The cupboard door swung open with a sharp click. Vernon's shadow filled the frame, his moustache bristling.
"Up. We're going out."
Harry blinked in the sudden light. "Out."
"Don't talk back. Petunia's got to pick up a cake for Marge's visit, and I'm not leaving you here alone. You'll keep your hood up, glasses on, and you will not speak to anyone."
Oh, a grand outing, Nyx purred. Shall we buy a hat shaped like a chicken?
Stay quiet, Hedwig said. Crowds mean eyes.
Harry pulled on his hoodie and sunglasses. "Wouldn't dream of ruining your big day."
The car ride was silent except for Dudley's occasional snort from the back seat. Vernon's knuckles were already pale on the steering wheel, his jaw tight.
The bakery was busy, the air warm and sweet, the smell of sugar and bread wrapping around him. Vernon's hand clamped on his shoulder as they moved toward the counter.
"Stay here," Vernon muttered.
Harry stood by the display case, staring at the rows of pastries.
That éclair is judging you, Nyx said. Look at it. It knows you can't afford it.
Ignore her, Hedwig murmured.
A woman in a bright scarf stepped up beside him, smiling. "Well, aren't you a quiet one."
Harry kept his head down.
She bent slightly, trying to see his face. "What's your name?"
Before he could answer, a child darted past, bumping into him. The sunglasses slipped, the hood falling back just enough for the light to catch his hair — white as frost — and his eyes, silver‑flecked green with pupils narrowing in the glare.
The woman's smile froze. "Oh… my."
Vernon was there in an instant, shoving the hood back up and jamming the glasses into place. "Sensitive to light," he said gruffly. "Come on, boy."
They left without the cake.
The drive home was silent, Vernon's breathing heavy.
He's angry, Hedwig warned.
He's humiliated, Nyx said. And that's worse.
The moment they stepped inside, Vernon slammed the door and rounded on Harry. "You embarrassed me. You made her look at you like—like—"
"Like what?" Harry asked quietly.
"Like we're not normal!" Vernon's face was purple now. "You think you can parade around with that hair, those eyes—"
He grabbed Harry by the arm, shaking him hard enough to rattle his teeth.
Harry, Hedwig said sharply, breathe.
Nyx's voice lost its humour. Time to go, little light.
The hallway dimmed, the edges of the walls blurring. Vernon's grip faltered.
"What—what's happening?" he stammered.
Shadows curled up from the floor, cool and heavy, wrapping around Harry's legs.
"Don't fight it," Nyx said. "I've got you."
The world tilted. The walls melted into black, the floor falling away. Cold air rushed past Harry's face, and then he was standing on something solid again — but it wasn't the hallway.
It was a wide, low‑lit room. A deep, plush rug under his feet. A huge couch piled with cushions. A fireplace that glowed without flame. Shelves lined with books and odd trinkets. The air smelled faintly of rain on stone.
A sleek black cat stepped into view, her fur rippling like liquid shadow, eyes gleaming gold. She was larger than any cat Harry had ever seen, her shoulders nearly to his waist.
Her voice filled his mind, warm and teasing. Hello, little light.
Harry stared. Nyx.
Finally put a face to the voice, she said.
Hedwig's voice came from somewhere above, calm and certain. This is the Shadow Realm. You are safe here.
Nyx padded closer, tail curling lazily. Your uncle can't get in. Your aunt can't get in. Dudley couldn't find this place if you drew him a map and handed him a torch.
Harry turned in a slow circle. This is… mine?
Ours, Nyx corrected. A base. A bolt‑hole. A place to breathe when the cupboard gets too small.
He sank onto the couch. It was the softest thing he'd ever felt. Why now?
Because you needed it, Nyx said. And because I was tired of watching you get shoved around without somewhere to land.
You've always had us, Hedwig said. Now you have a door.
Harry looked toward the far wall. There was no door, just more shadow. How do I get here?
Think of me, Nyx said. Think of the dark curling in, the way it feels just before you fall asleep. I'll do the rest.
Can I stay?
For a while, Hedwig said. But you'll have to go back eventually.
Don't worry, Nyx added. I'll drag you back here whenever you need it. And sometimes when you don't.
Harry laughed, the sound strange in his own ears. This is… amazing.
Get used to it, little light, Nyx said. You've got a whole world in here. And I've got plans.
She hopped down from the couch and padded toward an archway that hadn't been there a moment ago. Come on. Tour time.
Through the arch was a kitchen, but not like the Dursleys'. The counters were smooth black stone, the cupboards carved from dark wood. A kettle steamed quietly on the stove, and the air smelled faintly of cinnamon.
Fully stocked, Nyx said. Anything you want, it'll be here. The Realm listens.
Another arch led to a library. Shelves stretched up into shadow, ladders rolling silently along the walls. The books' spines shimmered faintly, titles shifting when he tried to read them.
They'll show you what you need, Hedwig said.
Past the library was a hallway lined with doors. Nyx flicked her tail toward the first. Bedroom. Big bed. No Dudley.
The next door opened onto a bathroom with a deep claw‑foot tub and a mirror that rippled like water.
Farther down, a door opened to a garden under a night sky, the grass soft and cool, the air filled with the sound of distant waves.
Harry turned slowly, taking it all in. This is… all mine?
Ours, Nyx corrected again. But yes. You can come here whenever you need to breathe. Or hide. Or just… be.
He stood in the garden for a long moment, the stars above brighter than any he'd seen through the Dursleys' curtains.
When they returned to the living room, Nyx curled up on the couch. You'll have to go back soon. But now you know — you're never really stuck in that cupboard.
Harry sat beside her, sinking into the cushions. Thank you.
Don't thank me yet, Nyx said. Wait until you see what else I've got planned.
From that night on, the cupboard was never the same. Because Harry knew, just beyond the dark, there was a living room waiting for him — and a shadow‑cat who would always open the door.