The news of the failed potion spread through the castle like a spilled vial of ink—fast, messy, and impossible to clean up.
Whispers trailed after Harry and Draco through every corridor, though neither spoke of what had happened. Not to each other. Not to anyone.
Snape had said nothing since class, but the look in his eyes had been enough to freeze steam in the air. And still, he hadn't punished them. Not formally. That silence was worse.
Harry kept his head down in the corridors, but he felt the stares, the questions.
"Why didn't it work?"
"Was it Potter's fault?"
"Maybe Malfoy sabotaged it…"
Every theory found a listener. And every theory made the weight in Harry's chest sink deeper.
---
Slytherin Common Room – That Evening
Draco sat rigid on the emerald settee, arms crossed. Pansy whispered something to Daphne, who giggled behind her palm. Blaise shot him a look that held more curiosity than accusation—but it still burned.
He couldn't shake the moment—the potion evaporating into nothing. Snape's sharp breath. Harry's face just inches away, both of them holding the same unspoken thought:
This wasn't a mistake. Someone did this.
Draco looked down at his notes from that day, sprawled across his lap. Every step had been correct. Every stir precise. The temperature held steady. He and Harry had worked in eerie silence, but their movements had synced.
And still—it had vanished.
He closed the notebook, jaw tightening.
If someone had sabotaged the draft…
…they hadn't been aiming at just him.
---
Gryffindor Tower – Midnight
The dormitory was quiet save for the occasional creak of old beams and the gentle snore of Neville from the corner.
Harry couldn't sleep.
His thoughts whirled, looping around the same images. The shimmer of potion steam. Snape's narrowed eyes. Draco's unguarded confusion—so genuine it couldn't have been faked.
He pulled on his cloak and crept from the room.
Minutes later, he found himself outside Snape's office.
He stood there, uncertain.
Before he could knock, the door opened.
Snape stood there, not surprised. "Come in."
Harry stepped inside, throat dry.
"I need to know," he said. "About the potion."
Snape sat behind his desk, fingers steepled. "You think it was sabotage."
Harry nodded. "We followed everything perfectly. It just—vanished."
Snape studied him. "And you think Mr. Malfoy was not involved."
"I know he wasn't," Harry said, before thinking.
Snape's eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in assessment. "I see."
There was a long pause.
"I am looking into it," Snape finally said. "But if someone is interfering… they are doing so with care. And purpose."
"Purpose?"
Snape leaned forward slightly. "You've been targeted before, Potter. You may be again."
Harry's blood ran cold.
"I thought this year would be different."
Snape looked at him, and for once, his voice softened. "It never is."
---
Elsewhere – A Corridor in the Dungeons
Draco wandered alone.
He didn't know where he was going—only that he couldn't stay still. Not with the tension creeping beneath his skin like a second layer.
He turned a corner and stopped.
Harry stood there.
They both froze.
"You're out late," Draco muttered.
"So are you."
The silence between them pressed close. Draco looked away first.
"I don't think it was you," Harry said quietly.
Draco's breath hitched. "I know it wasn't you either."
Their eyes met—really met—for the first time since the incident.
For a moment, they weren't Gryffindor and Slytherin. Just two boys standing in the dark, both hunted by shadows they couldn't see.
"Someone's trying to get between us," Draco said.
Harry's heart jumped. Us?
He didn't correct him.
"Then we don't let them," he said.
Draco nodded.
Neither of them noticed the soft click of a closing door nearby.