Raven stood outside Harry's room, her hands folded calmly in front of her. Her voice was soft. "Have a good night, Harry, okay?" She tilted her head slightly, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer. "Are you going to be able to sleep all right in your room?" Harry looked up at her, surprised by the question. "I have my own bed," he said with quiet wonder.
He hesitated, his fingers brushing the doorframe. "You know… I used to sleep in a crawl space under the stairs." His eyes dropped to the floor. "I didn't even have a bed. Just some sheets on the floor." Raven's expression didn't change, but her hands tightened into fists at her sides. "Do you want me to get back at that family for you?"
Her voice stayed even, but the coldness in it was unmistakable. "I could make them suffer for everything they did to you." Harry quickly shook his head, alarmed. "No—no, no," he said. "The police already came by and interviewed me." He looked back up, searching her face. "Officer Timothy Claremont told me they're charging them with child neglect and endangerment." His words grew steadier as he continued. "They're investigating the place where I slept too. The Dursleys are in a lot of trouble."
He paused, then added more quietly, "They also found out they took the inheritance my parents left me." He looked confused even saying it aloud. "They used it for themselves. The officer said they have to pay me restitution." He blinked once. "I've never had any money of my own before." Raven's eyes narrowed slightly, her voice sharp. "They stole your parents' money too?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah… apparently there was a lot going on behind the scenes." He glanced around the room, his voice shifting to a gentler tone. "But I have my own room now. I have a bed. A bathroom. A shower." He smiled faintly, still a little stunned. "I've never had any of this." Raven's expression softened. She exhaled slowly. "All right, Harry. Have a good night." Harry smiled more genuinely. "Oh, I'll sleep just fine." He stepped back and gently closed the door.
Harry slipped under the covers, the sheets smooth and cool against his skin. "I finally have a bed," he whispered. He laid his head on the pillow and, without even trying, fell asleep. It was the first time in his life that sleep came easily, and for once, he didn't dream of cupboards or shouting or locked doors. Only warmth. And quiet.
Down the hall, Raven walked towards her own room, her footsteps silent. She looked around the orphanage with a quiet, contemplative gaze. "I really am living a good life here," she whispered to herself. She stopped just outside her door. "I don't want to go back to my world at all." Her voice was soft, but heavy with meaning.
She sighed and placed her hand on the doorframe. "I wonder if it's really going to be that simple." The door creaked open as she entered, and with a wave of her hand, it shut silently behind her. Raven rose off the floor, levitating in place as her cloak shifted gently around her.
"Azarath Metreon Zinthos," she whispered. Shadows poured outward across the room like liquid smoke, circling and rippling along the walls. Her brow furrowed slightly. "As I suspected… my magic is unrestricted here." She let herself float higher as she extended her senses.
"The magic in the air is subtly merging with my own," she said, almost to herself. "It's allowing my power to grow unchecked." Her lips curved faintly. "That means my magic is compatible with this world." She closed her eyes. "I'll be able to draw this energy into myself." She focused inward, tracing the changes she has begun to notice. "Since arriving here, I've been accumulating magic. It's forming some kind of magical energy core in my body."
Her expression deepened with interest. "Before, my power was dormant. Now it's evolving." Her eyes opened again, glowing faintly. "This core is also forming a connection to my father's magic." She drew in a slow breath. "If that's true, then eventually I could harness his power too." She looked toward the window but didn't move. "That might even let me return to my original world." Her expression remained thoughtful, but the next words came out with a hint of amusement. "But why would I rush back?" She let herself hover silently. "There's so much to learn here."
She expanded her awareness outwards, her senses brushing against ley lines and old magical structures. Her gaze turned north, unfocused but alert. "There's a massive concentration of magic over there," she whispered. "Camouflaged by layers of spells." She narrowed her eyes. "But I think I can pierce them." Without another word, Raven's body turned transparent, her form phasing out of the material world. She slipped through the ceiling without a sound, cloaked in a veil of invisibility, and soared over the sleeping city of London, tracing the trails of magic like threads of light only she could see.
Eventually, she descended, her boots touching down outside a quiet and weathered pub nestled between two buildings. The brick was old, slightly warped by time, and the wooden sign above creaked in the wind. She looked up at it, her voice a whisper. "The Leaky Cauldron…" She stepped forward and pushed the door open. A soft bell rang overhead. The room was quiet but filled with the hush of turned heads and low voices falling silent.
Every person inside stopped what they were doing to look at her. From behind the bar, a tall, hunched man with a bald head stepped forward. "Young lady…" Tom said slowly, narrowing his eyes. "What are you doing here?" Raven met his gaze. "I'm here to see a friend."
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