Cold Fear

Priscilla Hardwig was beyond excited. She had just turned eleven exactly a month ago and had been invited to school at Hogwarts a few days after.

This was what she had been waiting for all of her life. She had heard the tales of the legendary wizard, Professor Dumbledore, and the even more fascinating rumors of the boy who lived, Harry Potter. She had even gotten a glimpse of him as she was boarding the train. It had been the best moment of her young life.

But now she was asleep, her fellow first year students chatting in the compartment around her.

She was having good dreams of playing Quidditch alongside Harry Potter when a great jolt woke her up with a yelp. She looked to the other children and found their eyes were wide with worry.

Olivia Spokes, a brown skinned girl with curly hair and glasses, was the first to speak. “What was that?” she asked.

Ain Yinn, an Asian boy with dark hair tied back into a short ponytail was staring out the window. “The train has stopped,” he said. His small voice was shaking with fear.

Toby Weers, a blond haired boy who wore a cord necklace, opened the door to the compartment and peeked his head outside. Priscilla intently watched him. When he sat back down he grabbed a fistful of jellies and shoved them into his mouth.

“Everything seems fine,” he said through a mouthful of candy.

Then the train jolted again. Priscilla yelped. “What’s going on?” she asked.

All of a sudden their compartment turned ice cold. Priscilla wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. Toby’s chewing mouth was seeping white vapor.

“What h-happened to the temperature?” Olivia asked.

Ain shook his head. “I don’t know.”

A strange presence suddenly darkened the compartment. Priscilla slowly looked to the door. A figure clothed in darkness from head to toe lingered at the edge of their compartment.

Ain gasped. “That’s a Dementor.”

Priscilla couldn’t respond. She was frozen in horror as she watched the nightmarish entity turning the handle to their compartment. As the door slid open with a hiss and the Dementor’s spindly grey hand curled into view she felt like she wanted to scream but somehow couldn’t.

The Dementor floated into full view, revealing its terrifying form. She pressed herself against the cushion, tears streaking their way down her pale cheeks.

The Dementor’s dark cowl focused on each of them and as it pointed its faceless gaze on her she felt immensely sad. As if all joy in the world had been sucked away. And then, for some reason, the cloaked terror moved on, leaving the four children frozen in its wake.

Priscilla stared at the space where the Dementor had been just a moment before for a few seconds. And then the horror got the better of her as she fell unconscious.

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