Chapter 1: Are You Afraid of the Dark?
I'm not afraid of the dark, per se, so much as the unknown it cloaks. I've walked down this dimly lit hallway hundreds of times, and yet I still feel dread when I'm doing so alone. Anything could be hiding in the shadows, just waiting to jump out at me. I can't breathe easily until I'm close enough to see the distant light of the Entrance Hall.
As I leave the dungeons, I see the sunlight streaming through the windows above. I've just crossed into the light when I see him coming down the main staircase. Never one to pass up an opportunity, I swiftly approach him armed with a snarky quip.
"Everyone finally abandoned you, Potter?"
He looked up at me through his ill-fitting glasses. "If only, but here you are – ruining the peace and quiet."
I scoffed. "Why? Miss all the whispers?"
He scowled. "Shut up, Malfoy."
I've got him now. "Don't worry, Potter. Everyone will be finishing their breakfast soon, and I'm sure they're dying to hear what the Heir of Slytherin has been up to this morning."
"Shut up!" Potter clenched his fists. "I know you don't believe I'm the one behind the attacks."
He's right. In my mind, there's no chance that he's the Heir. If he was, well, I'm sure I would be higher on his hit list than any mudblood. But why would I tell him that? It's more fun to make him think he's losing his mind than to confirm reality.
I dramatically grabbed for my wand. "D-Don't come any closer, Slytherin fiend!"
"You're a Slytherin student," Potter sighed in exasperation. "You've got nothing to—"
He froze. For a second, I wondered if he had been petrified. He was still facing me, but his eyes seemed to not see me at all.
"Potter, what–?"
"Do you hear it? The voice?" Potter asked frantically.
"What?" It sounded like a joke, but the expression on his face was far from it.
"Listen," He hushed. "Can you hear it?"
We stood in silence staring at each other. I strained to hear what he was talking about.
"No," I finally conceded. "I only hear people yelling in the Great Hall."
His expression changed from desperate to determined, and he sprinted towards the staircase. Confused, but curious I followed behind him.
Up the stairs.
Turn to the right, passed the suits of armor.
Turn left, up another flight of stairs.
Left again and down the hall.
Right again.
"Potter, slow down!" I panted. "What's going on!?"
Up another staircase.
"It's going to kill someone, I have to stop it!"
I was shocked by his words, yet more determined to see where he would lead me.
Then, he turned a corner.
I wasn't far behind him, but since the hallway split two ways, I hesitated. I thought I heard something to the right, so I ran in that direction.
The hallway curved around.
Then, I caught up to him.
Potter was standing in front of a large wall mirror. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, as I caught my breath. "If you're done admiring yourself, let's go."
But…he didn't move.
I put my hand on his shoulder to shake him. He didn't respond, so I pulled him toward me. He tipped backward and caused us both to fall to the floor. I pushed him off of me, then sat up and looked at him.
"Potter?"
He looked like he was frozen again, but this time he didn't blink. I put my hand on his chest, but it didn't rise at all. "Potter, this isn't funny. Stop joking around."
He wasn't dead – he couldn't be dead.
"Potter?"
I backed away from him in horror. No! He can't be dead! I just talked to him! I felt my chest grow tight and my breathing became difficult. No! No! No! No! No!
I stood up and hovered over him, looking for anything that could tell me if he was alive. Shakily, I reached for his hand and noticed that it felt stiff. I tried bending his fingers which were loosely curled into fists, but they wouldn't budge.
As I stared down at him I couldn't help but think of how eerily similar he reminded me of a stone statue.
Oh.
Wait!
What if?
That was when I understood.
I backed away from him and ran as fast as I could. I had to go.
It was when I reached the bottom of a staircase that I stopped running. I needed to catch my breath.
RING!
RING!
RING!
I looked around and realized I had ended up back in the Entrance Hall. Students filled the main floor and went in different directions around me.
"Mr. Malfoy?"
I jumped and turned to see Professor McGonagall looking at me with concern. "Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?"
I blinked, but was too startled to respond.
"Mr. Malfoy, where's your bag? You're going to be late for class."
I turned away from her and looked toward the dungeons. My first class wasn't potions, but I felt something drawing me to it. I had just stepped foot into the shadows when I felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me back.
"Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing?" I looked up to see Professor Snape staring down at me.
"I–"
Before I could answer, I was cut off by loud screams in the distance. The students and professors who still lingered in the Entrance Hall looked around in confusion. I saw Professor McGonagall and Snape race up the stairs, and I felt torn between following them and continuing to the dungeons.
I knew what they were going to find, but I didn't want to hear it. So, I chose to quickly walk down the candle-lit path until I reached the common room. I sat on a chair furthest away from the fireplace, and waited. I was grateful that the room was empty for once, since I knew I couldn't handle any questions directed my way.
Eventually, I heard the school bell chime as class was dismissed. Some of the upper years came through and saw me, but just walked by. I waited there until the second lesson of the day got out. It was then that my year mates came in and made a beeline toward me.
"Draco, where have you been!? You've missed all the drama!" Pansy squealed.
"What…What drama?" I asked slowly, dreading the answer.
"It's Potter," Theo grinned. "The Heir got him!"
"Oh," I replied. I leaned back in my chair, somehow both relieved and terrified.
Harry Potter had been petrified, and all I could do was sit in a chair lost in thought.