My eyes can't see beyond the darkness of the forest I'm in… The thick-barked trees are so tall that they don't let any light through.
The caws of crows and the hoots of owls echo all around, and the footsteps of people running surround me. They're behind me, they're around me—I'm trapped. I can't stop. If I do, they'll catch me.
"Dion, over here, quickly!"—a female voice that makes my heart pound as I hear her shouting between the trees—"Follow my voice, you're almost there, don't stop, run!"
I feel my body gaining more strength every time her voice gets closer. It's her, I'm sure of it. She's here. I have to find her. I can't leave her alone—not again. I have to reach her before they catch her.
"Run, Dion! They're almost here, run!" the girl cries desperately.
"Wait for me, I'm coming! Don't let them see you. Please don't leave without me."
Desperation runs through me, tears streaming down my face as I realize the more I run, the farther her voice seems to fade.
Helplessness floods me, and suddenly, the forest falls into complete silence.
No screams, no running, no animals, not even the wind. A silence so total it makes me freeze in place.
"You're too late, Dion. You couldn't save us. They got here first…"—her voice breaks the silence that lasted only a few seconds, but now it's calmer, more melancholic—"It's all your fault… You abandoned us. You chose to leave first and left us behind. Now, there's no one left." Her voice cracks more with every word, her sobs breaking through.
"No! I didn't mean to… I'll find you, I swear… Just keep talking, I'll follow you, please, don't leave me."
The crying grows louder, and a violent gust of wind shakes the trees, sending leaves into a swirling storm around me.
"No, Dion. It's too late!"—the girl screams, her face pale, blood dripping from her eyes like tears. Her blonde hair had turned a white shade, as if all its brightness had vanished. The image vanishes instantly, tearing my heart apart.
"It's too late,"—another voice speaks. This one is more like a boy's, coming closer quickly. A familiar voice… Patrick's voice.
"Dion, wake up! God, we're late for class, we overslept, hurry!"—Patrick grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard.
I open my eyes to see bunk beds with Ravenclaw crests on the sheets and covers, and my mind clicks back to where I am.
"Shit."
"Exactly, Dion. God, shit—we overslept! Move!" says Patrick, shoving his shoes on, forcing them until they fit. "Go shower quickly, I'll get the books and quills ready. Run!"
Without a second's hesitation, I leap out of bed, grab my towel, and sprint to the bathroom. With no time to brush my teeth, I grab my toothbrush and toothpaste. When I come back out, Patrick starts tossing clothes at me so I can get dressed fast.
Once dressed, I shove the toothbrush and toothpaste into my robe pocket. Patrick bolts out of the room before me, heading toward Ravenclaw's common room.
He races down the moving staircases at top speed, even jumping between them with a skill I didn't expect. I follow without question, trusting he knows where he's going—while I barely remember the hall from last night's feast.
"Shit, what happened? Why didn't they wake us up?" Patrick asks indignantly.
"Seems we can't rely on them, Patrick. Right now we're seriously late, so focus—we need to cut through."
Turning a corner, Patrick slams hard into someone else who was also running. Their books scatter everywhere, and both fall to the floor.
"What's wrong with you, idiot? Watch where you're going!" Patrick shouts aggressively—something I never expected from him.
"Hey, calm down, man, watch it yourself."
Patrick looks up to see a girl with short dark hair, wearing the same Ravenclaw crest on her robes. Her face is quite pretty, with green eyes and a small scar across her eyebrow. To me, she looks fragile, feminine, likely our age…
"What did you just say, idiot? You called me an idiot? Who do you think you are—are you looking for me to finish you off right now?" the girl snaps, furious at Patrick's words.
I take it back… I remember this girl from the feast last night.
(The night before, Great Hall)
After the Sorting Ceremony, we, the new students, stayed seated. Our robes immediately and in perfect sync stitched themselves with our house crests. Everything seemed calm until the Headmaster rose to his feet, his face glowing with a broad smile, and gave a brief speech with a few warnings about the castle and its surroundings.
"Welcome, dear students, to this night! We begin another school year, as tradition demands, and now—it's time to enjoy one of the best moments of the evening: the Great Feast! Welcome to Hogwarts, and enjoy—!"
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was abruptly interrupted by Professor McGonagall, who leaned in to whisper something in his ear again.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot. New students must remember: under no circumstances may you enter the Forbidden Forest. This is to prevent accidents and to ensure your safety. Also, per the caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch, the third-floor corridor is off-limits. So be mindful of where you wander. That goes for returning students as well."
With a small nod, Professor McGonagall confirmed that that was all, and Dumbledore continued.
"Now then—Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! And to our dear professors—thank you! Welcome to Hogwarts, and let the feast begin!" Dumbledore shouted.
"Oh, so that's their names… People say those are the names of the house-elves in charge of the kitchen, though no one's ever confirmed it—or denied it. Some professors even help at times to prepare such feasts," Patrick explained.
"Incredible."
With a slam, the great doors opened, and an incredible number of dishes and platters floated in, soaring toward all four student tables and the staff's high table.
The sheer amount of food was unbelievable. Plates from every corner of the world.
"Look at that, Dion—there's everything! Pumpkin juice, meat pies, tripe, stew, fried sausages, roast beef and chicken, shepherd's pie, Cornish pasties, lamb chops, steak and kidney pudding, black pudding, jelly slugs, fizzing whizbees, baked pumpkin, roast potatoes, chips, peas, carrots, gravy, cream tart, treacle tart, chocolate éclairs, jam doughnuts, rice pudding, treacle toffee, pork chops, mashed potatoes, porridge, eggs and bacon, buttered toast with jam, cornflakes, turkey sandwiches, eggnog, trifle… Do the other tables have the same?" Patrick asked, craning his neck to peek.
Some students couldn't contain themselves and immediately started stuffing their mouths with whatever they could grab, as if they'd forgotten cutlery existed. Among them—that same girl, who looked like a rabid chihuahua fighting for her food.
"Dion, eat! Take advantage, or they'll leave you nothing. Well… maybe not nothing, there's plenty, but you might miss something you'd want to try," Patrick said, cheeks bulging with food like a squirrel.
As I glanced at the staff table, Patrick began explaining each professor one by one—but honestly, I couldn't focus as much as I wanted to, with all the noise swirling around us.