Chapter 24
The black mass trembled, its gold and green scales pulsing irregularly, almost as if it were going mad. The whisper grew louder, twisted, obsessive—«Draco… Draco… Draco…»—a mantra repeated in a desperate crescendo.
Harry felt his breath catch in his chest. He could no longer feel the blonde.
A cold void spread inside him—the chill of knowing something was terribly wrong. Draco wasn’t there. That ever‑present aura—had it vanished? No, not vanished. Obscured. As if it had been dragged away to a distant, unreachable place.
The black mass stirred even more, as if trying to tear itself apart, as if it were on the verge of madness.
He clenched his jaw, his eyes burning. «We have to save him.»
Without hesitation, he stepped forward, reaching out toward the unstable being before him. «We have to save Draco.»
The raven‑haired guy’s fingers brushed the surface of the black and gold mass. A shudder ran through it—a wave of energy that shook the entire space around them.
«He needs us.»
He froze. Then, with a sound like a deep, measured breath, he moved toward Harry. The world around them exploded into fragments of light and darkness, and he let himself be drawn into the abyss.
Draco didn’t know how to describe Mirathis’s domain. It wasn’t a defined place, but rather a continuous succession of shapes and colors melting into one another without ever stopping. The sky didn’t exist, yet it was everywhere. The ground beneath his feet seemed solid one moment and liquid the next, as if chaos itself were a tangible concept. Luminous trails snaked through the air, while dense shadows moved without a clear source, as if the realm were alive—pulsating and in constant flux.
He felt uneasy. It was not a place for mortals, nor for wizards, nor for anyone who needed fixed points to keep their sanity.
Mirathis, on the other hand, appeared perfectly at ease, as if he were the master of that wreckage.
«I think he’ll be here soon.» he said with absolute calm.
Draco turned, ready to ask who, but he didn’t have the time.
The air vibrated.
The very domain seemed to hold its breath, as if it were aware of what was about to happen. Draco sensed the change even before he saw it—a shiver in the magic, a tremor that ran along his skin, as if something ancient and primordial were awakening.
And then he heard it.
A roar tore through the silence, as deep as the heart of the abyss and resonant like the crash of a thunderstorm. Its echo spread through the chaotic space, bending and distorting it. The power poured forth like a raging river—cruel and unstoppable, a force that could not be ignored.
He looked up—and he saw it.
Wings of shadow and fire unfurled, immense and ever-changing, and a single beat was enough to ignite the air. Twisted horns, like burned tree roots, framed its face, and long, lethal claws resembled the darkness of night. And its eyes… two incandescent abysses, green and golden, in constant flux, like chaos itself.
Harry.
He was no longer just a wizard, nor merely the boy he loved. He had become something beyond—something divine and terrifying. His slender figure floated in the air, enveloped by an aura so intense that it made the space around him vibrate.
Mirathis watched him with a wry smile, utterly unperturbed.
«Ah, you’ve arrived.»
Harry didn’t land. He floated, commanding, as reality twisted under the weight of his presence. The very sky seemed darker, bent to his will.
Then he spoke.
«You. Fucking piece of shit.»
Draco’s eyes widened. The other simply laughed, barely raising an eyebrow.
«Oh, what a warm welcome.»
The dragon tilted his head slightly, his eyes burning with a venomous green light.
«You, you little disgusting worm.» his voice was both a whisper and a thunderclap—a hypnotic chant promising destruction.
Mirathis merely shrugged, unmoved.
«Yes, but thanks to me, you’re awake now.»
The air seemed to tremble. The fire and shadows surrounding Harry flickered, danced around him, pulsating as if they had a life of their own.
Then, slowly, he descended to the ground.
As he advanced, his form reformed. The horns vanished, the wings dissolved into a whirlwind of golden and black smoke, and the fire faded into gentle ripples. When he stopped in front of Draco, he was human once more.
But his eyes… they had lost none of their intensity.
