Harry awoke to little whispers, hushed voices speaking almost silently to eachother- it sounded like a foreign language. He would later learn this is the language of Better Living.
Blue light had filtered through his eyelids and he slowly opened his eyes, his hand feeling for his glasses. When his eyes opened, he gasped, even if it was blurry.
A form, a moving, blue form trotting around the room, chuckles and the aura of mechievience radiant off of the beast, or spirit?
Harry put his glasses on his face as the being trotted over his bed, bowing their head as Harry sat up. He warily touched the blue light, but he felt something solid, and as soon as he did, the warping blue beams radiating off the being ran up Harrys arm, and he was asleep again.
It was cold, it was a tunnel with light at the end.
Of course, that could be a train coming right for you.
YOU ARE READING
The Cold of Slytherin
FanfictionThe smooth life of a boy has a chance to change, for better or worse, as a friendly acquaintance enters his life. A spirit of some sort, smiling and chuckling but with no face. As soon as Harry touches them, he's sent to the past.
