𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑

Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Ominous Visions

Harry barely remembered getting back to his four-poster, his mind numb as it shut down with exhaustion the moment his head hit the pillow. He simply wanted to sleep and forget the fact that Draco might never talk to him again, but nothing could prepare him for the nightmare that greeted him.

He saw flashes of long platinum hair and a dark mark burning into pale skin. Voldemort was pleased and unbridled excitement ran through his veins like a heady drug. Platinum locks moved to reveal Lucius Malfoy's smirking visage as he stood up from his bow, green light dancing ethereally across the bottom of features.

"My Lord, your spies are in place."

"I see," Voldemort hissed, his tone high and grating.

Voldemort looked down to the source of the green light and Harry's subconscious recoiled at the sight. There, suspended right above a low green-glowing table was a woman's nude body, her chest and stomach sliced open to reveal her organs, sinew, and bone as blood ran down her sides in rivulets. Voldemort chuckled and looked up at the woman's face, and with horror, Harry saw her blinking over red, watery eyes. Her features were etched with terror, her mouth open in a silent scream.

She was being cut open alive.

A foreign surge of vindictive pleasure cut through his own horror, and Voldemort's cold laugh sliced through the rancid air. "I am done with this one. Dispose of it."

"Yes, my lord," Lucius bowed again and Voldemort turned to leave the blackened room, but Lucius's voice stopped him. "My lord, there is something else you should know."

"Yes?" Voldemort hissed, but he did not turn back to look upon Lucius as the man stood behind him.

"Ignus Mortis has just sent me an owl."

"Very well." Voldemort nodded, and Harry could feel his cold curiosity. "Meet me in the drawing room after your work here is done."

"Yes, My Lord."

The woman's blood curdling scream echoed across the walls as whatever spell that had silenced her was taken off, and Harry woke up gasping and trembling. He barely had time to roll over to the side of his bed before he began heaving.

Suddenly the room filled with light and frantic voices, and Harry winced against it all, still retching uncontrollably. His head hurt so much he was pretty sure his scar might be on fire, and belatedly he realized, as he scrubbed trembling hands against his face, that he was drenched in a cold sweat.

"Harry? Harry?"

A warm hand landed on his back, and Harry took in a shaky breath, a lump pushing up his throat as his stomach tightened forebodingly. He heaved again, this time releasing nothing from his emptied stomach but water, and the hand on his back twitched.

"Blimey! What's wrong with him?"

"One of you lot get Professor McGonagall, quickly!"

Someone left the room, their heavy footfalls conspicuously loud as Harry's head throbbed with pain until they were out the door.

Harry heaved again, his vision getting hazy with sweat beading down his face and mingling with his tears. He could feel someone's hand rubbing soothingly on his sweat-slicked back.

"It's going to be all right, mate, I'm here. Just let it out." Ron's voice trembled slightly.

Harry heaved again, his throat now raw with bile and acid from his stomach, and he had to bite back a sob as a sharp pain lanced through his forehead that made him see stars.