Chapter 28
Harry woke to the world wrapped in an unreal calm, his body still pleasantly heavy and warm beneath the sheets. For a moment, he lay still, letting the steady rhythm of his boyfriend’s breathing beside him anchor him in that quiet.
Then, with an almost reverential slowness, he turned onto his side, his gaze resting on the sleeping figure beside him.
Draco was deep in slumber, his breathing slow and measured, his pale lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks. His platinum blonde hair was a tousled mess, disheveled by their touch and by sleep, with soft strands falling over his forehead and temples. His lips, slightly parted, still retained a gentle flush, as if the warmth of the previous night had not yet faded.
Light filtered through the heavy curtains, grazing Draco’s fair skin with golden reflections that accentuated every line of his face. Harry let his eyes wander along the elegant curve of his jaw—an aristocratic profile even in the stillness of sleep—down to his neck, where dark marks bore silent testimony to the night they had shared.
But then his gaze drifted upward, to the left ear.
There it was—a mark etched into his skin like a scar of pure magic.
The wound left by the bite had fully healed, yet in its place remained a thin, luminous line of liquid gold, tracing the upper curve of his ear with an unnatural elegance. Along that golden thread, tiny silver scales shimmered in the morning light like fragments of stars embedded in his skin.
Harry didn’t move as he observed Draco, his fingers lingering near the mark. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, simply memorizing every detail of his skin, the curve of his breath, the way his lashes trembled slightly before opening.
The blonde stirred in his sleep with a soft sigh, and his eyelids slowly lifted, revealing the pale silver of his eyes still hazy from sleep.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, before he could speak, the other reached out a hand, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him close in an embrace that allowed no escape. Harry huffed in surprise as he felt Draco’s weight cling to him.
«Good morning to you.» he murmured.
The taller one didn’t reply immediately. His face was buried in the hollow of the dark‑haired guy’s neck, his warm breath caressing his skin. His arms tightened around his back as if to hold him fast, to prevent him from moving or letting go even for a second.
«Five minutes.» he finally mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.
Harry smiled, closing his eyes as he raised a hand to run his fingers through the blonde’s hair.
He stopped at the bathroom doorway, a towel still in his hands, as he watched Draco with a slightly raised eyebrow. The blonde was still lying on the bed—hair disheveled, eyes half-closed and weighed down by sleep—but there was something different in his expression.
«Do you feel something different?» he asked, leaning lazily against the doorframe.
The other snorted and stretched slightly before collapsing back onto the mattress with an exasperated groan. “Besides feeling utterly exhausted?” he replied in his morning-hoarse voice.
The shorter one smiled faintly as he continued drying his hair.
Draco lifted himself slightly onto his elbows, fixing the dark‑haired guy with a scowl. He tilted his head to the side, squinting as if trying to focus more clearly.
«Okay... maybe there’s something strange.» he murmured, almost to himself.
The dark‑haired guy furrowed his brows «What?»
He didn’t answer immediately. He continued to stare, his gaze wandering as if he were seeing something just out of his grasp.
«I think I see your aura?» he finally said, but it sounded more like a doubt—a question left hanging in the air—than a certainty.
The blonde blinked, as if only then realizing what he was actually seeing. The air around him seemed to vibrate, as if he were enveloped by something alive, pulsating. A dense black smoke coiled around his figure like liquid shadow, yet among the dark spirals, delicate golden threads intertwined with the darkness, and here and there, tiny green scales flashed for an instant before vanishing like ashes carried off by the wind.
Harry remained silent for a moment. Then he sighed, running a hand through his still-damp hair.
«Interesting.» he said simply, though his tone wasn’t one of surprise. It almost sounded… pleased.
Draco raised an eyebrow, but before he could reply, his attention returned to the strange aura still swirling around his boyfriend. It was hypnotic, as if it had a will of its own.
He didn’t take his eyes off the aura that enveloped him, fascinated by its constant mutation. Then a thought struck him.
«So… do you see this on everyone?» he asked, intrigued.
«Yes.» the other nodded.
He took a moment to reflect on that answer. It meant that he had always perceived the true nature of everyone he met—to understand their intentions even before they spoke. Part of him found that incredibly unfair.
He remained silent for a moment, still half-sunk into the pillow, then a thought hit him suddenly. He sat up abruptly, his light eyes fixed on Harry with an accusatory look.
