Deepest desire (a Harry Potter fanfic) book 2

chapter three

I was walking down the hall way looking for somewhere to go, they where empty because everyone was in their dorm’s or common-rooms. My snake was sitting on my shoulder, whispering something about him seeing another snake today an anaconda I think, but I wasn’t really paying attention something didn’t feel right. I was going around the corner and I heard a voice, quite unlike my snake’s voice but I could tell it was still a snake. It was a voice to chill the bone-marrow, a voice if breath-taking, ice cold venom.

‘Come … come to me … let me rip you … let me tear you … let me kill you …’

I stopped walking and froze in fear, my snake hissed threateningly and nervously. I pulled my wand out of my robe pocket and cast Lumos so I could see better, here was no sound coming from any where, the sudden silence scared me and I started to run. I ran back down the hall to the portal behind the painting and used the passage that my Mother made and went back to my room. I sat on my bed gasping, the voice was still in the back of my mind, that cold spine chilling voice.

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the matron, was kept busy by a sudden spat of colds among the staff and students; luckily I haven’t got sick yet. I’m told that Madam Pomfrey’s Pepperup potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterwards.

Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for four days on end; the lake rose and the flower beds turned into muddy streams. Oliver Wood’s enthusiasm for regular training sessions, Fred and George said, had not dampened, which must have been why Harry was to be found, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Hallowe’en, returning to the Gryffindor tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.

It wasn’t the best of fun training for me either, not that I thought it would be, but only Draco was ok with the idea of me being on the team, everyone else didn’t like it and Flint, who only cared about winning knew that I was the better Keeper so he was trying to get used to it. The Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones were fast but mine was faster, we were shooting through the air like jump-jets.           

By the time Hallowe’en arrived, the rest of the school were happily anticipating their Hallowe’en feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with live bats, vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns enough for three men to sit in and there were rumours that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.  

At the feast I was distracted, something about the voice I heard and been nagging at the back of my mind, when it was around time for the second helping of puddings I excused myself because of a head ache.

The passage way was cold and dark with everyone in the hall, I walked down not really paying any attention to where I was going until I hear a voice.

“… rip … tear … kill …”

The same murderous voice that had been in the foremost of my mind.

I stopped and listened for the slightest sound.

“… soo hungry … for so long …”

The voice was still here, but rising to the other floor. Filled with fear but to stubborn to stop I ran up the stairs.

“… I smell blood … I SMELL BLOOD!”

My mouth went dry, it’s going to kill.

I hurtled around the corner into the last, deserted passage. There were hard foot steps coming from up ahead and I stopped to listen.

“Harry, what was that all about?” I could tell it was Ron. “I couldn’t hear anything …”

But someone gasped.