Athena Lockhart is haunted by the disappearance of her brother Jacob. With everyone thinking she's cursed too and the foul Merula Snyde willing to make her life at Hogwarts a living hell, can she survive school, find the Cursed Vaults and uncover wh...
DISCLAIMER! This story is based on the game Hogwarts Mystery. A few characters are mine, therefore original, and a few are borrowed from the game and they belong to J. K. Rowling, Jam City and Portkey Games. Some happenings are based on the game and a lot are my own concept. Some lines are from the game, in order for me to remain true to the original story, but you'll notice that I made some alterations along it. That's due to the fact that I'm not following the game one hundred percent, because somethings just don't make sense to me.
N/A: Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for choosing this story to read and I hope you enjoy it. I want to let you know that I am reviewing every chapter and improving my writing, so it may look a little different from the one I'm posting on Fanfiction.net. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and leave a comment so I can know your thoughts on it. If there are any typos or mispelling errors, let me know.
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They've promised that dreams can come true, but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams too.
I do love quotes. I live by the wisdom buried beneath the words of those who found the truth amidst every breath. Oscar Wilde is one of the immortal souls whose phrases I live by. Would it surprise you if I tell you that there's a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray underneath my pillow at this very moment? When I first read it, I was nine years old. My father said it wasn't a reading suited for a child. Thankfully, my mother disagreed.
This story starts, as most scary stories, with a nightmare. They are close friends of mine, the nightmares. I think everyone, in a moment or another, is doomed to experience the uneasiness of bad dreams. Whether you're just a child, flickering your eyelids and trembling under the covers with the unceasing image of a monster that never tires to torment your imaginative mind, or just a puppy that is afraid of the umbrella rested against the wall, the undeniable truth is that nightmares come for everyone.
This specific night, I'm not dreaming of monsters. There are no ghosts lurking in the shadows... no demons hiding underneath the bed. The swirling sceneries are dark and sinister and lead me to shadowy corner of my unconsciousness, until I can no longer leave. I guess they like it that way. The nightmares. They enjoy having me hostage. The find pleasure in the fear and hopelessness and in the woeful cold that comes with it. They freeze my soul like water from a wintery lake, piercing my skin like a thousand needles, leaving me terribly breathless. I am being haunted by those images ever since he left.
Jacob.
I wake up, drenched in sweat. My t-shirt is glued to my sweaty back and my heart is beating so fast that I feel afraid it might explode from the inside out. The tears fall unceasingly down my cheeks and I try to wipe them with the back of my hand. I look around, longing for the comfort of knowing that I am wide awake, safe in my own bedroom, and that the worst – whatever it was – is gone. In the dim light, I can see the outline of my wardrobe. Next to it, I can identify the pens and pencils in the mug over the desk and the pile of books next to it. Alice in Wonderland. The Secret Garden. Frankenstein. I had read them during the summer, but felt too lazy to put them back in the bookshelf. I rub my arms, trying to find any kind of warmth, but it's no use. I feel as if I am buried in snow.
