The Noctis Codex | DRARRY

THIRTEEN

The stands around the Quidditch pitch were a sea of excitement, the Gryffindor and Slytherin students buzzing with anticipation for one of the most highly anticipated matches of the year. Harry hovered on his broom, his eyes scanning the pitch, heart pounding with that familiar thrill. Across from him, Draco was doing the same, the two Seekers locked in silent rivalry, each determined to catch the Golden Snitch.

The game was intense, the players weaving through the air in a blur of red and green as the crowd's cheers echoed around them. Suddenly, Harry's gaze caught a glimmer of gold darting near the far side of the pitch. In an instant, he and Draco bolted toward it, their eyes locked on the prize, each pushing his broom to the limit.

But just as they neared the Snitch, a searing pain exploded in their hands, radiating from the dark marks that had been spreading, twisting across their skin like roots of a dark curse. The pain was so intense it was blinding, disorienting them mid-air as their brooms wobbled unsteadily beneath them.

Harry's vision went hazy as he fought to keep his grip, but the agony was too much. His hand slipped from his broom, and he felt himself falling, plummeting toward the earth as the pain pulsed in brutal waves. Just before his senses completely gave way, he caught a blurred glimpse of Draco—falling too, right beside him.

In the chaos of pain and confusion, the blond's instincts took over. He reached out, his arms wrapping around Harry in an unthinking, desperate motion, pulling him close as they hurtled toward the ground. As the grass rushed up to meet them, Draco turned, taking the brunt of the impact himself, the force of the fall slamming him into the ground. His head struck hard, and everything around him went dark.
—
When Draco finally stirred, the faint throbbing in his head pulled him back to reality. Blinking groggily, he took in the familiar sight of the hospital wing, the soft, sterile light blurring the edges of the room. His whole body ached, but the worst of it was centered in his head, a dull, relentless pain hammering beneath his temples.

He shifted, wincing as he sat up, and that was when he noticed Harry slumped over beside him, his head resting on the edge of the bed. He looked exhausted, dark circles etched beneath his eyes, his hair falling messily over his forehead as he slept.

Draco rolled his eyes and, without thinking, gave the dark-haired a sharp flick to the forehead. "Wake up, Potter."

Jolting awake, Harry blinked rapidly as he looked around, his eyes finally settling on Draco. Relief softened his features. "You're awake."

The blond only snorted. "Yes, unfortunately." He glanced down at his hand, flexing it carefully, and frowned. The dark mark had grown, creeping further along his skin, and the sight made his stomach turn. He glanced at the other's hand, noticing the same dark sprawl on his skin. "So... the curse started spreading, hm?"

"That's what caused the pain." Harry nodded, his expression darkening.

They both fell silent, the weight of their shared predicament settling heavily around them. After a moment, the visitor cleared his throat, his voice softer. "Thank you... for saving me."

Draco abruptly tensed, an unexpected pang of something close to discomfort at the gratitude in Harry's voice. He looked away, letting out a sharp breath. "I... I don't know why I did it," he admitted. "Never thought I'd be the one saving the mighty Harry Potter."

Said boy's lips quirked in a faint smile. "Well, you did. And I'm still here because of you."

Draco felt a strange tug in his chest at Harry's words, and he shifted uncomfortably. His fingers itched with a new kind of impulse, one that felt far too unfamiliar and intrusive. Almost instinctively, his hand moved forward, reaching toward the other's face, where a few stray strands of hair fell messily over his eyes.