Chapter 32
Time flowed on, relentless as a river that sculpted rocks without ever stopping. And yet, for the two of them, time seemed to have come to a standstill. Two centuries had passed since they had left Hogwarts, since the world they once knew had changed before their eyes.
Harry and Draco had been living in Velmoria for decades—a realm shrouded in primordial magic, far removed from the chaos of the British magical world, a place where the laws of magic were different, older, and deeper. For anyone else, two hundred years would have been an eternity.
Not much had changed for them. Time had brushed past without consuming them, leaving them almost unchanged. Their faces had not surrendered to wrinkles, their bodies had not lost strength. Only their eyes, perhaps, shone with a weight they hadn’t known two hundred years before.
Draco had spent the first years after Hogwarts traveling among the oldest magical realms, studying healing magic and the art of potions, immersing himself in forgotten secrets and forbidden knowledge. Harry, on the other hand, had left his mark on history. The youngest, most talented Seeker ever, the only one to surpass Viktor Krum in his own record. The world spoke of him as a Quidditch legend, but his career had been brief. After a handful of years, he had decided to retire, leaving behind an echo of admiration and wonder—and he had joined Draco.
They had seen Hermione marry Krum, seen Ron and Blaise exchange vows under Avalon’s Enchanted Tree. They had watched their children grow, and then their grandchildren. They had witnessed their final days. They had buried everyone. Yet, they remained the same.
The courtyard was surrounded by tall marble columns, engraved with ancient protective spells and reinforced by magic. The sunset’s light tinted the white stones with gold, while the echo of metal clashing against metal filled the air.
Draco moved with lethal grace, his sword whirling in his hands with an almost inhuman precision. His silver hair shone in the warm light, contrasting with the dark shirt clinging to his body. Every movement was calculated, his weight perfectly balanced with each step. It was a hypnotic spectacle.
In front of him, Tom watched with an amused smile, his sword perfectly still as he waited for the next attack. Then, with a rapid and unexpected movement, he lunged, forcing Draco to step back. But he left him no time to recover. With a quick play of his legs and a well-placed blow, he knocked Draco off balance, causing him to fall disastrously to the ground.
The blonde snorted irritably, raising his gaze with an assassin’s look toward Tom, who openly laughed.
It was at that moment that Harry stepped forward, his expression impassive as he observed the scene.
«Tom.» His voice was calm, but the tone carried a clear warning.
The man turned with a sly smile «You could try calling me father at least once.» he complained with feigned indignation, though the smile on his lips betrayed his amusement.
Harry completely ignored him, his steps directed toward Draco, who by then had already gotten up, dusting himself off with an irritated air. When Harry was close to him, Draco crossed his arms and shot Tom a withering look.
«Don’t say anything.» he warned in advance, but Harry couldn’t help but let a slight smile play on his lips.
«You’re good.» the dark‑haired guy said naturally.
Draco rolled his eyes theatrically, but the slight smile that touched his lips betrayed him «Speak, Mr. Prodigy.» he replied, his tone just sarcastic enough, yet his eyes remained fixed on those of the shorter one.
There was a fraction of a second of silence before the blonde moved closer lightly, tilting his face until it brushed Harry’s lips in a quick, almost fleeting kiss.
«I’m going to change and join you.» he murmured against Harry’s lips, then turned with his usual elegant grace.
Tom, who until that moment had watched the exchange with amusement, raised an eyebrow «I’d still be here.» he said, almost offended at being ignored.
Harry merely shot him a bored look and, without deigning to reply, turned and left, leaving him behind.
Tom sighed with an amused smile «What an ungrateful brat.» he muttered to himself, then crossed his arms and shook his head with a bemused expression.
He barely lifted his gaze at the sound of a voice all too familiar «From what pulpit?» interjected James with a little amused smile, his arms crossed as he watched the scene with obvious amusement.
The taller one wasted no time. In an instant, he moved toward him with predatory grace, grabbed him by the waist, and pulled him close with a decisiveness that brooked no argument.
James snorted, but did nothing to pull away. In fact, his smile widened slightly as he felt Tom’s breath against his skin.
«What are you trying to insinuate?» he asked in a low, velvety tone, his voice trailing along the other’s neck, where he planted a slow, almost distracted kiss.
The brunette raised an eyebrow, amused «Me? Oh, nothing.» he replied with feigned innocence, though the mischievous glimmer in his eyes betrayed the opposite.
Tom shook his head with a sigh, pulling him even closer «Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you.»
James chuckled «Because you love me. Obviously.»
