Chapter One- Moonlight

Harry woke with a start. The surrounding blackness crushed in on him as the midnight air froze his bare skin. His heavy breath was the only thing that stirred the still surroundings. He reached for his water and found it to be empty. Sighing, he swung his legs round and pulled back the covers, gasping as the chilling spirit grasped his skin. Grabbing his glass he ran to the bathroom, eager to jump back into the warm bed covers. Growing up as a muggle gave him habits that were hard it break. For instance, he forgot he could just charm water into the glass. The square porcelain sink sparkled even in the dim light as the water trickled into the cup. The bathroom was small and cosy, not posh, but homely. A bath stood in the corner, with a toilet and sink on the opposite side. A medicine cabinet adorned the wall above the sink. He gazed into the murky mirror and scowled at what he saw. Green eyes, tanned-ish skin and black, longish, messy hair with an overgrown fringe. Average. Nothing special. And short. He couldn't see the bottom half of his face. It annoyed him as the other boys in his dorm could see perfectly. Ron even had to duck to see the top of his head. Years of neglect from his "guardians" had seen to his small frame. It was extremely annoying, having all your roommates taller than you, and most of your female friends.

Suddenly a chill ran straight down his spine. Harry crinkled his eyebrows. The room seemed to be darker. Much darker, getting more so every second. The room faded just like Harry's calmness. Beads of sweat seeped from Harry's skin as he wildly searched the room for a logical reason for the sudden blackness. The silence gripped his windpipes, suffocating him in his panic. Why was this happening? It couldn't be. Nothing like this, not at Hogwarts. The last time this happened he was with Dudley with the dementors. More shudders caused Harry's hairs to stand up on the back of his neck. Or was it the feeling of another presence in the room that did that? Something caught his eye to his right and he swung around. He saw his own reflection. He glared at himself. Why did he allow himself to get so worked up over nothing? He released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and laughed. God, he was so stupid getting so worked up. He picked up the forgotten glass from the sink and started to refill it, smiling an embarrassed smile. Luckily no one saw him freak out. Harry impulsively looked into the mirror and within seconds a black shadow emerged behind him, grabbed his neck and pulled him into unconsciousness.

Fluttering gracefully, Harry opened his eyes to something he had never seen before. Well, he didn't make a habit of lying on the bathroom floor at 2 o'clock in the morning. Sitting up he crinkled his eyebrows trying to remember how he had got there. However, he sat up much to quickly and his head swirled like a whirlpool.

"What the…? What the hell had happened?" As he tried to get up he noticed that his hip was wet. "Oh crap, I didn't… did I?"

In shock he hesitantly looked down. He released a breath as he realised that he hadn't wet himself, but had dropped the glass. Slowly getting up (for his head was still spinning) he picked up the shattered remains. Little shining pieces glittered in the silver moonlight, coming in from the open window. Hang on, why was it open? Weird. Harry made a mental note to shut it. A sharp pain in his finger alerted him to the glass. Trickles of blood leaked form a fresh wound, soon dribbling down his finger and over his hand. Through instinct Harry licked the blood off his hand, put his finger in his mouth and sucked. It was a few seconds more before Harry released his finger in shock. Normally the mere sight of blood, even a parchment cut was enough to make his knees buckle, let alone this much blood. And usually the taste made him sick. So how was he able to stand so solidly and drink his own blood? He looked at the wound more intently; blood still leaking from it. There was a clean slit in the skin of his index finger, about a centimetre long. Harry gazed in wonder as the two sides of the cut came together and started to heal itself. Pure shock graced Harry's face as he watched the wound become a red blemish, then fade as if nothing had ever been there. At this point, the boy started to freak out a bit.

"Ah, it's ok, I know what happened. That bump to the head was just a little to hard and its messing with my mind."

Running a slender hand along the wall for support, he made his way back to his four-poster and got in. The warmth had long left the sheets. Pulling it right up to his chin, Harry rolled over.

"If I just go to sleep, then this will all be better by morning. Probably."