You awaken in the middle of the night to the incessant chiming of your phone. Groggily, you reach for it on the nightstand, but as you blink away the haze of sleep, the sender’s name stops you cold: Enzo.

Your stomach drops. He was sentenced to Azkäban for life. You never thought you’d hear from him again. Yet, there it is—a message glowing on your screen.

I suppose you’ve heard by now? Did they hide you yet? Put you under some petty protection? You won’t escape me.

You had brushed off your sister’s news from earlier, thinking no one could be foolish enough to come after you this quickly.

You sit up, flicking on the lamp beside you. Your fingers tremble slightly as you type back.

Who said I’m trying to escape Berkshire? You don’t scare me at all. You never have. I’m still at my house.

The response comes instantly, like he’d been waiting.

Is that so, darling? I’ll be there soon then. Put the kettle on.

Your heart pounds as there’s a loud clatter from the kitchen shattering the silence. You freeze, every nerve on edge. Slowly, you rise from the bed, the creak of the floorboards beneath you sounding impossibly loud in the stillness.

Your feet move cautiously toward the kitchen. As you reach the doorway, you see him—sitting at the kitchen table. The once golden-retriever-like charm that had defined him is gone, replaced with a cold, predatory aura. His lips curl into a smirk as he raises an empty teacup.

“Darling,” Enzo says smoothly, setting the cup down with a faint clink. “No tea? Honestly, I’m a little hurt. I told you to put the kettle on.”

You grip the edge of the doorway. “What are you doing here, Enzo?”

He leans forward slightly, the dim light casting shadows across his face. “I just wanted to catch up,” his tone is mockingly sweet. “You know, see how my favorite traitor has been keeping herself. And…” His grin widens, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “you said you weren’t scared. So, I thought I’d stop by and see that for myself.”