Darkness settled thick over Hogwarts like a shroud. The castle's familiar corridors now felt like tunnels through a tomb, lit only by flickering torches and restless magic. The students moved more carefully, spoke more quietly. Even Peeves had been unusually subdued, as though something in the walls itself was watching, listening.
In the Potions classroom, Snape's voice was sharper than ever.
"Focus. If even a single scale is misplaced, the entire potion becomes toxic."
Harry kept his head down, hands steady as he measured powdered Re'em blood. Across from him, Draco worked in total silence, but his jaw was tight, eyes flicking to Harry every so often when he thought Snape wasn't watching.
Of course, Snape saw everything.
From the back of the classroom, his eyes moved from one student to the next, lingering briefly on Draco. The boy's face was pale—not from fear, but tension. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something unreadable. Something older.
Snape's eyes flicked to Harry, who caught the glance and looked away quickly. That made Snape frown.
Something had shifted.
---
After Class – The Corridor Outside the Dungeons
The students filed out quickly, eager to leave behind Snape's glowering presence. But Harry stayed behind, packing up more slowly. So did Draco.
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.
"We'll wait outside," Hermione said quietly.
The door closed behind them.
Harry and Draco stood in awkward silence. Then—
"You're avoiding me again," Harry said.
Draco didn't answer right away. He fixed his eyes on the stone wall beside him. "You're imagining things."
Harry stepped forward. "You've barely spoken to me since that night in the library. Since we both said... well, not much. But it felt like something."
Draco's fists clenched at his sides. He looked tired. Edges worn down.
"That's the problem, Potter," he said, voice low. "It felt like something. And I don't know what to do with that."
Harry's breath hitched. The corridor suddenly felt too small.
Before either could speak again, the door opened. Snape stepped out, his robes billowing behind him like smoke.
He looked between them. "If you two are going to loiter here, at least make yourselves useful. There's a list of ingredients Madam Pomfrey needs restocked. Potter, Malfoy—go."
They didn't argue.
Snape watched them disappear down the corridor, his expression unreadable.
---
Later – In the Forbidden Wing of the Library
The list had led them deep into the library, where they needed powdered hellebore root and dried asphodel. Draco found the shelf first, stretching to reach a jar from the top.
Harry stood beside him.
"Let me help," Harry said.
Draco handed it off wordlessly.
Their fingers brushed. Just a moment.
But it felt like something hot and startling passed between them.
Draco pulled his hand back too fast, nearly knocking over the jar. Harry caught it.
They stood very still.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Draco muttered finally.
Harry looked at him. "You don't have to know everything."
Draco looked at him then—really looked at him—and for once, there was no sneer, no guarded sarcasm. Just a question in his eyes.
Then he turned away again.
---
Meanwhile – Snape's Office
Snape sat with his hands folded in front of him, not grading, not reading. Just thinking.
He had followed the whispers again the previous night. They had led him further beneath the castle. There was something alive in the pipes. Something ancient. And he was running out of time.
But his thoughts weren't just on the creature.
They were on Harry.
And Draco.
He had seen the way they looked at each other, the tension between them growing like the pressure in a cauldron about to boil over.
He remembered being their age. Remembered the pain of caring, of being confused, of losing the only person who ever made the world feel less cruel.
He closed his eyes.
He would not let history repeat itself.
---
Nightfall – Gryffindor Tower
Hermione had fallen asleep on the couch, a book resting on her chest. Ron was upstairs, snoring softly.
Harry sat by the fire, staring into the flames. The jar of hellebore root sat on the table beside him.
He should go to bed.
He should stop thinking about Draco.
But he couldn't.
He stood suddenly and grabbed the jar.
He needed air.
---
The Astronomy Tower
Draco stood alone, robes wrapped tightly around him against the chill. The castle stretched out below, shadowed and sleeping.
He heard footsteps.
He didn't turn around.
"You came," he said quietly.
Harry stepped beside him. "I didn't know you'd be here."
"I hoped you would be."
They stood shoulder to shoulder, silence humming between them.
Then Draco said, "Do you ever wish things were simpler?"
Harry nodded slowly. "All the time."
"What if this ends badly?"
Harry glanced at him. "Then it ends badly. But we'll know."
Another long pause.
Then, tentatively, Draco reached out. Just barely. A hand brushing the edge of Harry's.
Harry didn't pull away.
They stood that way, hands almost but not quite touching, the moonlight bathing them both.
And below them, in the depths of the castle, something stirred.
The shadows were shifting again.