The garden glistened under the soft glow of the moonlight, dew settling on the petals of blooming roses. Veronica strolled along the cobblestone path, her steps slow and deliberate. This was her sanctuary, where the hum of the world faded and her thoughts could wander freely.
But tonight, the stillness was unsettling.
She paused at the fountain, her reflection rippling in the water. The soft gurgle of the fountain should have soothed her, yet unease tugged at her chest, a weight she couldn’t name.
“Why do I feel like this?” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Her thoughts drifted to Harry. In only a few weeks, the boy with the messy black hair and emerald green eyes had become her solace, her confidant. Her brother.
It was strange how easily he’d slipped into her life. Despite the scars he carried—both seen and unseen—there was a quiet resilience in him that reminded her of the Phoenix pendant she wore around her neck.
A faint smile curved her lips. She remembered his awkward laugh when she teased him about his fiery red hair after his accidental magic, and the way his eyes lit up when she introduced him to a world of wonder beyond his imagination. But even as those memories warmed her heart, they were tinged with an ache she couldn’t ignore.
There was a darkness in Harry, a shadow he couldn’t yet name but that lingered in his every movement. She saw it when he flinched at loud noises, when his words faltered as if afraid of saying too much, when his gaze would drift far away, lost in memories he couldn’t escape.
“I promised I’d protect him,” she whispered, clenching her fists. “No matter what.”
⚡︎
Harry’s POV
The sky had darkened by the time Harry reached Number Four. The air felt heavy, almost as if it knew what awaited him inside. His heart pounded in his chest as he opened the door, each step quieter than the last.
“Boy!” Uncle Vernon’s voice bellowed from the living room.
Harry froze. He didn’t have to see Vernon to know his face was already turning red, his neck bulging with fury.
