𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝑶𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑨𝑻𝑬 ─ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝒙 𝒐𝒄

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

⭒๋⭑

Couldn't help myself from talkin bout you

And my daddy said stay away from Juliet

So I sneak out to the garden to see you

We keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew'

And i was cryin on the staircase

I was beggin' you, "Please don't go"

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ─ Taylor Swift

─────▕⃝⃤─────

The rain fell relentlessly, turning the streets into a tangled web of blurred reflections. I found myself lost in thought as I hastened my pace.

Just one more day to go, and it would be a full moon.

My bag was even more laden with Wolfsbane potion than usual. This time, it was for both Lupin and Hermione. I'd spent a fair bit of gold on each bottle, for quality potion masters are a rare find, and I wouldn't ask Narcissa for help even under pain of death.

I sighed as I turned the corner near the park. My umbrella was losing a battle against the wind. I could've Apparated straight to Grimmauld Place, but I've always enjoyed the walk, even with the world crashing down around me. It gave me a chance to think, a luxury not often afforded to a mother and a mediwitch.

Yet, for some reason, I felt I wasn't alone.

It was as though indescribable shadows danced around me, hidden by the curtain of rain drenching my vision. I knew it was foolish to walk alone at this hour. There was a curfew in wizarding areas, and Dementors were free to patrol the streets.

I glanced over my shoulder, but saw nothing. No figure, no movement beyond the raindrops dancing in the air. Still, the feeling persisted, a chill down my spine whispering the invisible presence of someone.

Paranoia fed on the impossibility of seeing clearly through the downpour enveloping everything. Yet, the sensation didn't pass. I felt it as a shiver in my bones.

My body trembled at the thought of being watched and unable to see my pursuer. I swallowed hard, quickening my pace as the streetlights flickered like ghostly lanterns.

Discreetly, I lifted the hem of my dress to grab the wand strapped to my thigh.

That trick had come in handy during the war. I hate this feeling of fear, and I hate even more how often I feel it. There was a time I thought I was haunted by a personal ghost. Since James' death, the feeling has worsened.

When I reached the old, abandoned square, the rain had not let up. My boots were soggy, but my robes felt dry.

Grimmauld Place stood proudly before my eyes, slightly blurred by the incessant drops.

As I prepared to knock on the door, the sound of heels behind me set off my instincts, and in a reflex, I pushed the follower against the wall with brutality, my wand beneath their chin and my forearm pressing their neck.

A black umbrella with emerald green details fell to the ground. Before me, a pair of clear, frightened eyes blinked.

"What the hell, Black!" I exclaimed with a hiss. Narcissa stood there, guilt written all over her face, panting and looking from my wand to my wrist.