to cope with any of these feelings except by screaming. So, he screamed. But, as he mentioned before, nothing came out.

He needed to get away from here. Far away from here. Needed to get help. Was there no one else here? No one to save him? If only someone could hear his screams, get some idea that he was here and very much alive. For the time being anyway. Who knew how much time he had left, if he had any at all? It didn't matter anyway; his screams weren't coming out. There was no way to make himself known.

Harry steeled himself. It was up to him to get himself out of this mess. He had to do something; he couldn't just wait here – doing nothing. Not that he exactly had a choice in the matter. He looked down at his feet, which were still stubbornly stuck to the floor. This was something had to figure out first. All the planning in the world wouldn't do any good if he couldn't move.

+200 words – You try to run, but something's wrong. Or maybe it wasn't right all along.

Without warning, whatever was holding him to the floor gave way. Harry caught himself before he fell, only stumbling slightly. He didn't even take a breath before taking off, just wanting to get as far away from that spot as physically possible.

Or, until he got to a corner anyway. Harry James Potter might be a lot of things but stupid wasn't one of them (no matter what Snape said). He knew better than to go careening around a corner when you had no idea what might be around it. So, he pressed himself up against the wall and waited.

Waited to see if something, anything, would happen. People to jump out, a spell cast around it, a heavy item dropping from the sky. Something.

He got something. He inhaled sharply as he heard it. The whispers. He couldn't make out what they were saying but it couldn't be good. Not with this rather dark sense of foreboding all around him.

He edged closer to the corner. The voices got louder. Still unintelligible however. Maybe a bit closer.

Then they stopped.

That was definitely not good but he couldn't stop himself, he turned around the corner. He held his breath.

+200 words- The chittering from the shadows grows louder, the fingers reach, they claw, you flounder.

He could hear more of them but he still couldn't see them. Hell, he still had no clue what 'they' even were. Demons? Monsters? Ghouls? Maybe he didn't want to know. All Harry knew that he wanted to get far, far away from them. So, he ran. He ran like he was being 'Harry Hunted' like the old days.

Feet pounding against the floor, his breath came out in gasps. He kicked at the grabbing fingers reaching for him from the inexplicable shadows lining the place. They were relentless – refusing to leave him alone. Jumping and zig-zagging, he managed to avoid them all. He just had to stay ahead of them, keep on running. There had to be an end to this… whatever this was. It couldn't go on forever

His feet skidded on the floor when suddenly something grabbed him from behind in a tight grasp, twisting the material of his t-shirt. He tried to struggle free but the grip only got tighter. It started to pull him backwards, the initial jerk enough to make him lose his footing. He was dragged closer and closer to it, he could feel it's damp breath on the back of his neck…

+200 words- A glow of light at last! A brief respite? You gasp…

"Wha?" he was jolted awake by some very vigorous shaking. The world around him was blurry but he would know that bright orange splotch anywhere. "Ron?"

At least that came out a bit more coherent. Harry blinked rapidly as the lights above him made their presence known when Ron moved from directly above him. Why were they so bright? His hand scrabbled along his bedside table, trying to feel out his glasses - why were they never in an easy to reach spot?

His glasses were shoved onto his face clumsily, the arm catching on his ears. Harry winced and adjusted them as he sat himself upright, everything finally coming into focus.

"You alright?"

"Ron?"

It was definitely Ron, right? Not some sort of strange apparition sent to torture him?

"Yeah, mate?"

Ron's face reappeared above him. This time Harry could see every single freckle. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was Ron. He was awake.

"Harry?"

Harry waved him away. "I'm fine."

And he was. It was just a nightmare. A run of the mill nightmare that, for once, was in no way caused by Voldemort. Just a stupid dream. It wasn't real. He didn't need to run.