Presence

It was all darkness.

Harry moved slowly into his kitchen. There was no light anywhere. He strained his eyes, looking for something. He was looking for anything.

"Hello?"
He spoke softly, his hand holding his weapon close to his body. His gun, for some odd reason, felt unnaturally cold. It was almost as if it had been turning to ice. He moved his emerald eyes upon his weapon for just one second to check if it really had.

It was a mistake.

Suddenly, he could not breathe. He coughed silently, moving close into the kitchen. He leaned against the cold silver of his fridge. Harry made sure he held his gun tightly in his right hand even as he struggled. He was not going to give up that easily.

"You."

He heard the whisper in the darkness once more. This time the voice was different. It sounded strained. It sounded like it too was having trouble breathing. Harry closed his eyes. It was too hard. He could not breathe at all. He was going to die.

His right hand slackened. Immediately, the cold weapon fell from his hands. It seemed like it took forever to fall. The seconds ticked by slowly. Then it finally hit the cold hard wood floor of the manor with a painfully loud sound.

*****

The sunlight snuck into the bedroom.

It was the master bedroom of the house. To the right of the door stood a elegant cabinet. The cabinet was a dark brown color, closed and holding onto its contents tightly. The carpet was a dark red color, soft to the touch and it stretched across nearly the whole room. There was a mirror not too far away from the cabinet, beaten and old, as it was passed down for centuries. The sunlight was coming from the balcony.

The glass door was open, the wind pouring in noisily. The faint sound of a birds chirping came from outside of the manor. It looked almost like a painting, the sunrays did. Outside the balcony was a large, landscaped area. It had various types of plants, waterworks, benches, and even a small pool. The water reflected the sunlight brightly, flashing and curving.

The young man moaned in his sleep. His dark hair was plastered onto his face. His breathing was labored, as if he was having a nightmare. Which was not surprising, seeing as he was having a nightmare.

He was running quickly, desperately.

His wand pointed directly at the enemy, but he could not utter a word or a spell. His feet suddenly were stuck to the ground. He could not move. His breathing quickened, if that were even possible.

His dream was changing.

It was all darkness, once again.

Dark blue eyes stared at him coldly from a few feet away. They seemed to hold him. He could not move. All he could do was stare back into them. As he watched, a young woman appeared in front of him. Her dark brown hair was wet again. Her dark make-up was smeared across her beautiful face.

"Kill him."

"What?" he whispered.

"You must. Or I'll make you."

Harry stirred awake from his sleep. He coughed loudly, gasping for breath. His messy black hair covered his eyes and he weakly moved his hand upward to push away the soaked hair. His legs were stuck with sweat to the elegant covers. It was too hot in there.

He looked at his hands. They were sweaty and pale. They weren't their usual golden tan. He sighed, his pounding head seeming to be causing physical pain.

The dream did not make sense. It was from her, he knew. It was from Alison.

"Master Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes, hearing the voice of his loyal house elf. The door opened slowly, as if the house elf was wondering if he should not be opening it. A small house elf walked into the room quietly.

"I have breakfast ready in the kitchen, Master. Whenever you would like it…"

The elf continued talking about breakfast, but Harry's mind was drifting. It almost seemed like a fog had covered over his brain, making it unclear and hard to focus. He closed his eyes, pretending to listen to the eager house elf while his mind was elsewhere.

*****

She was out there.

His might was on her the entire walk into his office. Her eyes kept running through his head. Her dark hair and everything about her. He wondered why he kept thinking about it. It was a haze set over him. He could feel her presence as he moved swiftly into his leather chair. His more tan colored hands moved onto his hard desk and he put his head in his hands.

None of it made sense.

It never seemed to in his life.

It never had.

Ever.

He heard a small hissing sound. It sounded like the air coming slowly, in and out of somebody's mouth. Harry moved his hands away from his face and slowly sat up straight, waiting for her. He was waiting for Alison.

"Alison?" he said softly.

There was no response.

All he heard was the horrid screeching sound once more. It sounded like tires running off a road. A loud band followed soon after and Harry rose from his seat, confused.

Suddenly it stopped.

The breathing sounds were gone. The banging and screeching was only a memory. His green eyes scanned the room, looking for something. He wanted anything to help find this mystery out. Anything. He'd settle for anything.

He sighed softly, his eyes moving along his office. He was one of the only Aurors to have an office to himself. Most of the Aurors worked in cubicles. Since he was more talented and needed a room to himself, they gave him one. He also enjoyed the privacy. He had never liked having people right next to him, able to see whatever he was doing.

Then he remembered his reports. They were due later in the day. Harry looked at the clock next to his desk. He still had a few hours. But he needed some time to fill them out. He ran his hands through his dark hair and sat down, ready for some hours of pure writing.

******

I'm so sorry for the extremely short chapter. I promise the next will be longer. I did not have time to go through and edit today. So the writing may be crappy, but give me some slack. I've been so busy lately. It's crazy business.

Please review.