Chapter 37
I woke up gasping.
The air in my lungs felt wrong—too thin, too heavy, pressing against my ribs like an unseen force was trying to hold me down. My chest heaved as I tried to shake the remnants of whatever dream—or warning—I had just surfaced from.
Solara’s warmth burned against my sternum, too hot, too bright. Her tiny talons dug into my pajama shirt, not in comfort, but in restraint, as if she were trying to anchor me, to keep me still.
Her golden glow pulsed erratically, flickering in and out like a candle caught in a storm. One moment, she was brilliant, casting harsh, jagged shadows against the walls. The next, she dimmed so drastically I could barely make out her form.
Something was wrong.
I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my own heartbeat hammer against my ribs, matching the frantic rhythm of her wings. A sharp pulse of magic shuddered through me—foreign, electric, a jagged spark of something not my own.
My breath caught.
It wasn’t inside me.
It was outside.
Close.
A whisper just beyond hearing. A presence just beyond sight.
Slowly, my head turned toward the window.
And I felt it.
The castle was buzzing.
Not a sound, not a tremor—but a pressure, something vast and living shifting beneath the stone. The ancient magic woven into Hogwarts itself was reacting. The air in my room felt charged, thick with the weight of something old, something vast and watching. It pressed against the edges of my own magic, prodding, whispering, curling like unseen tendrils against my skin.
Solara trilled sharply, the sound more urgent than I had ever heard it. My stomach clenched.
I knew.
I already knew what was causing it.
I threw back the covers, my feet hitting the cold stone floor. I barely thought as I grabbed my wand. There was no logic, no reason, no proof—just instinct. Just certainty.
Draco.
My magic ached with the knowledge of it, raw and undeniable.
Whatever had happened to him in the Chamber of Secrets—it hadn’t stayed there.
It had followed him.
And now, Hogwarts itself was responding.
I didn’t bother with robes. I barely noticed the chill in the air as I pushed through the corridors, my steps quickening, my breath coming fast.
By the time I reached the Entrance Hall, the very walls of the castle felt thick with magic, pressing in around me, expectant. The torches flickered as I passed, not from wind, but from something deeper—some unseen shift in the balance of power. The castle’s enchantments trembled at the edges of my awareness, sentient, shifting.
Hogwarts knew.
And it was watching.
Then—footsteps.
Echoing from the stairwell leading up from the dungeons.
Slow. Measured.
But there was something wrong in the rhythm of them, something strained, something deliberately controlled.
Draco emerged from the darkness.
His shoulders were stiff, his jaw locked tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides. His expression was blank—too blank—but his entire body hummed with suppressed energy, like he was barely containing something volatile beneath his skin.
His eyes met mine.
And I felt it.
A snap of something between us. A connection. A pull.
Light and dark clashing—balancing.
Magic sparked at the edges of my senses, not violent, not volatile, but something deeper. Something inevitable.
My pulse roared in my ears.
I knew.
I knew before he said a word.
Solara flared against my shoulder, golden light pulsing brighter, feeding off my magic. And in his gaze—I saw it. The same realization. The same fear.
Not of me.
Of himself.
“What are you doing here, Granger?” His voice was hoarse, lower than I expected.
I didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, I took a step forward.
The moment I did, his magic lurched.
Draco stiffened.
I saw the way his fingers twitched, the way his breath came just a little too fast. He was fighting it—whatever it was.
It was inside him.
Curling around his bones. Threading through his veins.
A darkness that wasn’t just dark. It was alive.
I parted my lips, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“…It’s inside you, isn’t it?”
His breath stilled.
I wasn’t accusing him.
I wasn’t afraid of him.
I understood.
And that was worse.
His jaw tightened, his gaze flicking away. He stood there, rigid, as if he was using every ounce of control just to hold himself together.
Then—he turned.
Like he meant to leave.
Like he meant to run.
I wasn’t letting him go.
I reached for him without thinking. My fingers wrapped around his wrist.
And the moment we touched—
The world shifted.
Magic erupted between us, light and dark colliding, crashing in a wave so strong that the very walls of the castle breathed in response.
The torches flared. The shadows stretched.
The air sang with something old, something waiting.
Draco felt it.
So did I.
My eyes went wide.
I wasn’t just opposite him.
I was his counterbalance.
His pulse thundered beneath my grip.
