The halls of Hogwarts were alive with their usual chatter, but you had begun to feel the weight of an invisible presence. It started weeks ago, with a single text—an innocent “Hello, sunshine.” At first, you thought it was a mistake, a message meant for someone else, but the words were strangely deliberate.

“Who is this?” you had replied.

The response came moments later. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

From that day, the messages became a part of your life. They weren’t frequent, but they were enough to linger in your mind, short phrases that seemed too familiar, almost intimate. “You looked lovely today,” one had read.

You’d replied instantly, your hands trembling, demanding to know how they knew something so personal. The response had been immediate: “Don’t be scared, love. You’re safe.”

Safe. The word should have been comforting, but instead, it felt like a cage.

As the weeks went on, the messages were joined by other, more tangible gestures. Roses appeared on your nightstand, delicate petals. Your favorite snacks were tucked neatly beside your books. There were love notes written in elegant, looping script.

And yet, the sender remained a mystery.

One evening, as you rounded a corner in the castle, you bumped into someone—a tall figure draped in a black cloak, and before you could apologize, the figure had already left. That night, your phone lit up with another message:

“Watch where you’re going next time, sunshine.”

You froze as you read the next line.

“But you smelled so good. Like vanilla.”

That night, you fell asleep with your wand tightly clutched in your hand. But when you woke up, you weren’t alone.

A soft, black blanket—one you didn’t own—was draped over you. The scent of musky cologne and faint cigarette smoke clung to it, a smell that felt both foreign and familiar. Your phone buzzed on your bedside table.

“You were shivering, Sunshine. Keep it.”

Your breath caught as you stared at the message. Whoever he was, he wasn’t just watching anymore. He was closer than you’d ever imagined.