The bright white stars winked through the night sky, not noticing the commotion below. His horse panted faster and faster in the cold as its rider spurred it on. The black thoroughbred ran though the thick forest, trying to protect its master‘s precious cargo. Severus Snape clutched his sick son tightly to his chest and keeping a tight hold on the worn leather reins of his beloved horse. His cloak billowed out as the horse picked up speed on the dirt trail.

Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind;
Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,
Er fasst ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.

Severus felt a small hand clasp his and he looked down in to the bright emerald green eyes of his darling son. His mother died during childbirth and Severus raised Harry alone. He saw a deep love and a horrid pain mix in his son’s eyes. Harry gave a very weak smile toward his father before he burrowed his face deeper inside his father’s cloak, desperately trying to warm himself up.

“My son, why do you hide your face so anxiously?” Severus asked nervously.

“Father, don’t you see the Erlking? The Erlking with his crown and train?” Harry weakly replied.

Severus looked around and saw no one with a crown or a long cloak; there was no one there at all. His son must be getting sicker by the minute if he saw Death. He tried to get his father to see, but his father could not.

“My son, it is a streak of mist.” But Harry saw otherwise. He saw Harry peered at the red gleaming eyes of Death in the distance. They were gaining towards the dark, robed figure and Harry shuddered as he heard Death calling to him, causing a deep pain in his head to flair around the odd scar he had above his left eye.

“Dear child, come, go with me! I’ll play the wonderful games with you. Many colored flowers grow along the shore, and my mother has many golden garments.”

Harry clenched his eyes shut, pleading to his father and any deity who may hear his tiny whispered prayer of protection. He looked up to his kind and noble father.

“My Father, my father, and don’t you hear the Erlking whispering promises to me?” He begged his father to understand.

“Be quiet, stay quiet, my child; the wind is rustling in the dead leaves.” Severus answered kindly and softly, hoping to not disturb the ancient forest spirits. It wouldn’t do for the horse to get spooked now before they reached the mighty Hogwarts castle, for Severus was deeply in need of her protections and the inhabitants’ help. Harry became colder. He was like ice when Severus touched his hand. Harry’s small eyes widened at the robed figure looming closer. The rich deep voice penetrated his mind again.

“My handsome boy, will you come with me? My daughters shall wait upon you. My daughters lead off in the dance every night, and cradle and dance and sing you to sleep.”

Harry became even more frightened. His heartbeat quickened; it was almost as fast as the horse’s pants in the frosty air. The wind blew, making the tree branches creak and groan as if annoyed. Harry shook in fear and felt his father’s arm tighten its hold on the small boy. His dad had to believe that the Erlking was near.

“My father, my father, and don’t you see there the Erlking’s daughters in the shadows?” Harry pleaded with his father; pleading to make him see. Harry saw them move swiftly, matching the horse’s quick strides as the rode north. The Erlking and his daughters moved gracefully as if the forest was never in their way. The daughters wore light grey robes, completely opposite of their father, who wore dark grey cloaks. Their faces were all of the same; their skin, the palest white as if dipped in liquefied moon; their eyes were as black as the night sky; their hair looked like a silver color, almost like mercury, and looked to be silky as it moved so freely. They had an eerie but ethereal black glow about them, swirling about them and causing the wind to blow. Their father had the most evil red eyes, instilling fear deep within Harry. His fingers were long and skeletal and his face was as pale as his daughters. Severus could not see them, any of them.

“My son, my son, I see it clearly; the old willows look so grey.” Severus reasoned. Harry saw grey women moving in between trees, and his father saw long willowy trees.

The Erlking spoke again. His deep voice had an edge to it as if he was mad.

“I love you, your beautiful figure delights me! And if you are not willing, then I shall use force.” The foreboding figure was enveloped by the fog and Harry felt something enter his body, taking over his soul, his being, his life.

“My father, my father, now he is taking a hold of me! The Erlking has hurt me!” Harry screams weakly. He felt the evil presence twisting his insides and messing with his mind. He could feel his heartbeat slowing down; his emerald green eyes started to dull; his skin started to have a grey twinge to it. Severus closed his eyes briefly. He remembered the stories that his uncle told him every All Hallow’s Eve about the Erlking, and how he takes over the body when someone is close to dying. Severus, in turn, hold his son the same stories and hoped to anyone that his son was just trying to scare him. The horse finally left the forest and entered the gates of Hogwarts. He hurriedly leapt down from the tall horse and pulled his son off. He noticed Harry’s limp arm and looked at his son. His beloved, but dead, son.

Dem Vater grauset's, er reitet geschwind,
Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind,
Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not;
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.