Hey everyone, this is my second ever ff so be kind :)

I wasn't sure whether to publish this, but as I did anyway just to gauge the reactions. May not be as quick updating this as my other story XD but would love to hear your responses to inspire me as I only have a rough idea of where this is actually going :)

Hope you enjoy this and the link to review is where it always is! Would really appreciate some feedback as I am not sure what it's like in terms of, well, goodness!

Chapter 1

The night was the darkest of blacks, the starless sky like a void reaching into never ending nothingness. The waning moon watched over the dormant Earth, hiding behind the darkness of the sky as though waiting for something to appear. The trees shuddered as a gush of strong, cold wind fingered the baron branches and carried leaves against their will from the forest floor swirling into the stagnant air. The clouds had run from the sky, scared of the bringing of night as if they knew what was to come; perhaps not now, not that night, but one night and one night soon.

A castle lay ignorant between the trembling trees, a building of grand grey stone with turrets reaching to the heavens and a high wall keeping its secrets locked within. An owl hooted softly in warning and flew, flew as far away as it could. The night was eerily still once more, nothing daring to break the silence in fear of repercussions. Could the girls sleeping soundly in the castle not see what they saw? Could they not feel the suffocating tension in the air? Something was coming.

Xxx

The face was haunting, its eyes black and lifeless like the devil's yet with a glint of something unknown glinting there, mocking her with the delight it symbolised. Suddenly, there was fire; flames danced around her and licked at her heels, chasing her through the darkness and surrounding her body. The heat was so intense it burned, no, it seared her skin and she screamed out, but her voice was caught in her throat. As the flames enveloped her soul, dragging her down into the depths of chaos, everything became a thick fog choking her until...

Constance Hardbroom woke with a start. The dream had been so real, so vivid, that her skin still felt as though it was being blistered by the scorching flames and her head pounded as her eyes adjusted to the gloom of her bedroom. She rose immediately, embarrassed to find her forehead dripping with perspiration and her throat aching from crying out in the night. She always kept enchantments surrounding her room to ensure privacy, and she prayed that the sound barrier she had set up would prevent any shameful confrontations with the headmistress.

Walking into the bathroom, she tied her waves of curly dark hair in a loose plait to keep it from her face and flexed the fingers of her right hand subconsciously. She needed not to utter the words of a spell to conjure a glass of water before her and she drank deeply, trying to shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Even now flashes of the dream reappeared in her mind; more, she feared, than simple recollections. Nothing scared her, she could say that with confidence; well... almost nothing.

The clock on the wall read 2:40 am, and she knew that there was no point in returning to bed. Sighing, she sat at her desk and rubbed her sore arms without a thought. She wanted to dismiss the dream, to brush it off as stress or memories from her childhood; but she was too intelligent for that. It was then that she noticed something, the slightest patch of red, tender skin on her left forearm. It had to be a coincidence, there was no way her dreams could have manifested into reality; yet Constance did not believe in coincidence. Her quick, calculated mind could not allow her to believe in such things as fate and chance and it was then she drew her first conclusion; it was not a dream, but a warning.

As she dressed in the usual long, black dress she wore every day to work as the potions teacher and deputy headmistress of Cackle's Academy, meticulously pulling her wild hair into remission, she knew that the empty sensation pervading in the pit of her stomach would not leave her as the images would. Her mind was racing, a thousand possibilities playing out in her mind like a series of theatrical performances, but there was nothing she could find comfort in to explain the nightmares. There was one chilling aspect of the experience of which she was so unwittingly sure of, however; something was wrong, and something was coming.