What Happened Next

Prologue

Run.

He thought frantically as he stood in front of a roaring Fiendfyre. He looked around him, searching for the door or any way out, but all he could see is fire. Heat waves engulf him, making his eyes water and his lungs burn. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe.

Where are they? They are with him; they are his responsibility, his friends. But he is alone now; all alone in the middle of this cursed fire.

He looked around again, thinking hard, his heart beating wildly. How could he escape? The fire, it's starting creep closer to him.

Then he saw the door to his left. He started to run towards it. He's almost there... just a little more. He tried his best to run faster, but the door seems to get farther.

He was about a foot away from the door, arm stretched out to grab its knob, when it suddenly flew open. There, standing in the middle of his way out, is a foreboding figure of his father. He stopped in his tracks, horrified as his father's face becomes pale and snakelike, his eyes turning red.

"You cannot outrun us. Your friends are dead. Because of you. You did all this," the voice of his father said as the snakelike face of Voldemort smiled grotesquely at him.

Then the face transformed back to his father's, then flicked back to the snakelike face of Voldemort.

He stood frozen, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. Behind him, he can still feel the heat of the fire. In front of him stood his worst fear. Where will he go? What will he do?

"Choose. Join us or die."

No. No. Not again. Never again will I come back. I'd rather die here than come back.

He thought as he looked defiantly at the face morphing back and forth from his father's face to Voldemort's face in front of him. He started to walk backwards. He felt the intensity of the fire at his back. Before the flames engulf him, he saw a green light streak straight towards him from his father's wand.

As it was about to hit his chest, the booming sound of thunder woke him up.

He sat up and looked wildly around him. The smell of singed hair and ozone lingered in the air. He looked at his arms, expecting to see burn marks, but he found nothing. His heart is still racing, as if he really did run. Catching his breath, he sighed and rubbed his face. He slowly stood up and looked around his dark apartment. He is alone. He looked at the clock beside his bed, it is past midnight. He walked towards the window and looked out.

Outside, a storm is raging. The wind is howling as rain poured down heavily. Lightning flashed and a loud thunder followed. He sighed once more and continued to look unseeing outside, willing his heart and breathing to calm down and return to normal.

It's just another nightmare. Nothing new. They're gone, and no one knows where you are.

He stood still in front of the window as rain continued to pour outside.

No one will find me here.