Night in the forest once again.

In the Forbidden Forest, darkness had settled, wrapping everything in a chilling embrace, but Harry had never felt more awake. The owls sang their ominous melodies, their notes a haunting reminder of the perilous journey ahead, one that seemed akin to marching into battle.

And perhaps, in this haunting expanse, he was indeed marching off to a war.

Learning from past experiences, he came well-prepared this time, donning appropriate winter attire and clutching a wand firmly in his hand.

Before venturing into the forest, he had dedicated an entire day to scouring the library's shelves in pursuit of defensive spells.

In his other hand, he held a bag stocked with some food.

The pale, ghostly glow of Harry's wand seemed to pulse with an ominous energy, and as he whispered to himself, "Stranger, if you're here..." his voice quivered with a chilling uncertainty that mirrored the tenebrous forest around him.

However, as expected, there was no response, only silence.

His gaze shifted upward, and the moon's pale light offered no answers either.

Nothing.

Was it possible that the rider had already left? If that was true…

Then a sudden, sharp pain jolted through his leg. He instinctively cast a stunning spell, but it hit nothing. Harry corrected his wand's position, crimson glow of his wand was a sinister omen. Nevertheless, he gripped it with unwavering resolve.

Something moved with unnatural swiftness in the obscurity, and the forest fell back into an eerie, suffocating stillness. Harry's eyes widened and darted in all directions. Abruptly, the sound of wings fluttering reached his ears, sending a shiver coursing down his spine.

He also caught sight of a shadow lurking in the inky blackness. Fear gripped him, yet he remained uncertain whether to flee or hold his ground in the face of the unknown.

The shadow, as swift as an ill wind, vanished momentarily, leaving Harry in a state of breathless anticipation. Then, a lone owl hooted, its mournful cry echoing like a funeral song. As the owl took flight, whispers arose like sinister wraiths, and for a fleeting moment, the icy fingers of dread clenched his heart.

He stood, his breath labouring in the frigid air.

Am I truly doing this? Arose the haunting question.

Shaking his head as if to dispel the encroaching darkness, he bolted in various directions, every step a gamble with his own fate. The shadow moved silently through the darkness.

Without second thoughts, he hurled himself forward, and hurled the bag of food towards the moving shadow, attempting to drive it away. The bag thudded onto the snowy ground.

It closed in on him, and he was thrown to the ground, gripped by terror and breathless.

A massive, serrated claw inched closer to his throat, and with trembling determination, he inched forward, his very life hanging by a thread.

The monstrous presence above him reared back, then altered its course, winging away through the gnarled trees.

Harry glanced around.

Is the forest safe now? Maybe not. Maybe it's too cold. Maybe I should wait a minute.

Suddenly, his eyes widened.

A mournful howl erupted from the woods, and a brilliant fireball blinded him. The wind intensified, sending snow billowing and pounding the ground. The wind seemed to howl with madness. All Harry could see, hear, and feel was the searing blaze.

He stood frozen in terror, petrified, his heart pounding in his chest.

This was the worst possible turn of events.

Instinct spurred him to confront the impending danger, and he hurried toward the source of the commotion. The gale whipped around him, and he dashed amidst the thunderous sounds of snapping branches.

And then he came to an abrupt halt.

Strange sounds echoed, though they were less ominous. Instinctively, his fingers tightened around his wand, and a final gust sent ashes scattering in all directions.

But still, there was no fire.

And then something materialised and loomed before him. Harry gasped in awe and terror.

A couple of feet away, two enormous yellow eyes stared back at him.

The howling - deafening roar, akin to the howl of a tormented soul- continued. He couldn't discern the new threat, but the howl and ashes painted a smoky pattern in the sky.

He yielded, no longer resisting, and simply shut his eyes, enveloping himself in the veil of darkness and dread.

Around him, ashes fluttered gently to the ground, sinking into the frozen earth. Soon, the haunting hoot of an owl reached his ears.

With his eyes still tightly shut, Harry listened to the owl's mournful calls, the dissonant chorus of the forest.

After a few minutes, the sounds slowly faded into a chilling silence.

He opened his eyes to see the owl had landed nearby.

It was Hedwig.

"Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed, his voice betraying a mixture of astonishment and trepidation. "What are you doing here?"

She blinked her large yellow eyes, her gaze unwavering and mysterious, and Harry mirrored her blinking.

Suddenly, Hedwig screeched and retreated into the shadows, leaving Harry struggling to regain his focus. Somehow, the owl flitted about, inspecting a few nearby branches, then gradually inched closer to Harry. Both of them heard the unmistakable sound of a tremor. The owl reacted to it and tried to maintain some distance. In the distance, standing amidst the foreboding forest, was a large mass, a hundred feet away.

Harry stood there, paralyzed in shock, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

The figure drew nearer, its looming presence an ominous shadow in the night.

Harry's heart raced, a cacophony of emotions echoing through his mind.

Hedwig screeched, a mournful wail that seemed to transcend the boundaries of the forest's eerie silence.

And then Harry found himself alone.

The bag, once clutched firmly in his hand, fell onto his lap with an eerie finality.

The mass retreated, vanishing into the forbidding trees, but not before Harry heard that peculiar bubbling and growling. Suddenly, a newfound resolve surged through him, and he steeled himself for what lay ahead.

Hedwig cried out, her call guiding him in a different direction from where the mass had disappeared.

Harry can see where it went, yet the tremor persisted. The sky darkened steadily, an ominous shroud cloaking the forest. He shivered, not just from the biting cold. The tremor reached its zenith, but the wind grew stronger, carrying with it larger, more malevolent snowflakes.

Hedwig flapped her wings, a guardian spirit urging him forward.

I'm so close, I have almost reached my goal… but the dark skies filled with smoke mask the moon.

Hedwig cried out again, a haunting melody in the stillness of the forest.

Harry ignored her, retrieved the bag, and resolutely followed the path the mass had taken, his steps purposeful and unwavering.

The figure materialised before him, an enigmatic entity from the depths of his nightmares.

Harry stared at the creature, his eyes widening in a horrifying realisation.

It was a colossal reptilian behemoth, its wings unfurled and a serpentine tail coiled beneath its immense form.

A deafening roar, like the wrathful cry of thunder itself, echoed through the forest, sending shockwaves of terror rippling through Harry's being.

He was dumbfounded, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

The dragon roared once more, its gaping maw revealing a menacing array of razor-sharp teeth.

A chill more profound than the depths of the Forbidden Forest coursed down Harry's spine, a chilling understanding gripping him.

This is the moment when I will die.

But then, in an unexpected twist, the dragon spun around him, the wind of its passage a torrent of dread and anticipation. It soared away, disappearing into the shadowy depths of the forest.

Harry was left bewildered, the questions that burned in his mind unanswered.

Why hadn't it attacked? What was happening?

He fought against the never-ending wind's force, struggling to maintain his footing. His steps faltered as he attempted to follow the dragon's elusive path.

Exhausted and unable to move, found himself beneath a fallen tree beside a murky pond. He fought to stay conscious. Despite his resolute efforts, the irresistible call of slumber gradually overcame him. His mind descended into the unfathomable lullaby of the forest, and he was drawn into the abyss of night.

Not everything is how it seems.