The next morning, her screen flickered. A pixelated skull blinked onto the desktop, then vanished. She ignored it. By noon, her files had renamed themselves. Spreadsheets became "Crucio_Data.xlsx." Her photos folder was now "Obliviate_Album." A new icon sat in the corner of her desktop: a cracked Sorting Hat, dripping code like black ink.
Too perfect.
The final message read: "Next time, just wait for a sale. – The Goblin"
