Chapter 7
The Hogwarts Express hummed steadily along the tracks, its wheels clattering rhythmically beneath the floorboards. The train car was filled with excited chatter, the buzz of new students eager to begin their magical education. The air was thick with anticipation, and despite the noise around him, Harry felt strangely detached from it all. He sat by the window, watching the passing countryside blur into a smudge of green and brown.
Molly Weasley had been kind, explaining everything Harry needed to know before he boarded the train. He had no trouble at the station—no misplaced luggage or last-minute confusion. In fact, the whole experience had felt oddly smooth, like he was simply going through the motions of something he had always known would happen.
He had found an empty compartment quickly, not wanting to engage with too many people just yet. He needed some time alone to adjust, to process what was happening. For a long while, he just sat there, lost in his thoughts, watching the trees rush past the window.
As the train rattled on, Harry pulled out his robe and adjusted it for comfort, his fingers brushing against the fabric of his pocket. Something felt... off. Something soft and smooth, an object he hadn’t remembered placing there. His brow furrowed as he slid his hand deeper into his pocket.
When his fingers brushed against the cool beads, his heart skipped a beat.
The rosary beads.
He didn’t need to look at them to know what they were. He had seen them enough times in the hallway, heard them click against the stone floor during the long, sleepless nights at the church. The very beads that Sister Maria had worn—the very rosary that the nun had carried with her. Harry’s hand trembled slightly as he pulled them out, his eyes scanning the familiar smooth surface of the beads, the darkness swirling around them like a familiar weight.
But how?
He hadn't placed them in his pocket. They just were there.
A strange chill ran down his spine as he held them in his palm, the beads cold against his skin, the faintest hint of something unsettling clinging to their presence. It was as though they were a part of the shadows that had always surrounded him at the church—something he had never been able to escape.
He gripped them tighter, his breath shallow. The silence of the compartment felt heavier now, oppressive even. It was as if the shadows from the church had followed him here, on this train, and they were only growing stronger.
He stared at the beads, wondering how they had come to be in his possession. He hadn’t seen the nun since that night at the church, but he knew. He just knew. There was no mistaking it. The rosary beads had come from her, from the darkness she carried with her.
Why had she sent them to him? What did it mean?
The train swayed slightly as it moved around a bend in the track, pulling Harry from his thoughts. He shoved the beads back into his pocket quickly, trying to push the weight of them—and the feeling of something ominous—away.
As he leaned back in his seat, staring out the window again, he couldn’t shake the sense that he wasn’t truly alone. Even here, on the train, surrounded by strangers, the shadows were still there, lingering at the edges of his vision, watching him.
He tried to shake off the sensation, telling himself it was just his imagination, just the stress of leaving everything behind for Hogwarts. But deep down, Harry knew something was wrong. Something was watching him. Something had followed him from the church, and no matter how far he traveled, it wasn’t going to let him go.
The train began to slow, signaling their approach to Hogwarts. Harry could feel his pulse quickening, the familiar unease returning, gnawing at him.
He stood up, grabbing his things, his hand still lingering near his pocket where the rosary beads rested.
It’s just the beginning, he thought. Whatever this is, I’ll face it head on, just like everything else.
But even as he moved toward the door of the compartment, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadows were still there, just out of sight, waiting for him to step off the train.
The Hogwarts Express came to a halt, and Harry’s heart skipped again as the doors opened. He knew he was stepping into a new chapter, but the lingering cold of the rosary beads told him that the old chapter—the one filled with secrets, shadows, and things he couldn’t fully understand—wasn’t finished with him yet.