snakes and lions

Chapter 11

Flickers and flashbacks of previous living nightmares that Harry had encountered appeared and disappeared frantically in his mind. His house back in Godric's hollow. "Please! Take me, not him! Spare him, please!" pleaded Lily. A flash of green light that Harry knew more well than he should do, and his mother was gone. The scene shifted.

He was in the graveyard again.
"Kill the spare," the voice hissed. A flash of green light. Cedric was gone. The scene shifted. He was in the department of mysteries again by the vail.
"Avada Kedavra!" screeched Bellatrix Lestrange from nearby. A flash of green light. Sirius was gone. The scene shifted. He was back in Privet Drive again. He was younger- it was a memory.

"Harry! Come here at once!" screeched his aunt. Young Harry, draped in his cousin's dirty old clothes, emerged from his bedroom - the cupboard under the stairs.
"The floors aren't clean, you filthy brat. Clean them," snapped Petunia Dursley. Harry got down onto his knees silently and began scrubbing with the wiry, damp sponge his aunt shoved into his bony hands. He felt a slap on the head as more punishment, but it didn't feel unfamiliar. The scene shifted.

This time he was back in the familiar cellar. The Weasley's and Hermione were tied up with rope and but Voldemort seemed interested in a particular person struggling on the ground. A flash of green light, and the weak, tortured, worthless boy fell lifeless. Harry screamed with pain, but not a pain caused by being hurt. The pain of losing someone he loved.

Voldemort merely stepped over Draco's dead body as if he was just a piece of bloody roadkill. He turned to the Ron. Harry saw the scratches and scars on his face, his usually bright and fiery hair was now torn out at places and so dirty that it was as black as Harry's. The eyes that were usually so full of fun and laughter, looked like they hadn't felt happiness in the longest of times. The boy could hardly recognise his best friend. A flash of green light. Ron was gone.

Hermione was next. She was just as unrecognisable as Ron. Her usual bushy brown hair was now rough and full of dirt and blood. It was torn out to reveal patches of her scalp, and her always hopeful, excited, but slightly worried eyes, were now full of nothing but terror.
"Crucio!" cackled Voldemort. Hermione wailed in agony. When Harry saw his other best friend in this much pain, he leapt forwards to try and save her. But he couldn't. He had been bound by some invisible charm. The harder he strained to get out, the tighter they pulled, and he began to lose his breath. A flash of green light. Hermione was gone.

The Dark Lord continued to kill of the rest of the Weasley family. One by one. Fred was next - the look on George's face after seeing his other half being killed innocently in front of him was enough to make Harry want to sacrifice his life on the spot. George followed. Then Percy, Bill, Arthur and Charlie. Ginny was killed next, after watching all of her brothers being murdered in front of her horror-filled eyes. Molly was left. She looked like a ghost. All the happiness and hope at all had completely drained from her pale face. She didn't look human.

Voldemort raised his wand to murder his last victim, but the scene shifted. Harry was flying through clouds of black smoke. Images flashed passed, of death eaters, dementors, death, tortured family, Draco, Azkaban - they were images of his past. But Harry didn't know, they could be images of his future. . .

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was drenched, head to toe, in a pool of his own sweat. Tears streamed down his pale cheeks. He felt pain in his hands from where he clenched them so tight. The taste of blood in his mouth from where he had been biting his tongue. The dry soreness of his throat, from when he had been screaming in his nightmares.