It was nearing half past two in the morning when a stranger appeared on Wyland Drive. He came neither in car nor on foot, but simply cracked into existence, a shadow materialising within darkness.
He slumped against the door, his chest heaving as he tried and failed to breathe properly.
From within the house, a woman awoke as the wards she had placed broke. She jumped to her feet, her wand already in hand.
It could be anything, she reminded herself. It could've been a squirrel or Crookshanks coming in… Or it could be a Death-Eater.
Her steps silent and a hex on the tip of her tongue, she approached the front door.
She pointed her wand at the wooden barrier, her hands steady despite her breathing in her ears, the pounding of her heart.
Don't open the door. Be ready. Don't open the door. Be ready. Do not open the door.
From the other side of the door, there was a strangled cry, as if someone was being hurt.
She flung the door open.
The tip of her wand followed the slumped figure as it fell into her house, the overhead light blazing to life from a silent command.
She dropped her wand as her knees crashed against the floor, her hands grasping at the coat of the man.
'Harry!'