The Noctis Codex | DRARRY

THIRTY-EIGHT

A week passed in a cold, empty haze. Draco kept his distance, showing up to classes with an unbothered, indifferent expression, barely acknowledging anyone who tried to speak with him. The curse marks, though now hidden beneath glamours, still pulsed painfully beneath his skin, reminding him of Harry's absence. At night, he'd lie awake, thoughts slipping back to the way it felt to be near the other, how his warmth seemed to ease the burn of the marks, how his voice seemed to steady Draco in ways he hadn't realized he needed.

Harry, meanwhile, could feel the weight of Draco's absence like a leaden cloak around his shoulders. In classes, he would glance toward the blond's usual spot only to find him avoiding eye contact, his gaze fixed firmly ahead. The tension between them had become palpable, and the marks seemed to burn hotter each time they crossed paths without a word. He couldn't understand it—one moment, Draco had been there, warm and close, like a steadying anchor in the storm that had become their lives. And now he was gone.

Hermione and Ron noticed the shift, concern etched on their faces each time Harry came to the common room looking more worn than before. They tried to reach him, suggesting ideas, offering support, but Harry brushed them off, his mind circling around questions he couldn't even begin to answer.

One evening, Hermione cornered Harry in the library, her gaze sharp with worry. "This isn't helping, Harry. Ignoring him, pushing away—whatever you're both doing. The curse is only getting worse." She pointed to the faint outline of the marks crawling over his jaw, marks he'd been trying to hide.

Harry shook his head, frustration tightening his voice. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. He just...left. Like none of it mattered. I don't understand him, Hermione."

"Maybe it's time you tried. Whatever he's going through...he probably thinks he's doing it for a reason." She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "It's obvious he's hurting, Harry. Just like you are."

The Gryffindor's resolve wavered, the ache in his chest growing heavier. He knew the girl was right. Maybe Draco was trying to protect them both, pushing him away for reasons only he understood. But that didn't make the distance any easier. It didn't stop him from needing answers, from needing Draco.

And that night, as Harry lay in bed, the curse marks felt almost alive, simmering beneath his skin with a steady, persistent burn.

He longed, desired for Draco's cold touch, his voice, even his stupid sarcasm. Those were the only things he cared about before slowly drifting off to sleep.
—

In the stillness of the night, Harry's dream twisted from familiar comfort into raw horror. As he drifted into the dreamscape, he found himself next to Draco, who lay peacefully on his back, eyes closed, his face free of the tension that usually shadowed it. The blond looked so calm, his face softened by a quiet serenity Harry rarely saw. He hesitated, reaching out, wanting to brush away a few strands that had fallen across the other's forehead. But before his fingers could graze his skin, Draco's eyes opened, and in a sudden movement, he rolled away, putting distance between them.

The sting of that instant rejection pulsed in Harry's chest. He took a breath, steadying himself. "This can't go on like this. You can't keep ignoring me, pushing me away, running every time we're close." His voice wavered, edged with a desperation he hadn't meant to show.

Draco didn't respond. Instead, he rose, dusting his clothes as though he hadn't heard a word. He crossed his arms, his face closed off, his silence building an invisible wall between them. The Gryffindor felt his frustration mount, his heart aching at how unreachable Draco seemed, standing mere feet away yet feeling miles apart.

"Why won't you talk to me? This is childish, Draco! It's unfair, and you know it. Ignoring each other—ignoring me—it won't get us anywhere. I'm tired of feeling alone." He paused, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to keep his voice from breaking. "I've gotten so used to you, to us, and now... now it's like I'm in withdrawal."