The Dark.
The evening had settled in, and Harry sat in his room, gazing out the window at the creeping darkness of the night. The anticipation of the coming week weighed heavily on him, the excitement and fear tangled in his chest. He was about to leave the church, the nuns, and this small, familiar room behind for something far larger, far stranger—a new world of magic. It seemed so unreal, even with the letter from Professor McGonagall still clutched in his hand, a reminder of the strange path ahead.
He was ready, though. Ready to step out of the shadows and into the unknown. He had no idea what awaited him at Hogwarts, but the pull of curiosity and the promise of belonging somewhere had become irresistible. It was his chance to be free of the past, of the nuns' watchful eyes, of the isolation he’d felt for so long.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
“Harry,” Sister Maria’s voice called from the other side. “It’s time to say goodbye.”
With a sigh, Harry turned away from the window. Sister Maria stepped into the room, her face warm and understanding. Her eyes held that familiar kindness that had always made her different from the others.
"I know," Harry said softly.
Maria gave him a small smile, walking over to where Harry sat on the edge of the bed. Her expression was heavy, but her voice steady. “I wanted to say goodbye properly, before you leave. You’ve been like a son to me, Harry. You’ve brought light into this place.”
Harry swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He hadn’t expected to feel this much sadness, but it was there, a lump in his chest that wouldn’t go away.
“Thank you, Sister Maria,” he murmured, his voice thick.
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’ve grown so much. I’ve seen your strength, even when you didn’t know it yourself.” She smiled softly, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “I know you’ll do great things, Harry. You’re ready for whatever comes next.”
Harry nodded, wiping his eyes quickly, trying to hold it together. He hadn’t realized just how much he would miss her. Maria had always been a constant, a steady presence in a life full of uncertainty.
“I’ll miss you,” he whispered.
“Don’t forget, you are loved,” she said gently. “I will pray for you every day, Harry.”
She stood, giving him one last look before leaving the room, her footsteps soft in the hallway. Harry watched the door close behind her, the finality of it sinking in. He hadn’t realized until this moment how much of a home the church had been for him, despite all the tension.
As the door clicked shut, the weight of the night began to settle around him. The shadows outside his window had grown deeper, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different now. The church, the familiar stillness of it, felt colder. The air seemed to press in, heavier than before.
A soft sound drifted to him from the hallway—the familiar click of rosary beads against stone. Harry didn’t immediately feel alarmed. He had heard it every night since he’d arrived. The sound was as much a part of this place as the stained-glass windows and the high vaulted ceilings.
He rose from his bed and walked to the door, about to open it, but then something stopped him.
The clicking sound grew louder.
A slight shiver ran down Harry’s spine as he opened the door. At the far end of the hallway, the figure in black was standing, just as she had so many times before. The nun.
Her form was draped in a dark, flowing veil, and her face was hidden beneath it, as always. Her hands were clasped before her, holding the rosary beads, which clicked softly with every movement she made. Harry had grown used to seeing her in the halls, standing motionless, always watching.
He wasn’t afraid—not at first. He had seen her do this nearly every night since he’d come here. It was unsettling, but it wasn’t the first time.
But this time... something was different.
Harry’s breath hitched as he stepped into the hallway, his eyes locked on her figure. She didn’t move. Not at all. She simply stood there, as still as the air around her. The dark veil almost seemed to absorb the light, making her appear even more like a shadow than a person.
The rosary beads clicked again. Louder now, but still, she didn’t move.
Harry’s pulse quickened. He felt his chest tighten. There was a coldness in the air now, creeping into the corners of the hallway. The nun was still, too still.
And then, in an instant, she was gone.
Harry barely had time to blink before she appeared directly in front of him, as though she had teleported from the far end of the hallway, closing the distance in a fraction of a second. His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.
She was standing right before him now, her form towering over him, the darkness surrounding her like a heavy fog. The rosary beads clicked once more, a rhythmic sound that seemed to echo in the very bones of the church.
Harry froze. He wanted to speak, but the words caught in his throat. The air around him grew colder, the shadows lengthening in the room. It felt as though the very walls were closing in. He could hear nothing but the soft, persistent click of the rosary beads, each sound sharper than the last.
Her presence pressed against him, suffocating him, and despite himself, Harry couldn’t look away. There was something in the air, something ancient and oppressive, that made his skin crawl. The longer she stood there, the more the world around him seemed to fade. The light in the hallway flickered, as if struggling to hold on against the weight of her presence.
She didn’t speak. Not a single word.
The silence stretched on, thick and unbearable, until it felt like Harry’s very breath would be stolen away. The darkness around her felt alive, hungry.
And then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone.
There was no sound of footsteps, no sign of movement. She simply vanished, leaving the hallway empty and silent once more. The cold air remained, clinging to Harry like an unwanted shadow.
He stood there, unable to move, unable to breathe properly. His mind raced, trying to process what had just happened. But the feeling of her presence lingered, like a stain on the air.
With a shudder, Harry stepped back into his room, closing the door behind him. His heart was pounding in his chest, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the lock. He leaned against the door, trying to steady himself, but the cold still wrapped around him, refusing to let go.
Something was wrong. Something was deeply, horribly wrong.