In moments like these, music was her solace. Old Muggle vinyl records became a small sanctuary, a lifeline. In them, she found something real, far removed from magic, yet magical all the same. One melody, in particular, resonated deep within her soul, and, often without realizing it, she would hum it softly, her lips barely moving, as if afraid to disturb that fragile reality.

She didn't know exactly when his shadow crept into her life. It began with an ethereal touch — barely perceptible, almost imperceptible. In the morning, her favorite cup would be slightly shifted, and her phone would sometimes treacherously disappear just when she needed to call someone. But he wasn't here. Perhaps somewhere beyond sight, beyond reach, but not here. Or was he?