Liar. Harry Potter's sister ~ Book 2

chapter twelve

An unnerving, eerie silence hung over me. I seemed to be surrounded in a mist. A fog of some sort. I felt strange though... relaxed. Like I was carefree and holding not a single emotion in the world. As I exhaled, the misty air shattered, like breaking glass, and it parted, swirling in magnificent circles by my sides. The revelation took me by surprise: I've been here before. A long, windowless corridor stood before me. My eyes were fixed ahead, not able to move them. I feel my feet lift of the ground and take a few, slow steps. The cold, smooth floor, sends chills up and down my body when met with my, presumably bare skin. My body continues to move forward, uncontrollably. It's as if I was hypnotised. I couldn't move my eyes. My vision was blurred, and my eyes were relaxed and hazy. As I drew closer and closer to the end of the corridor, I could make out the frame of a black, sleek, door with a silver handle.

I stop.

My eyes still transfixed on this door: more precisely the handle of this door. Silver, shiny and luring. Out of the corner of my eye I see what I assumed was my own hand reaching forward. My fingertips graze the smooth silver, slightly, before my whole hand envelopes the handle, clasping around it's cold, metal surface. It feels strange in my hand. I can't explain it but it just feels... right.

My breath catches in my throat and I wake up with a gasp. My chest rises and falls heavily as my new surroundings come into focus. I stare at the ceiling of my four-poster bed in my dormitory, my eyes wide and my breathing heavy.

That dream again. What is going on? That's twice only this month I've dreamt of that door.

~

Today was the first Quidditch match of the season. I decided not to give my dream any more thoughts than I believed it was worth- I mean it was just a dream, right? Anyway, back to Quidditch- I was rather excited about going to see it because I've never actually watched a proper match before. Harry and Draco were both playing Seeker against each other, along with Ron, who was the new Gryffindor Keeper. I was supporting Gryffindor, of course, but that wouldn't stop me from being happy if Slytherin did win. Honestly I admire anybody who was remotely good enough to make the school teams: I can barely walk in a straight line on my own two feet, let alone fly on a broomstick that's fifty feet in the air. At breakfast, the upcoming match was all anybody could talk about and the mood way way more exuberant than on a normal day of lessons: Harry was happily munching away at some toast, accepting good lucks from people that wandered past, but Ron, however was sitting on the edge of his seat, looking rather jittery and pushing his food around his plate.

"You need to eat some breakfast c'mon," I say, bracingly, pushing his plate closer to him, as I took a sip of my pumpkin juice from my goblet. Ron glared down into his plate, looking as though he was about to face his final meal.

"I must've been mental to do this." He murmurs, "Mental."

"Don't be thick," Harry says, firmly, "It's normal to feel nervous."

"Yeah, you'll be fine." I say, kicking him slightly under the table, as if to give him another nudge to start eating.

"Honestly, I think this is the first time I've seen you not hungry," Hermione says, wrapping a red and gold scarf around her neck. This didn't seem to sit well with Ron, so he scooped up a forkful of scrambled eggs and started chewing it, rather aggressively.

My eyes fall on the Slytherin table: each and every one of them were brandishing green and silver, scarves, hats, banners or gloves and the level of cockiness radiating from their table was remarkable. My eyes scan the table and I find the familiar head of white-blond hair, dressed in a rather flattering set of green Quidditch robes. He looks up and his bright eyes meet mine. I hold my hand up to him, slightly, careful not to draw the attention of my friends and he smiles back at me, fumbling with the front of his robes and covering something with his arm. I frown and look around the table. Every person sat along the table, had a small badge pinned to the front of their clothes. It was in the shape of a crown. I wince slightly to try and work it what the tiny writing says but so couldn't make it out from this far away.