The Cloak of Death

There were no birds in the clearing: only grass and an occasional shrub waving under the moonlight. Wolf howls and strange creature noises echoed from the heart of the forest.

The flutter sounded much closer.

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked. "The fluttering!"

"What is it?" Ron posed. His face had turned pale with fear.

Hermione sensed something and flipped around. "Behind us!" she screamed.

What appeared to be a black cloak floated towards them as if carried by the wind.

"Is it a blanket?" Harry asked.

Ron let out a squeak as the truth dawned on him.

"It's the Living Shroud!" Hermione's shrill voice rang out.

"Run!"

Tom and the trio turned to escape, but the Lethifold was too fast. It hurtled toward Harry with surprising speed.

It was about to engulf the boy when Tom raised his wand.

"Stupefy!"

The spell had no effect, but the Shroud turned sharply and headed towards Tom. It threw itself over his body, covering him from head to toe. The boy kicked his hands and legs but to no avail.

Tom felt like he had entered a tent with lava-hot air. It was scorching and moist inside. He felt something acid-like drip on his face. He tried to scream but could not hear his voice.

"So, this is the end for me?" he asked himself. "Lord Voldemort killed by a floating creature!"

His lungs did not hold out for long, and he passed out.

Tom's eyes opened, but he appeared to be in a dream. He was floating in a room with no windows. There was an opening in the ceiling, and moonlight shone through. A hooded man stood in the corner. He approached the boy, leaned towards him, and whispered. "Tom… find the gauntlet… We don't have much time."

"Expecto Patronum!"

Tom was jerked back to reality. He was back in the dark, suffocating tent, the insides of the Lethifold. However, outside, a blinding light flashed.

The Living Shroud let him go. The boy had been floating several feet in the air, suffocating, and he dropped on the soft grass with a thud.

Tom's eyes were blurry, and he could barely see anything. He panicked, hyperventilating.

"Drink this," a familiar voice instructed, putting a flask to his lips.

Tom drank the potion without protest. It was bitter but effective. His vision and strength returned momentarily.

Severus Snape hovered over him with an annoyed expression.

In a few minutes, the boy could stand up. Harry, Hermione, and Ron came over and asked him if he was alright.

"I'm fine," Tom managed to say, still gasping.

"Professor… was that a-" Hermione began.

"A Patronus, yes, Miss Granger. Lethifolds, like Dementors, are weak against the charm. You are lucky, Mr. Riddle, that I was outside on a walk, or you'd have turned to digested food already."

Tom was about to thank Snape when the latter turned and walked ahead of them. The quartet followed him without delay.

"Professor-" Harry urged.

"I will not report this to the Headmaster," Snape replied. "However, all four of you will report for detention to my office after six. "

"Yes, sir…" they said obediently. They dreaded him, but detention was still better than being expelled.

Once they reached the stairs, Snape let the trio climb but held back Tom. "Sir?" the boy asked, confused.

"Where do you think you're going, Mr. Riddle?" the Potions Master asked, enunciating slowly.

"Uh, to the Gryffindor dormitory."

"Oh no, starting today, you will live in the Slytherin dorms. I will be taking your charge from Minerva."

"But Prof-"

"I do not have patience for your protests, Riddle. Do as I say, or you will find yourself on a train home tomorrow morning."

Tom gave up and nodded. He waved goodbye to the trio and left for the Slytherin dungeon.