Draco realized he wasn’t breathing.
Harry didn’t even turn toward Mirathis. With a casual gesture of his hand, almost distractedly, he flung the divine being aside. The body of that celestial creature was tossed through the chaotic space as if it were a mere trifle. And he did nothing to stop it; his laughter echoed through the distorted air as he disappeared among the dancing shadows of his realm.
The blonde couldn’t even process it.
Harry was right in front of him, too close, too intense.
His hands rose—cold against Draco’s warm skin—grasping his face with a tenderness that contrasted with the storm still reflected in his eyes. Without a word, he pulled Draco slightly forward, lowering him to his own level, his fingers brushing his cheeks as if to ensure he was real.
He felt the other’s broken breath graze his lips.
Those eyes—they burned with restrained fury, with worry, with something too immense to be contained in words. He was studying him, searching for something out of place, something wrong.
Draco swallowed, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.
«Harry, I’m fine.» he whispered.
The raven‑haired guy’s fingers tightened slightly on his skin, as if he wanted to believe him but couldn’t quite manage it. His gaze quickly shifted over his own body, his hands, as if searching for any sign of invisible damage.
«Didn't you hear me?» Draco pressed, his voice weary and soft.
Harry blinked, as if slowly returning to reality. Yet he didn’t let go. Not yet.
He gritted his teeth, his grip on the taller one’s face growing firmer, though not enough to hurt him. The chaos surrounding him still twisted like ravenous flames refusing to be extinguished.
«Why the hell did you follow him?» he growled, his eyes blazing with anger and something else—something deeper, more visceral.
The other pressed his lips together, not lowering his gaze.
«What if something happened to you and I hadn’t woken up?» he continued, his voice not a shout but his magic spoke for him.
Mirathis’s domain seemed to tremble under the weight of its unstable power.
Draco felt a shiver run down his spine—but not out of fear. No. It was Harry. Harry, who overflowed with power. Harry, who couldn’t contain what he felt, who was burning for him.
«That’s the point!» Draco snapped, exasperated.
«No one knew what to do, Harry! You were like that for almost a week! I wanted to help you!»
The dark‑haired guy blinked rapidly, his breath growing more erratic, but he didn’t immediately respond.
Draco felt his chest tighten as he continued.
«Damn it, I should be the one angry, not you.» his hands clenched into fists against Harry’s chest, yet he didn’t push him away.
«Do you know how I felt? Not even James and Tom knew what to do. I… I felt useless.»
The other one remained silent, his breathing heavy, the magic still restless around him. But Draco saw his pupils dilate slightly, and his fingers trembled for a moment before tightening their grip on him.
Harry still hadn’t let go. And Draco didn’t want him to.
He felt tears stream down his cheeks before he even realized he was crying. A laugh escaped his trembling lips—a broken, almost hysterical sound.
«Ah, damn…» he whispered, clutching the fabric of the Gryffindor’s shirt as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
«At least you’re okay.»
He pressed his forehead against Harry’s, his breathing still uneven.
The other sighed, his gaze softened by a note of amused exasperation.
«Oh, again…» he murmured, lifting a hand to brush his face, his thumb tracing a slow, delicate path along the damp skin of the blonde.
Draco felt his heart tighten even more.
«You haven’t been useless.» Harry’s voice dropped, deep and sure, as if stating an undeniable fact, an absolute truth.
«I’m here only for you.»
He closed his eyes for a moment.
They weren’t words meant to console him. They weren’t words to make him feel better.
They were the truth. The purest and simplest truth.
His lips met the other’s in a silent desperation, a hunger that wasn’t about desire but about need. The need to feel him, to touch him, to be sure he was real.
Harry responded without hesitation, his hands interweaving through Draco’s hair, holding him as if he were his only anchor.
The sound of slow, theatrical applause broke the intimacy of the moment. Draco barely lifted his gaze, his arms still wrapped around the shorter one.
