ᏕᎮᏗᏒᏦᏕ

𝖲𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝖺𝗌𝗍

The following days passed in a blur. Draco's recovery was slow, but steady. Rhea rarely left his side, watching over him in the hospital wing as Madame Pomfrey fussed about, brewing potions and muttering about the dangers of meddling with dark magic. Draco, too weak to argue, accepted the help in silence. But the tension between them, the shared knowledge of what they had done, was palpable.

As Draco lay resting, Rhea sat by the window, her gaze drifting out over the grounds of Hogwarts. The crisp autumn air brushed through the trees, the castle grounds awash in shades of gold and crimson. It was beautiful, peaceful even, but inside her chest, a storm still raged. The spell had worked. The curse was bound. Yet, the weight of the darkness they had touched lingered in the air, like the shadow of something unfinished.

Draco stirred beside her, drawing her attention. His pale face had regained some of its color, though his eyes still carried the weight of what they'd been through. When he opened them, his gaze locked with hers, and for a moment, the world outside vanished. It was just the two of them, bound by a secret too dark to share with anyone else.

"You're staring," Draco muttered, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Rhea smiled softly, leaning closer. "You were out for a while. I was beginning to think you were enjoying all the attention."

Draco scoffed, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Hardly. If I have to drink another one of Madame Pomfrey's potions, I might actually choose the curse."

Rhea's laughter was soft, but it filled the quiet room, easing some of the tension between them. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed moments like these—moments where Draco could be himself without the weight of his family's legacy crushing him.

But even as they shared a brief moment of levity, Rhea couldn't shake the unease that had settled in her chest since the night of the binding. She had seen something in Draco's eyes that night—something dark and ancient that hadn't been fully exorcised by the spell. The curse was bound, yes, but it hadn't disappeared.

"Draco," she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you feel... different?"

Draco's expression darkened at her words. He pushed himself up on his elbows, his gaze serious as he studied her face. "You mean, do I feel like the curse is gone?"

Rhea nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.

Draco was silent for a long moment, his brow furrowing in thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost hesitant. "I don't feel it pulling at me like it used to. The constant pressure... it's gone. But there's something else."

Rhea's breath hitched. "Something else?"

Draco's eyes flickered with something unreadable—fear, maybe, or uncertainty. "It's hard to explain. It's like... a shadow. It's not pulling at me, but I can feel it there, waiting. Watching."

A chill ran down Rhea's spine at his words. She had feared as much. The binding spell had stopped the curse from consuming Draco, but it hadn't erased it completely. It was still there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of weakness.

"What do we do now?" she asked quietly, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Draco's jaw clenched as he sat up fully, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "We figure out how to control it."

Rhea frowned, her heart sinking. "You mean... use the curse?"

Draco shook his head. "Not use it. Master it. My family's legacy may be dark, but if I can learn to control the power that comes with it, I won't have to live in fear of it anymore."

Rhea's mind raced at his words. The idea of Draco wielding the dark magic that had plagued his family for generations was terrifying. But she understood his reasoning. The curse was part of him now, bound to his blood. If he didn't find a way to control it, it would always remain a threat.

"Are you sure that's the right path?" Rhea asked, her voice trembling slightly. "Dark magic is dangerous, Draco. Even if you learn to control it, it could change you."

Draco's gaze softened as he reached out, taking her hand in his. "I won't let it change me. Not again. But I won't live my life in fear of something I can't control, either."

Rhea searched his eyes, looking for any trace of the boy who had been so consumed by the curse just days before. But the Draco in front of her now was different—stronger, more determined. And for the first time, she saw hope in his eyes.

"I believe in you," she whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "But we need to be careful."

Draco nodded, his grip tightening around hers. "We will be. Together."

The following week, Draco returned to classes, and life at Hogwarts seemed to return to normal—or as normal as it could be after everything they had been through. But the tension between them never fully disappeared. They were both waiting, watching for any sign that the curse was still lurking, ready to resurface.

Rhea threw herself into her studies, hoping to find any clues that could help Draco control the dark magic within him. She spent hours in the library, pouring over ancient texts, but every lead seemed to fizzle out, leaving her more frustrated than before.

Meanwhile, Draco had grown quieter, more withdrawn. He had taken to spending long hours in the Room of Requirement, practicing spells and pushing himself to the limits of his magic. Rhea had joined him a few times, but she could see the strain it was putting on him. The power was growing, but so was the danger.

One evening, as Rhea sat in the library, her mind swirling with thoughts of Draco, she felt a sudden chill run down her spine. She looked up, her eyes scanning the dimly lit room, but there was no one there. Yet, the feeling of being watched lingered, sending a shiver down her back.

"Rhea," a voice whispered from the shadows, barely audible but unmistakable.

Her heart raced as she stood up, her hand gripping her wand tightly. "Who's there?"

There was no response, but the air around her seemed to thicken, the shadows in the corners of the room growing darker, more oppressive. She could feel the magic, dark and cold, seeping into the air.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows—tall, cloaked, with eyes that gleamed unnaturally in the dim light. Rhea's breath caught in her throat as the figure stepped closer, the darkness swirling around them like a living thing.

"Rhea..." the voice whispered again, low and chilling.

Rhea raised her wand, her hand trembling. "Stay back!"

The figure stopped, their face obscured by the hood of their cloak. But Rhea could feel the darkness radiating from them, the same darkness that had clung to Draco after the binding spell.

"You've meddled with things you don't understand," the figure said softly, their voice echoing unnervingly in the quiet room. "The curse cannot be controlled. And it's only a matter of time before it consumes him... and you."

Rhea's heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to stand her ground. "Who are you?"

The figure chuckled darkly, their voice dripping with malice. "I am the shadow that lingers in the Malfoy bloodline. And I will not be bound by the likes of you."

Before Rhea could react, the figure disappeared, melting back into the shadows as if they had never been there at all.

Rhea stood frozen, her heart racing and her mind spinning. The curse wasn't bound. It was still there, waiting in the shadows.

And it was coming for them both.