Dark Temptations: Prologue.

Glasya woke with all her senses blocked by the smoke slowly filling the room where she had lain

in deep sleep.
“****,’’ she said a little louder then she meant to, “If I’ve told these kids once, I’ve told him a

thousand times, not to play exploding snap in the common room; they’re going to burn down the

whole place one of these days! Oh if I ever get my hands on those Weasley twins, starting a joke

shop like that and importing all over the world…” She continued to mutter as she headed towards

the source of the smoke, but she stopped short as she approached the main hall.
The tapestries hanging on the wall, containing pictures of great half wizards, were burning, curling

slowly in the dancing flames devouring them. The tables smoked as the fire crept over them. She

gasped, knowing this was no ordinary fire, and ran to the girls sleeping quarters.
A large picture of a werewolf had guarded the door, springing to life at the sight of intruders; it

was gone. The fragment lie around the tiled floor and in the center of the tatters, as if an angel

surrounded by flowers, laid a little girl… One of the students. Her body was surrounded by

blood, dripping into pools on the floor. Her little limbs were contorted in all directions that, if she

were yet alive, would be physically impossible; even for one like her.
Glasya let out a low moan of mourning for the little girl before continuing into the others rooms.

She tore into the common room to check on the others, her face dripping in sweat. To her

absolute horror she saw all the girls had met the same fate as the first. She closed her eyes,

anguish taking over her mind, but she forced her eyes open again.
As she walked among the dead, she noticed one little girl who had her hand in front of her face,

as if protecting it. Glasya stared at ht e hand, dripping with a large amount of blood onto the

floor, and terror, greater then anything she had felt in her life consumed her.
“That symbol…” she said, dropping the hand as if it hurt her, “ it can’t be..." she turned and fled

towards the boys quarters.
Those monsters…they were looking for me. This is my fault…

As she ran away from the girl’s rooms, the smoke thinned telling her the boys were more then

likely safe. She ran into a dark hall, closing the door behind her.
“Lumos todos.” She whispered. The lights illuminated down the hall as she passed. She ignored

the feeling that was creeping over her as she ran, turning one corner after another until she ran into

something. That something was Tamara. She was a student, as big and sturdy as a wall. The

impact caused Glasya to fall to the ground, rubbing her head.
“What are you doing here!” Glasya yelled, not sure if she felt more of anger or relief.
“We...uh..we.” Tamara stuttered not knowing how to answer; she had never seen Glasya so angry

before.
“We were looking for you!” a smaller girl yelled back, she was hardly five feet tall, “And don’t

yell at Tamara, she hasn’t done anything wrong." The girl’s short goldan hair stood about her icy

purple eyes, shining with frustration.
“Sorry Parisa.” Glasya panted, she was still breathless from her sprint down the corridor, “Who

else is here? Tell me.” She commanded, unable to calm herself down.
“Tamara, Parisa, Aquina, Crystal, Rose, and I.” A girl stated coming from a door near them with

another girl. The two looked strangely alike.
“God so few…” Glasya whispered to herself. She raised her head, “Good, well not good, well

what I mean is…” she seemed to give up on that statement and moved onto another, “Tamara,

Parisa go wake up the boys.” The two nodded and ran of into the door the girls had emerged

from. “Uh Aquina, Crystal call the emergency contact number four. Tell them they need to get

here now. Rose, Violet come with me, we need to search for other survivors…we have to leave

as soon as possible… Our school isn’t safe anymore.” And she turned, trying to put the fear that

they might still be here…he might still be hear, and walked away without anymore of an

explanation.


Thousands of miles away, somewhere in England, a boy with dark hair and pale green eyes sat up

in bed, rubbing the burning scar on his forehead and gasping for breath. His nightshirt was

drenched in a cold sweat, while his head burned with the reality of the dream. He shivered as he

though of it… as he saw the men hold alit wand to the large house… or was it a school? It didn’t

matter to him. The only thing that mattered to him now was one thing, one person…

Voldemort…