Prologue

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

- The Fog by Carl Sandburg

Pearl Fearnley woke up with a start. "What?"she gasped out loud. She blinked quizzically at her surroundings and remembered where she was. And when she was. She breathed a sigh of relief and shook her head. "'What?!'" she echoed, mocking herself. The thought of her dreaming about it again was absolutely pathetic.

She rolled over to her right and curled up in a ball. Six years. Or maybe seven? It might just be seven already since then. Pearl looked out the French doors that lined her right wall and wondered why she should dream of it tonight, of all nights.

She stared at the lamppost outside as she tried to recall everything she did today. Finally, Pearl felt sleep creep upon her. She let it take over, to consume the last few dredges of nostalgia weighing heavily on her chest.

It was then, when her eyes just about fluttered closed, that she noticed the lights of her Charmed crystal curtains flicker slightly. Outside, the lamppost's light wavered, too. She sat up and frowned. "Something's not right," she whispered. She vaguely remembers a story of orphans and a nun who loved them like her own. Recalling bedtime stories and a half-a-decade-old row on the same night? Pearl thought that perhaps her mum was right. She needed to visit home more often. She sighed and wished it were that easy.

It was then that all the lights went out and a familiar yet frightening cold quickly enveloped her. Her heart skipped a beat.

"No," she gasped. "No!"

Pearl rolled to the left side of her bed and grabbed her wand sitting on the night table. Quickly, she sat up and aimed it at the surrounding darkness. Tears dropped on her cheeks and trickled down her quivering chin. If they were here, then it only meant one thing.

He was gone.

The next few seconds moved so slowly and the night air had the stench of death. Pearl sobbed with both fear and sorrow as she inhaled the reeking odor and stumbled out of her bed. She never thought it would end this way.

A strong gust of wind blew open the French doors and shattered the glass. They rained mercilessly on Pearl's left arm that she held up to shield her head.

She screamed but kept her head down and her eyes closed. She didn't need to look. She knew they were there. She felt them, along with the sting of broken glass that sliced into her skin.

She hated them. They were the only things that scared her so she was perfectly familiar with how they made their presence known. And at that moment, she knew exactly where one of them lingered.

Pearl raised her wand straight ahead where she just heard that sharp, rattling breath. She recalled the last time she saw him. So handsome and optimistic. For a moment, she thought she heard him laugh. A smile touched her lips.

Then, she inhaled deeply and finally spoke, her tone calm and steady and brave.

"Expecto Patronum."