The Noctis Codex | DRARRY

FOURTEEN

The Great Hall was buzzing with the kind of excitement that only the holiday season could bring. Snow was gently drifting down from the enchanted ceiling, dusting the tables and sparking in the glow of the countless floating candles. Students were huddled together, leaning across tables to share whispers and laughter, the usual tensions softened by the promise of Christmas break. Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, absently poking at his breakfast, his eyes drifting over to the Slytherin table more often than he'd like to admit.

Since that awkward, intimate moment in the hospital wing, he and Draco had barely exchanged a word outside of classes or those painfully tense weekly meetings with McGonagall to track the curse's progression. The marks had crept up to nearly their elbows now, dark vines that both fascinated and unnerved him. The progress felt like an ominous countdown. It should have been a reason for them to talk, maybe even figure out why their bond seemed to intensify with each passing week, but neither had made a move to bridge the uncomfortable distance between them.

Just as he thought this, the enchanted chimes echoed through the Hall, and Headmistress McGonagall rose from the staff table, commanding the room's attention with a dignified wave of her hand. The chatter fell silent.

"Ahem," she began, her gaze sweeping over the students. "With the holidays nearly upon us, it is the school's duty to lift our spirits and strengthen the ties within our community. As you know, the Wizarding World has endured much. In these challenging times, a morale boost is not only welcome—it is necessary."

Murmurs of curiosity rippled through the hall as McGonagall continued. "Therefore, this Friday evening, on the last night before Christmas break, Hogwarts will host a ball in the Great Hall."

Gasps and excited whispers broke out immediately, the students exchanging eager looks. Harry glanced down at the Slytherin table, where Draco was sitting with his usual aloof expression, but his eyes held a faint spark of curiosity. For a brief moment, their gazes met across the room, and Harry quickly looked away, a flicker of warmth settling in his chest despite the awkwardness that had hung over them lately.

McGonagall's voice rose above the excitement. "The purpose of this event," she said, her tone steady and direct, "is to unite us in good spirits. I expect everyone to dress appropriately and take part in the festivities. In preparation, I will be hosting daily dance lessons here in the Great Hall. Attendance is mandatory for all students."

Harry's stomach lurched slightly. Dance lessons? He couldn't even look at Draco for more than a few seconds without feeling unsettled, and now he'd be expected to stand in close quarters with a partner. It was something he knew he couldn't avoid, but the thought of it—especially with Draco nearby—was... strange.

The headmistress seemed to sense the students' mix of enthusiasm and hesitation. "You may feel free to partner with whomever you choose," she continued, "though I encourage you to dance with different partners over the next few days. Learning to dance is as much about cooperation as it is skill."

She gave a curt nod, signaling the end of the announcement. As students erupted into animated chatter, Harry caught a glimpse of Draco's profile again—thoughtful, maybe even a bit anxious.

Just then, Hermione leaned in beside him, excitement gleaming in her eyes. "Isn't it wonderful, Harry? This could actually be fun—a chance to forget about the... other things, even just for a night."

The dark-haired managed a weak smile, but his mind was still on the Slytherin, on the strange tug he felt toward him.

Across the hall, Draco was talking with Pansy and Blaise, both of whom looked much more animated than he did. He looked half-amused, half-distracted as they nudged him, clearly trying to spark some enthusiasm about the ball. But Harry could sense something in the blond's eyes—a flicker of unease he doubted anyone else would notice. It was strange how easily he could read the other boy now, as if he had some sort of invisible window into his thoughts. Maybe it was just the connection, the curse reminding him that they were bound together in some inexplicable way.