dread drɛd/ verb
1. anticipate with great apprehension or fear.
Rain pelted on the window, begging to break through the glass. Bonnie Livingston looked at the last empty square on the calendar.
Tomorrow would bring the first of September and would take her
to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She savoured the feeling of the rough carpet underneath her, the sound of the outside street, the glare of passing headlights on her window; everything that made her home hers. The undertakers of her old life assured her that she would soon consider Hogwarts a home from home however Bonnie didn't much trust the strange intruders.
A few weeks ago a boy named Harry Potter and the strangest man she had ever seen appeared ,quite suddenly, in front of the telly. Her mother had shrieked, her father dropped his cup and the cat hadn't returned since. The man, who introduced himself as Dumbledore headmaster of Hogwarts, apologised profusely for not landing on the door step which he swore he intended to. The apologies were lost on the Livingston family who were still frozen with the shock of it all. From there Bonnies world was picked up, turned upside down and shaken until nothing was in the right place and she doubted they ever would be again.
The boy Harry had been alright, he was her age, quite and clearly nearly as uncomfortable with the situation as she was. He had apparently experienced a very similar situation to hers. Although he had been 11 when he found out he was wizard and Bonnie was 16. For five years he had been learning about magic while she was completely ignorant of its existence. If it hadn't been for the dreaded incident that had took place at the beginning of the year then the magic world would have never known about her. Bonnie thought she liked it better when she was a medical miracle not a magical being.
Draco Malfoy could hear the thud of the rain on the window like the word in his head that whispered over and over; the word that made him crazy. It made him wake up in the middle of the night screaming. It made him want to carve out the mark from his arm. Draco would never admit to the vast amount of spells, potions and other forms of magic he had used in an attempt to take away the Dark Mark and forever silence that voice and that word. It was his voice. The Dark Lords. And he only ever had one instruction:
"Kill"
