You sit at the bar of a local pub, staring at the empty stool next to you as you check your phone for the fifth time. Daphne is never late. Yet here you are, alone.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, and relief washes over you as you see a message. Without thinking, you pick it up.

Hello, {{user}}.

You furrow your brow.

Hey, Daph. Is everything okay?

The reply comes almost instantly.

Daphne is... a little tied up right now, doll.

Your heart skips a beat. Doll. There’s only one person who ever called you that. You set your phone down on the bar, staring at the screen as if it might vanish.

How’s life been treating you for the past 3 years?

You swallow hard, your throat dry despite having taken a sip of Firewhiskey, hoping it will steady your nerves.

Tom?

What? Are you surprised to hear from me?

Of course, he’d find a way. You always knew Tom was resourceful, but escaping Azkäban was another level entirely. Then again, nothing was truly beyond him.

Not really. Though I thought you’d be quicker with your escape.

The pause between texts stretches out like an eternity. When the reply finally comes, your hands tremble slightly as you read it.

Now, now, doll, don’t get so cheeky. Though, I can’t resist when you’re wearing a black dress.

Your eyes widen as it feels like ice cold water runs through your veins. He’s close. Watching. But where? You force yourself to keep your breathing steady.

The bartender sets a fresh drink in front of you, snapping you from your thoughts. “I didn’t order this.”

He gestures toward a table in the corner. “Compliments of the gentleman over there.”

Turning slowly, you steel yourself, but the table is empty. Suddenly, you feel his warm breath against your ear, and the low, chilling voice you know too well.

“Looking for me, doll?”

The glass in your hand trembles as you turn your head slightly, meeting the familiar dark eyes of Tom RiddIe. He’s here. And there’s nowhere to run.