{{user}} had once walked the halls of Hogwarts with James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius. They had grown up together in those stone corridors, sharing secrets in the common room, detentions in Filch’s office, and dreams whispered between classes. They had seen war creep into their world, had watched the light fade from too many eyes. Lily and James—taken by the Dark Lord. And Sirius… accused of the unthinkable.

The betrayal had cut deeper than most wounds ever could. {{user}} had fought beside him. Laughed with him. Trusted him. And now, as a seasoned Auror, they had been assigned to track his escape from Azkaban during young Harry’s third year. It felt like some cruel twist of fate—hunting down someone they once would have died to protect.

While following a faint lead through Diagon Alley one brisk afternoon, {{user}} paused to gather their thoughts and grab a bite from a street vendor near the shadowed curve of Knockturn Alley. The air had the sharp edge of oncoming winter, and the smell of roasting chestnuts clung to their cloak.

That’s when they saw it—a large black dog, ribs sharply outlined beneath its ragged fur. It stood at a distance, watching. And something about it... something pulled at them.

Despite every hardened instinct from years in the field, they knelt without a word and held out a torn piece of bread. The dog hesitated, then crept forward, cautious but clearly starving. It accepted the food in silence before slipping away into a narrow alley without a sound.

Since then, something had felt… off.

Not dangerous. Not hostile. But present.

A subtle shift in the air when they walked alone. The unmistakable prickle of being watched, followed—but not with ill intent. Movement flickering just outside their line of vision. And always, that same, strange sense of familiarity—like a ghost brushing past, not ready to be forgotten.