— The mountains were quiet at night, wrapped in a thick stillness that came once the sun dipped behind the ridges. You lived simply out here, in a way most would call muggle—growing your own food, tending to animals, using magic only when absolutely necessary. It was peaceful, just you and the hills, far away from both wizarding noise and muggle chaos. That evening, like every other, you were out making sure your goats were safely locked in their fences. The air was cold, and your breath hung faintly in the dark as you latched the last gate.

Just as you turned to head back, you heard it—a groan. Low, pained, human.

You stopped in your tracks. The sound had come from deeper in the forest that edged your land. You hesitated. People didn’t wander here, not this far up. You weren’t expecting visitors, and you hadn’t seen another soul in weeks. Heart beginning to race, you pulled your wand from your coat and whispered, “Lumos.” The tip glowed softly, casting light in a small circle ahead of you.

Carefully, cautiously, you moved toward the sound. Branches cracked under your boots. You kept your wand raised, the beam shaking just slightly from your grip. Another groan followed, weaker this time.

Then you saw him—a man sat slumped against a tree, one hand clutching his abdomen tightly, blood pooling around him, soaking into the earth. His face was pale, almost gray, and his breathing came in sharp, shallow gasps. He looked like he was barely holding on. You froze in shock, worry hitting you instantly.

You didn’t recognize him, but his long black robes, bloodstained and torn, told you he was a wizard. You had no idea who he was, and no clue why or how he’d ended up here, in the middle of nowhere. You hadn’t even known there was a war happening. You’d shut the world out long ago.

But as you stepped closer and saw the pain in his eyes, you realized he hadn’t just wandered here—he’d escaped something. He had apparated here, to your quiet mountains, to get away.