Harry James Potter (prophecychild) wrote in incompletedata, @ 2018-09-25 07:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | harry potter: harry potter |
Who: Harry Potter
When: ???
Where: The Bad Place
What: Bad stuff
The silence was deafening, that was the worst thing. There was nothing to see in any direction, just grassy, boggy marshland. He couldn't remember how he had gotten here. He could feel his heart pounding but the sound was just as muffled as the air; he felt that as the sounds of his own body were muted, he forgot to breathe, as though the soundless, black sky was sucking the air from his lungs. He stepped carefully, trying to find the firmer places in the ground. Cold mud oozed into his shoes until he staggered back to firmer ground. "Hello?" he called out, and his voice seemed to vanish on the air. "Hello?" He walked for what seemed like hours. Just as he was beginning to despair of ever seeing anything but grey marshes, he caught a flash of colour in the distance. "Mum?" he gasped, and almost fell in his sudden rush forward. "Harry!" Was that Lily? The voice sounded familiar. "I'm coming!" He ran, calling out, but the red-haired woman in the distance didn't turn to look at him. Was she somehow stuck? From what he could see she was barefoot, standing above the grass. It seemed to take an age to reach her, and he nearly fell into the bog twice. "Mum, is that you?" he called, and reached out, only to draw his hand back with a gasp as she turned to look at him, revealing blank, colourless eyes. Before he could move, the grass around his feet writhed as though swept by a strong wind, and turned black as though it had been burned. It spread around him like a stain, and vines emerged from the earth to wind around his feet. He tried to scramble free, but the vines tightened around his ankles and dragged him back. Devil's Snare, he thought, desperately. I need... I need... "Incendio!" he gasped, or he tried, but almost nothing came out of his mouth. He reached in vain for a wand that was not there. "Help me," he called out, but the red-haired woman was twisting and changing just like the ground under his feet, her blank features contorting into a wrinkled, gnarled sneer. The vines were winding around her as well, but she did not struggle; to Harry it seemed that she was somehow a part of the creature that was already wound tight around Harry's upper thighs. His feet were sinking into the mud, and he somehow knew that before long it would drag him all the way under. Where's Neville when you need him, he thought, even through the haze of fear. He would have given anything for Neville, or Hermione, or Ron... "Incendio!" he shouted into the void. But of course he would end up dying alone. His waist, his chest, his arms. He just never thought it would be like this. He closed his eyes and thought, for the first time in his life: I want to go home. |