[Special] The Terror Approaches
The hallway was drowned in shadows.
A flickering light crackled every few seconds, barely illuminating the cracked old walls. The air smelled of dust, damp stone, and something else—something they couldn't quite identify.
Behind a half-open door, Draco, Harry, Daphne, and Hermione watched the corridor in silence, their faces saying more than words ever could.
In Daphne's eyes shone the contained thrill of adventure. Hermione trembled slightly, her gaze darting around nervously as if something might leap out at any moment.
Harry, on the other hand, wore that arrogant calm of his, the kind that made him look completely immune to fear, while Draco simply looked annoyed, as if he would rather be anywhere else.
"Well… let's just get this over with and leave this horrible place," murmured Hermione, trying to sound brave, though her voice wavered slightly.
"Why are you so scared? It's not like we haven't seen ghosts before," said Daphne casually, almost playfully, taking a few eager steps forward as if she couldn't wait to explore.
"One thing is seeing ghosts face-to-face when they're friendly—and a little stupid," said Harry, scanning the darkness. "This atmosphere is something else entirely…"
"Let's finish this. I don't want Sirius to win," Draco said firmly.
At the mention of the name, everyone's expression turned serious.
They couldn't allow Sirius Black to brag that they hadn't managed to beat one of his "little tests."
"Move out," ordered Harry, taking the lead. There was nothing he hated more than imagining his godfather smiling smugly if they failed.
The others followed in a straight line behind him.
As they advanced, the air grew heavier.
The floorboards creaked under their feet, and the echo stretched unnaturally long, as though the hallway were far longer than it appeared. The light flickered again, casting shadows that stretched and twisted across the walls.
Then Hermione noticed something.
"Do you see that?" she whispered.
There were footprints on the ground.
Not the usual muddy kind—but dark, almost black traces that looked like… dried blood.
And among the older stains, there were fresher marks—something, or someone, had been dragged through there recently.
The silence became so thick that even the buzz of the lamp sounded like a scream.
Overcome with fear, Hermione clutched the nearest arm—Daphne's.
"You need to be braver, Mione," said the blonde with a confident smile, though her tone wavered slightly.
But at that exact moment, a translucent hand rested on her shoulder.
Daphne turned calmly… and then she saw it.
A ghost loomed behind her—completely transparent, its face twisted by a cruel death.
Its eyes hung downward, empty, and its jaw was barely attached by a thread of spectral flesh.
The touch was icy—so cold it pierced through flesh and bone, like the breath of the underworld itself.
For a second, Daphne stared without changing her smile. Then her eyes dropped to the ghost's hand still clutching her shoulder.
Harry and the others froze, watching as she slowly reached toward her waist.
Then, with a face full of sheer panic, she screamed:
"Bombarda!"
The spell shot straight through the ghost and slammed into the far wall, exploding with a deafening blast.
"Bombarda! Bombarda!" she shouted again and again, firing one spell after another—each explosion landing closer to her friends than to the enemy.
Harry and Draco lunged at her, grabbing her arms before she blew up half the corridor.
"Daphne, stop! You're going to kill us!" Harry yelled, clamping a hand over her mouth before she could cast another word.
The ghost, completely unharmed, let out a hollow, mocking laugh that echoed through the hallway before fading away through the wall.
Only then did Daphne stop struggling.
She was breathing hard, and to everyone's surprise, she suddenly threw herself into Hermione's arms, trembling.
It seemed her confident attitude had been nothing more than an act.
And now, clinging to her friend, eyes wide and shaking from head to toe, it was painfully clear that the brave Daphne Greengrass was absolutely terrified.
…
After calming Daphne—who was still clinging to Hermione as if she were her lifeline—the group continued down the dark corridors.
The two girls walked arm in arm, glancing nervously to either side, their faces painted with fear, expecting something to burst out of the walls at any moment.
The air grew heavier, damper, and filled with invisible tension. The sound of their footsteps echoed mockingly, stretching far too long in the silence.
They walked for several minutes until they reached a crossroads, where five closed doors blocked their way.
Each door was numbered from 1 to 5—two on the left, two on the right, and one directly ahead.
They all stopped, watching in silence. The flickering ceiling light made them look like living shadows, and every spark revealed a new, unsettling detail.
There were no obvious differences between the doors… except for the floor in front of each one.
Door number 1 had a dark streak on the floor, as if something had been dragged into it.
Number 2 showed what looked like bloody bite marks.
Number 3 had smeared handprints, as though someone had tried to crawl away.
Number 4 was completely clean.
