The Noctis Codex | DRARRY

TWELVE

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridors as Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed through the castle, weaving through the early morning crowd of students. Harry barely registered the whispers and stares from other students as he gripped the strap of his bag, his mind consumed by the strange black mark that had appeared on his hand.

"What could it be, Harry?" Hermione asked, glancing at the mark, her brow furrowed in concern. "It looks... I don't know, dark. Magical. Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

"No pain. Just... it wasn't there yesterday, and I don't know how it got there. I need to find Draco. I need to see if he has one too."

Ron cast his friend a wary look. "Mate, you don't think this has something to do with... you know, whatever's been going on between you two? The dreams?"

"Exactly." The dark-haired quickened his pace as they neared the entrance to the Great Hall. His friends followed, their faces a mix of worry and confusion as they tried to keep up with him.

Just then, Harry spotted Draco entering, flanked by Pansy and Blaise, who seemed to be deep in conversation. Without a second thought, he broke away from Ron and Hermione and darted across the hall, ignoring their surprised protests. He reached Draco just as the Slytherins were about to sit, his hand shooting out to grab the blond's arm.

Draco turned, startled, his eyes narrowing when he saw who it was. Pansy and Blaise shared a bewildered look, stepping back slightly.

"Potter, what on earth—"

"Malfoy, I need to talk to you. Now."

Draco's expression shifted as he took in Harry's serious tone. With a quick glance back at his friends, he gave a curt nod. "Fine." He allowed himself to be pulled down the hall and into a dim, quieter alcove off the main corridor, away from prying eyes.

Harry took a deep breath, and before he could speak, Draco looked down at the other's hand and let out a bitter sigh. "You have it too, don't you?"

"You mean... you have this mark?" Harry blinked, surprised.

Without another word, Draco pulled off the black gloves he had been wearing. He held out his hand, and the younger man felt a chill run down his spine as he saw the mark—identical to his own—etched in dark lines against the Slytherin's skin, small but somehow ominous.

"So it's not just me," Harry murmured, the words barely audible. "What is this?"

Draco shook his head, slipping the gloves back on with a look of irritation. "I don't know, Potter. But it doesn't feel like anything good." His voice dropped, and he met Harry's eyes, a rare glint of fear flickering in his gaze. "We'll tell Snape. After classes. He'll know what to do."

Although Harry nodded, he felt an uneasy knot settle in his stomach. He knew whatever this mark meant, it was dangerous. And it was only a matter of time before they found out just how dangerous.

After a long day of half-heartedly participating in classes, both students made their way to Snape's office, the weight of the marks pulling their minds into a haze of dread. Snape was waiting, standing with his usual grim expression. But as soon as they showed him their hands, his face went rigid.

His gaze lingered on the marks, his jaw clenching. Finally, he looked back at them, his voice tight. "This is... grave news. Follow me. We're going to see the headmistress. And... a few others."

The hallways felt colder as they trailed Snape to Professor McGonagall's office, each of them weighed down by a silence thick with unspoken fears. Harry glanced over at Draco, who looked as troubled as he felt.