«I think you owe me a thank you.»
Mirathis had reappeared not far away, with his usual amused little smile, as if the entire spectacle had been staged solely for his entertainment.
Harry stiffened in the arms of the blonde, and the latter felt the electric tension of his magic pulsating beneath his skin—unstable, dangerous.
He instinctively held him tighter, the back of the raven‑haired guy pressed against his chest, in sync with the rapid beat of his heart.
«What happened to him, anyway?» he asked, his voice as sharp as ice, his eyes narrowed into two wary slits.
Mirathis tilted his head with his usual smug air.
«Oh, something rather simple, really.» he said with a vague gesture of his hand.
«Harry’s power was suppressed for too long. It’s not meant to be repressed. In the end, it went boom… and started to consume him.»
The Slytherin stiffened, his breath catching for a second. He glanced sideways at the raven‑haired guy, searching for the slightest sign of pain, discomfort, or anything he might have missed.
«Consume him?»
Mirathis nodded, the gold in his eyes flashing with a glimpse of something unfathomable.
«Or he would have been devoured by that power, going mad in the process…» he shook his head slightly.
«Or maybe that’s what’s happening now.»
No sooner had they dematerialized into Harry’s room than a violent impact overwhelmed the shorter one.
«Harry!»
James had literally thrown himself at him, engulfing him in a suffocating embrace, his face pressed into his hair. Harry staggered slightly, caught off guard, while Draco remained a step behind, watching the scene with his arms crossed.
«Don’t ever do that again, did you hear me?!» James muttered, holding him even tighter.
«One week—a damn week without knowing what to do! Your father was about to incinerate half the kingdom!»
Harry huffed but made no attempt to push him away.
«Don’t exaggerate.» he said in a subdued voice.
«I’m not exaggerating! Do you have any idea how many rooms we destroyed trying to figure out what happened to you? Do you think that lunatic has infinite patience?»
As if being called to account, Tom stepped forward from the doorway. He didn’t react as theatrically as James, but his intense gaze and the veiled relief on his face said it all.
«Welcome back.» he said simply.
The Gryffindor tilted his head, noticing the way Tom studied him, as if to ensure he was truly there, whole.
«Thanks.» he replied, before slightly releasing the brunette.
Draco remained silent, but his eyes stayed glued to Harry, as though he didn’t want to lose sight of him for even a second.
«We should let you rest.» Tom said in a neutral tone, though the Gryffindor caught a slight hesitation in his voice.
James nodded, giving him one last look as if to confirm once more that he was really there, that he wouldn’t vanish the moment he looked away. Finally, he relented and tousled his hair with a brusque gesture.
«See you later.» he murmured, before dragging Tom out of the room.
Silence fell as soon as the door closed behind them.
Harry sank onto the edge of the bed with a sigh, brushing his still slightly numb arm. Then his gaze fell on the bedside table.
Books. Notes. Parchments arranged with an almost obsessive precision.
«Oh.» he murmured, tilting his head. «Luna brought me Blaise’s class notes.»
Draco, who had been leaning against the door frame until then, followed his gaze and smiled faintly.
«Hermione, I think she’s planning how to kill you.» he joked, moving toward him in a relaxed manner, but the dark‑haired guy wasn’t fooled.
He looked him over carefully. The blonde’s eyes were ringed with fatigue, his shoulders stiff, as if he hadn’t allowed himself a single moment of rest in days.
Slowly, he raised a hand and caressed his cheek. Draco closed his eyes for a moment, almost collapsing under that touch.
Then, without a word, he let himself fall onto the bed and pulled him along, holding him in a tight embrace. He did not resist when he felt Draco’s head sink into the curve of his neck, the other’s breath brushing his skin in a reassuring caress.
«Let’s stay like this for a while.» the blonde murmured, his voice already heavy with sleep.
The shorter one closed his eyes, letting the outside world fade away as Draco’s breathing became slower and more regular against his skin.