Swimming in the Black Lake
People all around Harry were touching hands, arms, and fingers, trying to find their person. Harry hadn't touched anyone but Ron and Hermione, and he really didn't want to.
Harry was worried. He had expected, out of everything that had gone wrong in his life, that this would go right. But he could still feel the burn of his unbonded mark under his robe sleeve.
“You good, mate?” Ron said, drawing Harry out of his thoughts. “You've been really quiet.”
Harry blinked. “Sorry, I've just been thinking about things.”
“Things?” Hermione said, her eyebrow raised slightly.
“Things.” Harry nodded, his tone indicating he wasn't going to talk about it.
“Alright, mate. Whatever you say.” Ron turned around to talk Quidditch with Seamus again, continuing where they left off.
After everyone settled down, plates of dessert and pastries mounted into heaps, filling plates and grand dishes to their brims. The Hall filled with the scraping of dishes and pleased moans.
The smell of the food was intoxicating, causing Harry’s mouth to water even though he was anything but hungry. He placed a few sad-looking cakes and other treats onto his large plate, mostly for show, but the looks Hermione was giving him made Harry second-guess not eating.
Harry shovelled some sweets into his mouth, if only to appease the strict looks Hermione was giving at his dessert-filled plate. She smiled when he started chewing, and he scowled at her, stuffing a pastry that looked an awful lot like a croissant into his mouth.
After dessert was finally over, the students shuffled out of the hall, full and seemingly in a good mood, probably because of the lack of classes. Harry wasn't the biggest fan of classes, but it might have been nice to have something to distract him from the burning in his arm.
The burn had softened to an itchy sting, but it was still worrying that his mark was burning at all. Maybe he should talk to Dumbledore about it; he would surely know what was going on. Then again, Dumbledore had been quite distant this year, and Harry wasn't sure he would even talk to Harry, let alone explain something that could be completely normal for all Harry knew.
He could probably ask Hermione about bond marks and whether they should hurt or not. She had done enough research to know almost anything about them, and if she didn't know, she would spend every day utilizing the library to find the answer. But asking her would just raise questions, and Harry wasn't sure whether he should tell anyone about this yet.
Lost in his whirlpool of thoughts, he barely noticed Hermione and Ron pulling him out of his seat and leading him towards the doors, and he definitely wasn't paying attention when he walked into a tall blonde-haired boy wearing green.
“Oh, sor-” Skin to skin, hand to hand. Harry felt like he was swimming in the Black Lake again. Weighed down by those he loved, trying to reach the surface; a futile endeavor. Then he broke free, light and air swarming his senses, stinging his eyes and filling his empty lungs. He felt… whole. It was like all his life he had been in a fog, and now it was sunny out; the clouds were gone! Only seconds had passed, but he felt like years had gone by when wide grey eyes finally met his.
Harry felt as though he would faint. He grabbed onto Ron's arm to hold himself up, still overcome by the feeling of longevity.
“You good, mate?” Ron said, sounding startled. He met Harry’s gaze and slowly looked back to where Harry had stopped. The redhead caught the piercing stare of Draco Malfoy and paled at the unreadable but still wide-eyed expression on his face. Malfoy’s pupils were blown, and his breaths were sparse, much the same as Harry’s.
“What did you do to him, Malfoy‽” Ron yelled, his tone hardening.
“I…” Malfoy seemed to have no words. His large pupils contracted, and he coughed. “Nothing, Weasley,” he spat. “Just remembered an assignment I forgot to finish.” The Slytherin strided away quickly, ducking behind a corner and fleeing.
“Harry? What in Merlin's name was that about?” Ron said, and Hermione, who had caught up to them, nodded. “Yes, Harry. I would like to know that too.” She said.
He just shook his head. The mark on his arm had stopped burning momentarily, only to start tingling, one of the best feelings he had ever experienced.
“Nothing, it's—I'm fine! Great, actually! Let's go back to the common rooms; you wanted a game of chess, didn’t you, Ron?” He was mildly concerned about the fact he was being completely honest about how ‘great’ he was. He would have felt great—he did feel great! As long as he didn't think about what had just happened with Malfoy…
*******
“Rook to e1,” says Ron; the board complies. “I win.” Ron says smugly, leaning back in his chair.
Harry rolls his eyes and sighs. Like it was an option for Harry to win. He never won against Ron.
“Good game.” Harry said flatly, standing up to stretch his tight muscles.
“Yeah right, mate. You did rubbish. Worse than usual, and I wasn't sure that was possible. What's wrong, Harry?” Ron said, his voice sounding concerned, a good sign that Harry should better his act; Ron wasn't the most… observant person, and if he had noticed something was up, ‘Mione would be all over him when she came back from the library.
“No, I'm fine, mate. Just knackered; I was up studying last night.” Harry said, yawning for the part.
“OK, mate, whatever you say. You should probably go up before Hermione comes back, though. You will never hear the end of it if she starts worrying about you.” Ron said, eyeing his homework warily. “I have to finish this potions essay; it's bullocks, really, but ‘Mione says I have to finish it, and you know how she gets.”
Harry chuckled, “Yeah, you should probably try and finish that before she comes up. I'm going to head up to the dorm.”
“Good, good. I guess I'll try and finish these seven inches.” Ron sighed.
Harry walked up the dormitory stairs, quickly grabbing a change of clothes and jumping into the shower. The soul marking ceremony was known to make people tired, and the mark on his wrist was still stinging pleasantly, making his head swim with a sense of pleasure and drowsiness. He wasn’t sure how he had even survived a game of chess without collapsing in exhaustion.
Pulling off his robes, he gasped when he saw his forearm in the fluorescent bathroom light. There was a green and silver snake wrapped around his arm, twisting into a pattern of moons and stars. A bright ruby diamond was engraved on the snake's body, marking it with gold and red; Gryffindor colours.
It was a truly pretty mark, and if he didn't think about Malfoy having activated its making, he was thrilled with how beautiful it was.
Harry turned on the shower, still watching his forearm as if the snake would jump out and attack him.
Wearily, he stepped into the almost unbearably hot water, sighing when the liquid ran over his tense back muscles. He washed himself with his pumpkin-smelling body wash and shampoo. Then, once he got out of the shower, he threw on his night robes, jumped into bed, and flicked his hand to close the curtains.
Then Harry paused. He had been doing that a lot lately, wandless and wordless magic. It was usually by accident and when he was alone. It had become almost second nature to use his wandless magic—and easier.
He shook his head. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't important, and if it was important, he would deal with it another day; he was just too exhausted to comprehend anything major right now.
Harry closed his eyes and pushed away all thoughts of that day. He would figure out his painful sould mark, what to do about Malfoy, and the wandless magic tomorrow.