I did not sleep all night.
I sat in the darkness with my back pressed against the wall and stared at the door. Just in case, I held a knife in my hand. It was foolish, of course, to use a knife against magic, but at least it was something. The cold weapon warmed my palm and gave me an illusion of safety.
Every five minutes it seemed to me that footsteps behind the door were returning. I remained on alert the entire time.
But nothing happened.
Only the wind rustled outside the window, and the old apple tree scraped its branches against the glass.
Toward morning I finally dozed off. It was a short and anxious sleep that did not last long at all.
"Merope!"
I flinched and opened my eyes.
A worried Mrs. Cole was standing over me.
"Why are you sitting on the floor?" she asked anxiously. "You'll get sick like that."
I tried to stand and realized that during that time my legs had gone so numb that they would not obey me at all. In the end Mrs. Cole helped me up and sat me on the bed.
"What happened?" she asked, looking with even greater concern at the knife that had fallen from my hand.
In any case, I had to somehow explain this situation to the worried woman. There was no way to brush it off.
So in the end I sighed and told her everything. Well, almost everything.
I told Mrs. Cole about the nighttime visitor who had come to our house, but of course I did not tell her the exact purpose of it.
Mrs. Cole listened to me in silence, and only her eyebrows crept upward.
"Good heavens!" she exclaimed. "Could it really be one of those acquaintances of your family you told me about?"
"Exactly."
The woman's face after my words looked extremely tense.
"He didn't do anything to you, did he? You weren't hurt?"
"No," I shook my head and sighed tiredly. "I didn't open the door to him, and later he left. But just in case I still decided to keep watch by the door, in case he returned."
Mrs. Cole pressed her lips together.
"And what should we do now? Should we go to the police?"
"I don't think the police will help us," I rubbed my face with my hands. "We don't even have any proof, and no one saw this man except me."
But of course, the real reason I had kept silent about before the woman was that Muggle police would be absolutely useless against wizards.
Nevertheless, Mrs. Cole truly looked extremely worried by my words.
"Good heavens… And why are those scoundrels after you? Is it even safe for you to go outside now?"
I nodded.
"It's daytime now, so everything will be fine. Those people would want to hide their existence, so I don't think they would attack me in the middle of the day."
"Well, well," Mrs. Cole shook her head. "There really are so many vile people in the world. Merope, I don't know what kind of people are after you and how dangerous they are, but if everything is so serious, then please don't stay silent! Even if I seem useless, I'll turn the whole village upside down to catch those scoundrels!"
I shook my head.
"Mrs. Cole, don't worry. This is still my problem, and I don't want to drag you into it. I'll find a way to deal with it."
In truth, I was not so sure about that. But there was no choice. In any case, I definitely did not want to involve Mrs. Cole and other innocent villagers in these dark matters.
After I recovered a little, I looked at the clock and remembered that I still had work today.
"I need to go to the stables," I said, standing up. "Thomas is waiting for me."
Mrs. Cole was taken aback.
"What work after a night like this? You'd better sleep!"
"I can't. There are too many thoughts in my head anyway. So I'll distract myself at least with work."
Mrs. Cole sighed, but in the end decided not to argue with me.
I got ready quickly and went to work.
At the stables it was familiar and calm, smelling of hay and horses. Daisy immediately nudged her muzzle into my shoulder and whinnied softly, as if asking what had happened.
"It's all right, girl," I lied, stroking her warm neck. "Everything's fine."
Thomas appeared only an hour later, when I had already cleaned half the stalls.
"You're early today," he remarked.
"Couldn't sleep," I just shrugged.
"Did something happen?" the old stableman frowned.
"…No, really nothing like that."
He looked at me attentively, but in the end said nothing. Only sighed.
"All right. Then work."
By lunchtime I was exhausted as usual, so much that my hands were trembling. I sat down on a stump near the stable, took out the sandwich Mrs. Cole had given me, but I could not eat — the food would not go down my throat.
"Miss Gaunt."
I jerked my head up sharply.
Shacklebolt was standing nearby. He looked the same as always, as if he almost never slept — shadows under his eyes, hollow cheeks.
"Where did you spend the night?" I asked immediately.
"The same place as always," he answered evasively. "But I heard you had a guest."
I was taken aback.
"Heard?" I repeated. "So you knew about it and didn't interfere?"
"He wasn't attacking you, only talking," the man shrugged. "My task is to protect you, not to interfere with your conversations."
I snorted.
"What a convenient position."
I wondered whether all Aurors treated their assignments so carelessly when they were tasked with protecting someone. Or whether I was simply unlucky.
Meanwhile, Shacklebolt sat down on the grass beside me.
"I know who it was," he said. "One of those Mr. Ogden warned you about. 'Friends of ancient families.' They look for people like you — the last of a powerful line — to use."
"Use for what?" I frowned.
"To revive former greatness. To prove that pure blood still exists. To…" he hesitated. "For breeding."
I went cold.
"Breeding?"
"Possibly they want you to bear a child. A pure-blood heir. It's their fixation — to restore ancient families."
I felt sick from that suggestion alone.
"I'm not going to bear anything for anyone," I said immediately.
"Miss Gaunt, but I don't think your opinion truly interests them."
We were silent for a short time.
"What should I do now?" I finally asked quietly.
"The simplest way is to leave," Shacklebolt said plainly. "The farther, the better. Disappear, change your name, start a new life where no one will find you."
"Where?"
"There are options. France, for example, or America. It's easiest to get lost there."
I hesitated and even fell into a stupor from such a sudden proposal.
"…But how?" I asked again. "I have no money, no documents, I don't even know foreign languages…"
"I'll help," Shacklebolt said. "Mr. Ogden gave me authority. We can take you out secretly and settle you in a new place."
I looked at him and saw both worry and determination in his eyes.
But there was something I truly could not understand.
"Why… why are you helping me?" I asked. "You don't even know me. I'm no one to you."
Shacklebolt smiled faintly.
"It's all Mr. Ogden's whim. He believes you're a good person and deserve a chance. And as for me… I know what it's like when people want to use you only because of your surname."
"You too?" I asked, somewhat surprised.
"My family isn't as ancient as the Gaunts, but it also has its skeletons in the closet. My grandfather maintained connections with dark wizards. But my father later broke with them and left the magical community altogether, becoming a Muggle. I was raised in freedom, but the mark of the past still remained."
He spoke quietly, looking at the ground.
"So I may understand what it's like for you now. And I am also ready to help."
Honestly, I was even a little confused, because I did not expect such frankness from him. And nevertheless… I was still somewhat touched.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "But I still need to think about it."
"You're welcome." He stood up. "Think. I still need time to prepare the documents anyway. And for now… be careful. If they come again — call me."
The man disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared.
I remained sitting on the stump, looking toward the forest.
A new name. A new life. But was I truly ready for that? I doubted it.
Honestly, I was a little afraid. I was not ready to leave Little Hangleton so soon, especially since I had only relatively recently settled here. My life, together with the dear people I had found in this place, was only just beginning to improve.
But was I ready to trade all of that for the unknown? Only to save myself from a possible threat?
That decision was perhaps the most difficult for me at that moment.