.Absolutely—here's Chapter 7, where Rowan goes alone to Ashwell Hollow, stepping into mystery, magic, and danger. It's immersive, slow-burning but tense, with vivid prose and a grounded perspective that keeps the reader right at Rowan's side. A blend of introspection, eerie beauty, and the hint of something ancient waking.
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Chapter 7 – Ashwell Hollow
I didn't tell Ron.
Or anyone.
Not because I didn't trust them—but because the scroll didn't give me a choice.
Bring no one. Or everything ends.
That's the sort of sentence that wraps itself around your ribs and squeezes. It didn't feel like a threat. It felt like truth.
So I waited.
Midnight came slowly.
The Burrow snored around me. Doors creaked. Pipes clanked. Somewhere in the attic, the ghoul moaned like it had stage fright.
Nyx landed silently on my shoulder.
She didn't speak—she never did—but I felt her thoughts like a pulse: Go.
So I did.
I slipped out through the window.
The wind was cool, smelling of grass and wildflowers. The stars above wheeled slow and endless, and the moon hovered like it was waiting to see if I'd survive this.
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Ashwell Hollow wasn't on any map.
But I knew exactly where it was.
Don't ask how. Don't ask why.
Somewhere between my ribs and my bones, I just... knew.
My feet took me past the orchard, past the field of whispering wheat, through the copse of trees that shouldn't have gone so deep.
The deeper I walked, the quieter the world became.
Not silent. Just... listening.
Even the crickets held their breath.
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And then, I saw it.
Ashwell Hollow.
It wasn't a place so much as a feeling made real.
I spotted the silvered leaves dancing softly in the wind, branches stretched like they were keeping secrets.
Underneath it stood a man.
Tall. Cloaked. Face hooded, but not unfamiliar in posture. There was a stillness to him, the kind that made the world lean in.
He didn't speak at first.
I didn't either.
Nyx landed on a branch overhead, watching.
"You look like her," the man finally said. His voice was low, steady. "But not just her."
I swallowed. "You said you had something?"
He nodded and held out a small, wrapped object.
I took it carefully. The cloth was smooth—dark blue with silver embroidery at the corners. Inside was a leather-bound pouch.
"Open it when you're ready," he said, not looking at me. "It's enchanted. Not dangerous. Just... personal."
His words weren't cold. But there was a distance in them—like he wasn't allowed to say more.
"Why give this to me?"
A pause.
"Because you're going to Hogwarts," he said simply. "And you should have something of your own when you walk in."
I searched his face. "Do you know my—"
He raised a hand. "Not tonight."
Just like that, he turned away, disappearing between the trees with footsteps too quiet to follow.
I stood under the tree for a long time after he left, heart pounding.
Nyx fluttered down to my shoulder, and I held the pouch tightly in my hand.
Something told me this wasn't just a "gift."
It was a message.
One I hadn't fully unwrapped yet.