The Familiar Darkness.
The first night back, the air was thick with silence.
Harry lay on the stiff mattress of his small bed, staring at the wooden beams above. The walls of his room felt colder than he remembered, the air heavier. The church was always quiet at night, but this quiet was different.
It wasn’t empty.
He wasn’t alone.
The nun was here.
He didn’t see her, didn’t need to. The moment he had stepped foot inside the church, he had felt it—that unnatural, all-consuming presence. Once, it would have sent his heart hammering, his breath turning shallow with dread.
But tonight?
His magic curled inside him, stirring in response. Not in fear. Not in warning.
In recognition.
The realization settled uneasily in his chest.
She hadn’t changed. She was still the abyss in the dark, still the thing that shouldn’t exist. But his magic no longer recoiled from her. It didn't flinch away.
It reached out.
Because it knew her.
He clenched his fingers into the blanket, jaw tightening.
The weight of her presence pressed against his senses, just outside the door. Watching. Waiting.
But she didn’t enter.
And Harry, for the first time, didn’t tremble beneath her shadow.