Draco strolled elegantly down the corridors, his hands tucked into the pockets of his light-colored trousers as he let his gaze wander distractedly among the tapestries and ornate windows. The atmosphere of Velmoria was always enveloped in a magical aura that made everything more vivid, but at that moment, his interest was captured by a far more intriguing scene.
Harry.
He was standing in the middle of the hall, surrounded by a group of nobles with a pretentious air, engaged in a discussion with him about matters that clearly didn’t interest him at all. His relaxed posture contrasted with the attention the others seemed to pay him, as if every word he spoke were pure gold. But Draco knew him all too well.
For a brief moment, his green eyes—always incandescent—moved to him, offering a fleeting smile before returning to fix, with an unmistakably bored expression, on a noble who was speaking with too much emphasis about some magical treatise.
Draco shook his head amusedly and leaned nonchalantly against a marble column, raising an eyebrow as he did.
«Do you want me to take you away?» he asked through their mental link, his voice lightly amused.
Harry didn’t respond immediately. He simply tilted his head slightly, as if considering the proposal, then his gaze shifted back to Draco with a flash of challenge in his eyes.
«I’m waiting for you.»
James had materialized before them with an expression that was somewhere between reproach and exasperation. His arms were crossed, his gaze shifting first to Harry, then to Draco, and then back to Harry with a clear message of disapproval.
«Really?» he began, shaking his head «Does that seem like adult behavior to you?»
Harry huffed, crossing his arms «It was a pointless meeting, Father.»
«It wasn’t pointless—it was diplomacy!» James insisted, then pointed a finger at Draco.
«And you! You can’t just show up, say something utterly implausible, and drag him away!»
Draco simply raised an eyebrow with a haughty air.
James opened his mouth to say something more, but Tom stepped in with his usual relaxed smile and tried to defuse the situation «James, come on, calm—»
The brunette shot him a withering look «You shut up; you don’t even show up at meetings!»
Tom raised his hands in surrender, but his smile didn’t waver «Yes, but they’re boring, you can’t deny that.»
James gave him a frustrated look «Yes, but…»
Harry watched the scene with an amused air, while Draco offered a smug little smile. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair with a long sigh of resignation.
«At least next time, say something credible…» he muttered, defeated.
Harry descended the stone steps leading to the castle’s dungeons, a place shrouded in profound silence, interrupted only by the drip of water running through some hidden pipe. The torches on the walls cast a dim, flickering light, but it was the glow from the potions and alembics that imbued the room with a true atmosphere of living magic.
Draco’s laboratory was a space of order and chaos at once. Long dark wooden tables were strewn with scrolls containing formulas, precision instruments, glass vials, and ampoules filled with liquids of the most varied colors. The air was redolent with the scent of rare herbs and alchemical ingredients, with a sulfurous note betraying the presence of some particularly potent substance in the process of distillation.
Draco stood in the center of the room, completely absorbed in his work. He wore a light shirt, its collar slightly unbuttoned, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his fair skin marked here and there by faint traces of ink and ingredient dust. His platinum hair, usually impeccable, fell slightly disheveled across his forehead as he concentrated.
His movements were precise, elegant, almost hypnotic. He carefully stirred the potion in a silver cauldron, the liquid inside shimmering with iridescent reflections. Every so often he added an ingredient with the precision of a master, attentively watching the change in color and consistency.
Harry paused at the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, silently observing him. He loved seeing Draco like this: completely immersed in his art, in his element. There was something utterly fascinating about the way he moved, the intensity with which he scrutinized every detail, and the confidence with which he controlled even the subtlest variation in the potion.
After a few moments, Draco spoke without even lifting his eyes from the cauldron.
«Are you, by any chance, enjoying the show?» he asked, his voice carrying a note of amusement.
The dark‑haired guy offered a slight smile, pushing himself away from the wall and stepping further into the room.
«Definitely.» he replied nonchalantly «You should see yourself—you look almost… fascinating.»
The taller one finally lifted his eyes to meet his, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
«Almost?»
Harry paused beside him, lowering his gaze back to the potion «It depends on the outcome.»
The blonde huffed, shaking his head, and returned to stirring the potion «If you don’t mess it all up, it’ll be perfect.»
The shorter one chuckled, resting his hands on the edge of the table as he watched him with interest.
«Oh, don’t worry. I’ll let you work on your little masterpiece in peace.» he said, nodding toward the cauldron «And besides, I love watching you work.»
Draco didn’t reply immediately, but the way his eyes sparkled for a moment betrayed him.
In the end, he simply said in a dismissive tone «Then shut up and let me concentrate.»
Harry smiled, well aware that, deep down, the other adored having him there.