And number 5 had footprints—but these were muddy rather than bloody.
"Obviously, it's number 4," said Hermione nervously, crossing her arms. "It looks like the safest exit."
"Wait," Daphne interrupted, trembling a little. "It could be a trap… It's number 5. I just know it."
"And what if that's a trap too?" said Draco seriously, studying the floor. "After all, number 1 could be there just to distract us."
The girls glanced at the door marked with drag blood and shook their heads so fast it nearly messed up their hair.
"We are not going in there. Clearly someone was dragged inside," said Hermione, taking a step back.
Draco examined the footprints thoughtfully. "If you think about it, the ones with shoe prints are more likely to be exits. One with mud, another with blood… Maybe after the 'work' was done, someone left through one of them."
And before anyone could stop him, he opened door number 1 as calmly as if it were a cupboard.
"Draco, wait!" Hermione shouted, but it was too late.
Draco, who had opened the door, froze where he stood, staring inside.
Harry stepped forward, peeking over his shoulder. The door creaked open slowly…
and his gaze met the chest of someone standing right on the other side.
It was a huge man, wearing butcher's clothes drenched in dried blood.
A massive machete hung from his right hand, and several knives clinked at his belt.
A leather mask covered his entire face, but his eyes—unsettlingly alive—gleamed with disturbing excitement.
Harry looked him up and down, slowly. Then, with the same composure, he stepped in front of Draco, who was still frozen, and closed the door.
"Well… looks like he picked wrong," Harry said casually.
At that instant, Hermione and Daphne screamed in perfect unison and spun toward the nearest door—the one completely clean—rushing inside without a second thought.
Harry and Draco followed them, barely a second before the door behind them burst open with a deafening crash that nearly tore it off its hinges.
One step. Two.
The butcher ducked to fit through the frame.
Harry slammed the next door shut and gave it a quick glance before sprinting after the others.
The corridor they ended up in was identical to the previous one—but longer… and worse.
The light at the far end flickered erratically, and this time, there were dozens of doors lining both sides. All of them were wide open.
And suddenly, hands began to emerge from the doorframes.
Rotten hands, covered in dried blood, with nails as black and sharp as claws.
Horrid faces began to appear, deformed and ravenous—some eyeless, others jawless—all letting out guttural groans that chilled their bones.
Even Harry and Draco, who had managed to stay calm until then, went pale.
"Run!" Harry shouted, and the four of them bolted.
The entire corridor erupted with noise: footsteps, screams, ragged breaths, and the distorted laughter of the creatures chasing them.
Hands lunged from the doors, trying to grab them and drag them back inside. Hermione shrieked as one nearly tore out a lock of her hair.
Draco jumped over a severed leg crawling across the floor. Daphne screamed at every flicker of shadow, while Harry just kept running without looking back.
Dodging, jumping, tripping—but never stopping—they sprinted down the hall until, at last, they reached another set of five doors.
But there was no time to think.
The creatures were advancing slowly but in terrifying numbers, filling the corridor with a nightmarish chorus of groans that grew closer with every second.
Harry scanned the floor in a heartbeat.
He spotted muddy footprints in front of one door and shouted, "This way!"
He threw it open and dove inside.
He stumbled across the threshold, and the others crashed on top of him in a mess of limbs, wands, and shouts.
As soon as they were through, the door slammed shut on its own with a sharp thud.
The sudden silence left them stunned.
They stayed frozen for a few seconds, panting, until Harry was the first to turn around.
And there he was.
Sirius Black, leaning casually against a railing, a wide grin on his face.
Behind him stretched a massive magical amusement park, full of lights, music, and attractions. Floating roller coasters twisted through the air, clouds of cotton candy drifted lazily by, and wizards with their children strolled around laughing as if nothing had happened.
"So?" said Sirius proudly, his grin widening. "How did you like my Haunted House?"
The four of them stared, completely in shock.
Harry stood up slowly, dusting himself off and trying to recover his dignity.
"Ahem… not bad," he said, forcing a calm tone, though the sweat on his forehead betrayed him.
Draco also got up, keeping a serious face, trying to look unaffected.
Daphne and Hermione, however, were bright red with embarrassment, remembering the screams they'd let out just seconds earlier.
Sirius eyed them all with amusement.
"You got out pretty fast. I bet you didn't even see the other rooms," he teased. "Want to try again? There are plenty more surprises."
"NO!" Daphne and Hermione yelled in perfect unison.
Sirius burst out laughing, his laughter echoing across the entire park, while Harry simply looked up at the sky—silently swearing that next time, he would be the one to scare his godfather.