What Lies Ahead
Harry Potter arrived at the burrow after a long summer of torture with the Dursleys. The air was thick with chaos from the Weasleys and their friendly banter. What he couldn't shake off was a feeling of dread that had been biting at him the moment he arrived at the Burrow. He typically loved the summer with the Weasleys, but this year was different- something was weird. The usual relief of being away from the Dursleys and with his friends was darkened by a looming sense of oddity.
Sitting by the fire in the living room of the burrow, Harry was lost in thought. The flames were wild and seemed to mock his sense of restlessness, offering no explanation to his frustration. Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses. Something was off and he couldn’t place what.
“Hiya Harry!”
The suddenness of the voice broke his train of thought. Before Harry could react, he felt something digging into his left shoulder. Harry looked up and saw George looming over him with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face.
“What's up?” George said with a casualness in his voice “You look like you saw a ghost, or worse- a teacher!”
Harry let out a slight chuckle, and with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes “Nothing. Just thinking.”
“Well don’t think too hard, my dearest Harrykins, you’re going to start smoking from the ears!” George teases with a goofy grin and ruffling Harry's hair. He looked around the room and tried to see into the hallway to see if anyone was coming.
Satisfied that they were alone, George leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear “Fred and I found something in the attic. It’s well… not the type of thing you see every day.” His grin widened more than Harry thought was humanly possible. “I can’t explain right now, just come up to the attic with me.”
“Come on Harry, you have to hurry we don’t have all day.” George called over his shoulder bustling up the stairs barely containing his excitement. His eyes sparkling with the joy he had only seen on the face of an overjoyed child on Christmas morning.
Harry quickened his pace, Struggling to keep up as George was practically sprinting up the stairs. By the time Harry had reached the top of the steps George already had his hand resting on the knob waiting to show the grand reveal to Harry, practically jumping up and down in his impatient attempt to wait for Harry.
“You ready to be amazed Harrykins? George’s eyes glimmered with mischief, as though he was holding in the world's biggest secret that he couldn’t contain anymore.
Harry sighed with his hand resting on his knees, looked up and nodded “Well I’m here aren't I?”
With a dramatic flourish, George opened the door to reveal… an attic. A normal attic. Dust floated and glistened lazily through the beams of sunlight shining through the small windows. Broken furniture and boxes scattered across the floor, everything was covered in cobwebs marking the years of neglect. It was not special like what George had promised.
George, however, did not seem to mind or even notice Harry's disappointment. George lowered his voice, “Don’t worry Harry it’s not what it seems.” His voice was replaced with a hint of mystery. Suddenly Fred sprang out in the middle of nowhere, he had something in the nook of his arms.
-
Fred approached with a small box. “Look at what I found, Harry!” His tone was light, as though he had just found a hidden treasure. Harry glanced at the box, but his expression remained blank, the tiredness in his eyes was beginning to seep through, betraying any false sense of excitement.
“Oh wow…” Harry let out a grin, it felt wrong on his face. He stretched his face into one that was supposed to resemble enthusiasm, despite how fake it felt.
George let out a chuckle, practically bouncing out of his socks. “Oh just you wait, open the box Gred- show him!” George's excitement was so uncontained it was like watching a hyperactive child who couldn’t sit still. The eyes on George's face sparkled with unrestrained glee, contrasting the impending pit in Harry's stomach.
With exaggerated flair, Fred opened the lid. “Tada!” he announced, revealing his grand finale. Inside was a necklace—simple, but pretty. A fine chain, and at its center, an emerald pendant that caught the light.
Harry’s eyes lingered on it, but something about it made his skin crawl. “It’s... nice,” he muttered, reaching into the box to take it out. The emerald gleamed unnaturally, cool to the touch at first.
“Ow, damn” Harry flinched, dropping the necklace to the floor. A sharp pain shot through his thumb and up his arm, making him hiss. He bent down to pick it up, his head swirling with confusion.
Harry stumbled backward, blinded, his heart leaping into his throat. The light swallowed him, every instinct telling him to shield his eyes, to turn away—but he couldn’t. It was like he was rooted to the spot.
Then he felt it.
He was falling.
Falling, endlessly. The ground beneath him gave way, and his stomach lurched as if someone had dropped him into an infinite abyss. His heart raced, pounding in his chest. The sensation was sickening, that horrible freefall feeling, like he was plummeting into nothingness, and it stretched on and on.
Hours seemed to pass, but he knew they couldn’t have. He didn’t understand how he was falling—where the floor had gone, or why the air around him felt cold and empty.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, his mind screamed. He tried to catch his breath, but each time he inhaled, the dread grew heavier, pressing against his chest, suffocating him.
What was happening? His thoughts spiraled, but there were no answers.
Fred and George—had they seen the light too? Were they here, falling with him, or had he been separated?
His stomach twisted in knots, an endless pit of dread expanding inside him. Panic gripped him tighter as time slipped away.
His mind kept telling him this couldn’t be real, but everything about it felt too real—the sensation of falling, the crushing weight of fear, the uncertainty gnawing at him.
And yet, there was nothing he could do. Nothing to grab onto, no ground in sight. Just the endless fall, the blinding light, and the overwhelming, gut-wrenching dread that this was only the beginning of something far worse.