The end of the school year approached too quickly.

Most students were excited—ready for the summer, for the break, for time away from the castle. But Harry?

Harry was dreading it.

And Theo noticed.

"You're worried."

Harry barely looked up from where he was lounging on the Slytherin common room couch, staring at the ceiling like it held answers. "I don't worry, Theo."

Theo sat beside him, too close like always, arms crossed. "Liar."

Harry sighed. He should've known Theo wouldn't let this go.

Theo never let anything go.

"It's just…" Harry exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Going back."

Theo frowned. "Back?"

Harry smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "The lovely and charming Dursleys."

Theo's expression darkened immediately. "Your Muggle relatives."

Harry hummed. "That's one way to put it."

Theo tilted his head, studying him. "What aren't you saying?"

Harry shrugged. "It's fine."

Theo's jaw clenched.

Because Theo knew that when Harry said fine, he meant not fine at all.

And that?

That was unacceptable.

Meanwhile, in the highest office of the castle, Albus Dumbledore wrote a letter.

His face was calm, his expression kind, but his blue eyes were sharp. Calculating.

He dipped his quill in ink, pressing it to parchment.

"Dear Mr. Dursley,"

"As the headmaster of Hogwarts, I must remind you of young Harry's… place. He has spent a year among the wrong sort, falling in with dangerous influences. I trust you understand the importance of correction. A firm hand. A lesson in humility."

"Discipline is necessary, Mr. Dursley. Do what must be done."

"I will not interfere."

Dumbledore signed his name with a flourish, sealing the letter and sending it off with an owl.

Then he sat back, steepling his fingers, watching as the bird disappeared into the sky.

Harry Potter was too independent.

Too unpredictable.

That would change.

It had to change.

And if a little force was necessary to remind him where he belonged?

Well.

So be it.

Death screamed.

It wasn't a sound that could be heard.

It wasn't a noise that shook the castle walls or echoed through the Forbidden Forest.

It was something older, something deeper—

Something furious.

Shadows curled and twisted at the edges of reality, stretching toward Harry like they knew. Like they felt the threat that had just been written into existence.

Death did not approve.

Death would not allow it.

Because Harry Potter belonged to it.

Not to Dumbledore.

Not to the Dursleys.

Not to anyone else.

And if Vernon Dursley so much as raised a hand against what was Death's?

Then Death would raise something far worse in return.

The ground cracked beneath the Forbidden Forest.

The shadows deepened in the castle halls.

And somewhere, unseen, something ancient took shape.

Because this time?

Death wasn't just watching.

Death was coming.

The train ride back to London was quiet.

Too quiet.

Harry sat with Theo, Blaise, and Draco, but the usual banter wasn't there. Instead, Theo kept watching him, dark eyes sharp, fingers twitching like he was barely holding himself back.

Harry could feel it. The tension. The unspoken words.

Theo wasn't stupid. He knew something was wrong.

And Harry?

Harry wasn't sure how much longer he could keep lying about it.

But what was he supposed to say?

That the great Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived, the heir of ancient bloodlines, the one who Death itself followed like a shadow—was afraid of a group of pathetic Muggles?

No.

Harry didn't do weakness.

So he smirked, stretching out on the seat like he didn't have a single care in the world. "You're brooding again."

Theo didn't smirk back. "You're avoiding again."

Blaise arched an eyebrow, amused. "Well, this is fun."

Draco scoffed. "Oh, just get on with it, Nott. You've been hovering since breakfast."

Theo ignored them. His gaze stayed locked on Harry. "Tell me the truth."

Harry huffed, tilting his head. "What truth?"

Theo's jaw clenched. "Why are you worried about going back?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not."

Theo's eyes flashed. "Liar."

Harry sighed, rubbing his temple. "Theo, it's fine."

Theo's fingers curled into fists.

Because there it was again.

That word.

That lie.

And the worst part?

Harry believed it.

Believed that whatever happened to him, whatever punishment was waiting, was just… normal.

Theo exhaled sharply, shoving a hand through his hair. "You don't have to go back."

Harry snorted. "You got a better plan?"

Theo held his gaze. "Yes."

Harry blinked.

Draco groaned. "Merlin, not this again—"

Theo ignored him, leaning forward, voice dangerously soft. "Stay with me."

Harry's smirk faltered. "…What?"

Theo's eyes were unreadable. "Come to the manor."

Harry forced a chuckle. "Right. And you think Dumbledore's just going to let that happen?"

Theo's smirk was slow, sharp. "Dumbledore doesn't control me."

Harry hummed. "No. But he controls this game."

Theo tilted his head. "Then let's stop playing it."

Silence stretched between them.

Because the thing was?

Theo meant it.

This wasn't a joke. This wasn't a passing thought.

Theo was serious.

Harry exhaled, shaking his head. "It's not that simple."

Theo's lips curled. "It is for me."

Harry swallowed. Something in his chest twisted.

Because Merlin help him, a part of him wanted to say yes.

Wanted to let Theo pull him out of this mess, away from the Dursleys, away from Dumbledore's control.

But he couldn't.

Not yet.

Not when the headmaster still held all the pieces.

So Harry forced a smirk, stretching lazily. "You really need a hobby, Theo."

Theo studied him for a long moment.

Then he leaned back, exhaling sharply, looking pissed.

"You always do this," Theo muttered.

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"Act like it doesn't matter." Theo's voice was quiet but intense. "Like you don't matter."

Harry swallowed.

Blaise sighed dramatically. "Well. This is uncomfortable."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Potter, for Salazar's sake, just listen to him—"

But the train was already slowing.

King's Cross.

The end of the line.

Harry forced an easy smirk, standing up, stretching like he hadn't just had the most insane conversation of his life. "Well, boys, it's been fun."

Theo stood too, gaze still unreadable. "Harry—"

Harry clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. I'll be back before you can start another obsession over me."

Theo didn't smile.

He just watched, silent, as Harry turned away.

And for the first time, Harry had the worst feeling that he wasn't walking toward home.

He was walking toward a trap.

Meanwhile, far from the train station, in a quiet house on a quiet street, a fat man read a letter.

His piggish eyes skimmed the page, lips curling into a cruel smile.

And then he set the letter down, cracking his knuckles.

Because Dumbledore had made it very clear.

Harry needed to be disciplined.

And Vernon Dursley was happy to comply.

Death knew.

The moment Harry stepped off the train, the moment he walked toward his prison, the moment Dumbledore's trap began to close—

Death felt it.

And Death was furious.

The shadows in the station flickered unnaturally. The ground beneath the city hummed, unnoticed by the mortals who walked above it.

Because Death had allowed this game to play out.

It had watched. It had waited.

But no more.

Harry Potter was not meant for cages.

And if Vernon Dursley touched what belonged to Death?

Then he would learn the truth of an ancient promise.

The Boy Who Lived did not walk alone.

And if the world had forgotten why Death's chosen were never to be harmed—

Then Death would simply remind them.