NUMINOUS | Harry Styles

TEN

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Unbeknown to Vera, as she lay unconscious on the cold ground, Harry appeared from the shadows, moving with an urgency that betrayed the calm facade he so often wore. His face, normally composed and aloof, was etched with worry.

He didn't hesitate as he knelt beside her, his hand hovering over her pale, bloodied skin. Harry's eyes scanned her prone form, quickly taking in the cuts that marred her skin, the blood that had stained her pajamas.

Muttering under his breath, he cursed himself for not being quicker, his usual calm shattered by the sight.

Hands trembling only for a moment before he collected himself. His sharp eyes flicked toward the darkness where the creature still lurked. Invisible to human eyes, it circled just beyond the faint light of the streetlamps, waiting.

But Harry saw it—he always could. The creature was a twisted, malevolent thing, with long, shadowy limbs and eyes that glowed a sinister yellow. Harry's eyes narrowed as he focused on the shimmering outline of the creature that had attacked Vera. Its claws ready to strike again, hungry for more blood.

"Not tonight," he hissed, his voice low and steady, though filled with controlled fury.

Harry didn't have time for regret. His voice dropped into a series of low, rapid murmurs as he began casting a spell, his hands moving in intricate, practiced gestures. Power rippled from his fingertips, forming an invisible barrier around Vera's crumpled form.

Harry raised one hand, fingers splayed, and muttered a string of words in a language older than time. The words left his lips in a rush, soft and fluid, spoken with the precision of someone who had spent his life mastering their power.

Harry's brow furrowed, sweat forming on his forehead despite the cold night air, the air around him began to shift, vibrating with unseen energy.

The creature shrieked, though no one but Harry could hear its wretched cry. It slithered closer, its shadow stretching ominously toward them, its hunger palpable.

But Harry wasn't about to let it win. He gritted his teeth, focusing all his energy on pushing it away.

It recoiled, its form barely visible—a rippling distortion against the night sky. Harry's hand glowed faintly, a subtle pulse of light emanating from his palm as he kept his eyes locked on the creature, his focus unbreakable.

"Get back," he whispered harshly, a command wrapped in ancient magic.

The invisible beast, a twisted entity only recognizable to those of Harry's kind, lunged once more, but Harry was ready. He slammed his palm into the ground, sending a wave of energy surging through the air. The creature faltered, its form flickering as if struggling against the unseen force.

Harry's voice rose, the words of his spell becoming louder, sharper. His brow furrowed in concentration as he directed the magic with precision. "Begone!" he growled, his hand tracing a swift pattern in the air.

The creature let out one final, ear-piercing screech—this time so powerful that it nearly shook the ground. But Harry's magic held firm. It had no choice but to flee, with one final snarl, its distorted form dissipating into the darkness, driven away by the sheer force of Harry's spell.

As the air stilled and returned to its eerie calm, the night seemed to breathe again.

Harry didn't relax, though. He crouched beside Vera, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. He looked down at Vera, who laid motionless, remaining unconscious, her breath shallow but steady. The cuts on her body had stopped bleeding, but he knew the danger wasn't over.

He muttered another incantation, his hands hovering over her. He carefully placed his hand over her forehead, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. Soft light glowed around his fingers as he whispered a protective charm, sealing her wounds and warding off any lingering presence of the creature.

Harry's expression softened, his gaze lingering on Vera longer than he intended. He hadn't meant for this to happen—for her to be caught up in the strange world that surrounded him.

Harry stood and looked around once more, making sure the creature was truly gone.

"You're safe now," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. The guilt gnawed at him, knowing this wouldn't be the last time danger would come for her.

He couldn't leave her here, vulnerable and exposed, not after what had just happened. The creature may have retreated, but it wouldn't stay away for long, not now that it had found her. And whatever it wanted, it wasn't done yet.

Harry gently lifted her into his arms. The cold wind whipped around them, but he didn't flinch—his focus entirely on her.

He glanced down at Vera's face—soft and peaceful in sleep despite the pain she had endured—and tightened his grip.

He took her back to his place, moving quickly but carefully through the empty streets, the October night crisp and eerily silent. Harry's home was tucked away on the edge, just beyond the outskirts of town.

Entering his home, the air inside instantly warmed, the familiar scent of herbs and woodsmoke filling the room. He laid Vera gently on a worn leather sofa, her body limp and fragile. The flickering glow of the fireplace bathed her in soft light, casting long shadows across the rustic space.

Harry moved swiftly, gathering supplies—jars of dried herbs, bowls of water, and bandages. His hands trembled slightly as he worked, whispering ancient words under his breath, calling forth healing magic to mend her wounds. The cuts on her arms and legs began to close, the blood drying and skin knitting back together as his fingers brushed lightly over each mark.

He frowned, concentrating hard. This wasn't just physical—it was something deeper. The creature had left an imprint on her, a dark energy that lingered, invisible to the eye but palpable to someone like him. He knew he had to cleanse it before it took root.

Leaning over her, Harry placed his hand over her heart, feeling the faint rhythm beneath his palm. He closed his eyes, channeling his power into her, guiding it through her body to push out the darkness. His voice was low and steady as he spoke the ancient riddles, the room around them humming with energy.

Slowly, the dark presence began to dissipate, the heaviness lifting from Vera's body. Her breathing steadied, her face relaxing into a peaceful expression. Harry let out a breath of relief, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

Harry sat beside her for a moment, watching her sleep. His usual mask of indifference had slipped, replaced with something more raw, more vulnerable. She didn't know it, but she had become important to him. Too important.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He had stayed hidden in the shadows for a reason, keeping his distance from people, from attachments. But Vera had changed that—unintentionally, perhaps, but she had. And now he was caught in something bigger than he had ever anticipated.

As the fire crackled softly in the hearth, Harry sat there, keeping watch over her. He wouldn't let anything harm her again.

Morning light would soon filter through the small windows of his place, but for now, Harry remained at her side, his expression a mixture of determination and worry. The air was thick with unspoken promises, and though Vera still slept, she was no longer alone.

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