«No, wait. So you’re telling me that you’ve always known what I felt, but you ignored me?»
The dark‑haired guy scrunched his nose, his lips twisting into a guilty smirk «Uhm…»
The taller one stared at him, waiting for a response, but the other simply changed the subject with complete nonchalance.
«Anyway, I don’t really know what changes you might have undergone, so I’ll have you checked by Elyss.»
«Oh no, don’t do that.» he snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Harry.
But the other had already turned his back, pretending not to hear, clearly determined to end the conversation. Draco sank back onto the bed with an exasperated groan.
«There aren’t many books on the Bound and such.» Harry continued, nonchalantly, as if the subject were merely an annoying complication «I’ll ask my father, since it all started with him.»
His tone was vague, but Draco noticed how his fingers fidgeted with the towel, absentmindedly—a small detail that revealed more than he cared to let on.
«Now, though…» he finally said, fixing his gaze on the blonde with a spark of impatience in his eyes «Get up.»
He stared at him for a moment before sinking back into the pillow with a stubborn groan.
«Five minutes.»
The dark‑haired guy crossed his arms and shook his head «Draco.»
The blonde extended an arm to try and grab him and pull him into the bed with him, but the other evaded him all too easily.
«It doesn’t work on me.» he said, the corners of his lips curving into a smirk of superiority.
Malfoy grumbled something incomprehensible before casting a sullen look at him.
«I hate you.»
«Of course I do.»
The September air was fresh and invigorating as the red Hogwarts Express locomotive belched steam on the bustling platform of students and parents. They easily found their compartment, where Hermione, Ron, and Blaise were already settled.
The Ravenclaw was immersed in a book as usual, the redhead was munching on a Cioccorana, and Zabini wore a relaxed expression with a slight smile as he watched them enter.
«Oh, finally.» the brunette snorted, closing her book with a thud.
«I thought you’d decided to get lost somewhere and skip the start of school.»
The blonde raised an eyebrow as he flopped into the seat next to Blaise.
«And miss the pleasure of another year with you? Never.» he said in a sarcastic tone.
«So…» began Blaise, with a sardonic little smile «I still can’t believe he actually wrote it.»
«Zabini, guess who’s immortal? See you in a few days, plebeian.» Ron recited from memory, perfectly imitating Draco’s tone.
The blonde crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow «How the hell do you know, Weasley?»
The redhead simply pointed at his boyfriend with his thumb «I was with him when he got your letter.»
Blaise looked at him for a long moment, then shook his head with a smile «You know, Malfoy, I think you’re a complete idiot when it comes to Harry.»
Draco stiffened.
«Only you could write something like that while you were in total panic.»
Harry chuckled without saying anything, but the blonde noticed how the corners of his mouth had curled up slightly.
The blonde turned to him, squinting «Did you say anything to Weasley and Granger?»
The Gryffindor looked up at him with his usual inscrutable expression.
«Do you really think he’d say something?» snapped Hermione, exasperated.
«Yes, you’re right.» sighed Malfoy.
The Ravenclaw leaned slightly forward, trying not to seem too curious, though it was clear she was.
«So, how does it feel anyway? Have you noticed any changes?»
The blonde leaned back against the seat, reflecting for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly.
«It hasn’t changed much.» he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure.
«I perceive the magic more subtly…» he paused, then added, as if it were the most natural thing in the world «Ah! I’ve become immune to Avada Kedavra and I don’t die if I drink dangerous potions.»
There was a moment of silence in the compartment.
Hermione blinked «Excuse me?»
«Ah, and I don’t get drunk!» he continued, nodding as if it were the most interesting discovery ever.
Ron stared at him, shocked «Wait, wait… you’re telling me you can drink as much Fiery Whiskey as you want and it won’t affect you?»
Hermione shot him a look of disdain «Is that the part that struck you the most?»
Blaise chuckled «I say we test it as soon as we get to school.»
«Terrible idea.» interjected Harry without even taking his eyes off the window.
«Oh, come on, Potter. Don’t you want to know just how far this immunity goes?»
«No.» he replied flatly.
The brunette ran a hand over her face, visibly regretting having asked the question.
Ron sighed «The last thing he needed was something to boost his self‑esteem even more.»
«I agree.» added Blaise.
Meanwhile, Harry seemed focused on staring out the window, but Draco knew he was stifling a laugh.