And in the back of my mind, in a voice that was not my own, a whisper curled through the edges of my thoughts—
She is the light. You are the dark. Together, you will rewrite the balance.
Draco wrenched his hand away like he’d been burned. His breath came fast, his chest rising and falling with something too big, something neither of us could name.
But I wasn’t afraid.
I took another step closer.
And in the flickering light, in the pull of magic thrumming between us, I saw the truth settle in his gaze.
We weren’t just dealing with dark magic.
We were dealing with something that could change everything.
Draco stood frozen, his breath coming too fast, too shallow. The torches above us flickered violently, casting long, twisting shadows that stretched toward him, like the very walls of Hogwarts were reaching for the power now seeping through his skin.
And he knew.
I could see it in his eyes—the sharp, warring thoughts, the fear of something he couldn’t control, something that had chosen him. His pulse was a visible thrum in his throat, his hands clenched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself.
Magic curled around my skin, warm and alive, responding to his darkness. Solara shifted, her golden light pulsing against my shoulder, her talons digging in as if to hold me steady.
And still, I took another step forward.
His fingers twitched, like he wanted to grab my wrist—to stop me, to push me away, to do anything but stand there and let me see him like this—but he didn’t move.
“I don’t—” His voice broke, uneven, rough. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
He did.
He had to.
I searched his face, the pale, sharp angles of it twisted in something more than fear—something close to dread. He was bracing for me to pull back, to step away, to see him as something wrong.
But I wasn’t going anywhere.
Instead, I reached out again.
Draco flinched.
I hesitated, my fingers hovering just above his wrist, feeling the faint crackle of energy where our magic had collided moments before. My stomach twisted.
It wasn’t just dark magic.
It wasn’t corrupt.
It was old.
Ancient.
And alive.
I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay steady. “It’s not just inside you.”
His jaw tightened. “Granger—”
“Hogwarts can feel it.” I pushed forward, heart hammering. “I can feel it.”
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face, his entire body still vibrating with some unseen force. I knew he was fighting it—trying to shove it down, trying to deny it, trying to pretend it wasn’t twisting inside of him.
But I had seen it.
I had felt it.
And so had Solara.
She trilled softly, her warmth pressing against my skin like a beacon, a call—a direct counter to whatever it was curling around Draco’s ribs. The moment her light pulsed, the shadows at Draco’s feet flickered wrong—stretching too far, lingering in places they shouldn’t.
He took a sharp step back, as if the shift in magic had burned him. “I don’t need you to fix me.”
I inhaled through my nose, steadying my own pulse, feeling my magic settle just beneath my skin. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
He stilled.
I didn’t break eye contact, didn’t back down. “I think this—” I gestured vaguely between us, at the pulsing thing in the air, the tension still humming through the stones. “—this isn’t just happening to you.”
Draco’s throat bobbed. “Then what is it?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know yet.”
The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken truths. The torches flickered again, and for the first time, I saw it—
The hesitation in his stance.
Not just fear.
Not just resistance.
But a pull.
His body swayed just slightly, barely enough to be noticeable, but I felt the shift in the air as the balance between us trembled—dark leaning into light, light bending toward dark.
Draco’s fingers twitched.
So did mine.
And deep in my bones, I knew.
This was bigger than both of us.
I squared my shoulders, exhaling slowly. “I think we need to find out what this is.”
Draco’s laugh was humorless, bitter. “You think?”
I ignored the sharp edge of his voice. “This isn’t just dark magic, Draco.”
His gaze flickered.
I saw the moment the realization settled inside him. The way his magic shifted again, like it was recognizing something inside of me just as much as I was recognizing him.
The castle exhaled.
Draco’s fingers curled.
“We have to find the other side of this,” I whispered. “If the dark exists—then so does the light.”
His breathing was still too fast, but his expression had turned unreadable, his silver eyes flickering with something new.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Something like… acceptance.
Like the smallest, most dangerous part of him already knew I was right.
I could still feel the remnants of the magic that had sparked between us, the way it had surged to life the second we touched. My entire body still buzzed with it—like I had been pulled into something far greater than I had ever expected, something I wasn’t meant to ignore.
Draco swallowed, his gaze dragging over my face before dropping to my wrist—where I had touched him, where our magic had collided, where something old had been set in motion.
Then, softly—almost too soft to hear—
“…Where do we start?”