Back inside the Burrow, everything felt... louder.
The ticking of the enchanted clock in the living room. The snoring from multiple bedrooms. The faint creaking of floorboards as the house shifted in its sleep.
But in my room, it was just me, Nyx, and the pouch.
I didn't open it right away.
I placed it on the desk like it might vanish if I blinked.
There was something old about it—not in the way dust settles on forgotten things, but old like intention. Like it had waited a long time to reach me.
Nyx pecked at the edge of the desk, then gave a soft croak, her way of nudging me to act.
I sat down.
Took a breath.
Unfastened the silver thread binding it closed.
Inside, there were three things.
A pendant—a thin shard of obsidian embedded with a single silvery thread through its center, like lightning frozen in stone.
A folded piece of parchment, with no ink visible—blank, until I angled it under moonlight. Then a single word shimmered into view:
> Observe.
And finally... a slim black ring, plain and unadorned, cool to the touch but humming faintly with something I couldn't place. Not power exactly, but awareness.
My fingers tightened around it, heart beating a little too fast.
Nyx leaned closer, tapping the parchment with her beak.
"Observe," I whispered again.
Nothing happened.
Not right away.
But then—I felt it.
Like a whisper down my spine.
The ring grew warm, just for a second, and the pendant in my other hand pulsed. Only once.
I looked up, suddenly unsure if the room had gotten darker or if it was just in my head.
The air wasn't heavy.
Just... watching.
I closed the pouch slowly, the items inside already starting to feel like pieces to a puzzle I hadn't been given.
Whoever that man was—whoever he served—this wasn't just a welcome gift.
It was a test.
---
Morning hit like a Bludger to the chest.
"Up, up, up!" Mrs. Weasley shouted from below. "Breakfast and packing—train leaves in two hours!"
I scrambled up, pushing the pouch deep into the bottom of my trunk, right next to my journal and wand holster.
As I hurried downstairs, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the hallway mirror.
Same dark eyes.
Same messy hair.
Same boy headed for Hogwarts.
But something felt different now.
The kind of different you don't talk about at breakfast.