It started as a tingling.
Just under the skin of his wand hand — a strange heat, not painful, but pulsing, rhythmic, alive.
Harry had felt spell residue before — leftover static from charms, that faint buzz after a strong hex. But this… this was different.
It didn't fade.
It grew.
By breakfast, his hand ached. He rubbed it under the table, hiding the slight tremor from Theodore and Draco.
"You look like hell," Draco muttered.
"Didn't sleep."
Theodore sipped his tea. "Was it the voice again?"
Harry didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
In the Lavatory – The First Sign
He ducked into the first-floor bathroom between classes. The same one with the cracked mirror and hissing pipes.
He turned on the tap, ran cold water over his hand.
And then he saw it.
A symbol.
Burned into his palm — not bleeding, but glowing, like fresh ink tattooed beneath skin. A circle made of serpent runes, spiraling inward toward a single glyph that shimmered green when the water hit it.
He yanked his hand back.
The glow dimmed — but didn't vanish.
It was real.
Branded.
Defense Against the Dark Arts – A Spell Misfires
He didn't want to cast it.
But Lockhart, ever clueless, called on him for a simple disarming charm. Just theory. Just form.
"Mr. Potter! Show us how it's done."
Harry lifted his wand. Pointed at the dueling dummy.
"Expelliarmus."
The spell leapt from his wand — but not in red.
It was green.
It exploded from his hand, slamming into the dummy with a force that shattered the mannequin's arm and split the floor beneath it.
Gasps.
Silence.
Theodore stared.
Even Lockhart flinched.
"…Well," Lockhart said weakly, "That's… certainly a version of disarming…"
The Aftermath – Snape Intervenes
That evening, a note was left on Harry's pillow.
"Midnight. Room 247. Do not be late. —S"
No signature needed.
Snape's Office – Beneath the Surface
Room 247 wasn't a classroom.
It was a stone chamber beneath the Potions wing — dark, cold, bare except for a single high-backed chair and a stone basin filled with thick, silver liquid.
A Pensieve.
Snape stood beside it.
"Show me your hand."
Harry hesitated.
"Now."
He opened his palm.
Snape's expression didn't change.
But his voice dropped.
"You shouldn't have entered the chamber."
"I didn't mean—"
"You spoke its language. You let it open to you. That is meaning enough."
Harry stepped forward. "What is this symbol?"
Snape didn't look at him. He stared into the basin.
"It is the mark of the Unbound Line. Those who the chamber does not reject. Who do not kneel. Who take what isn't given."
He looked up.
"You were marked. And now your magic will no longer follow rules."
A pause.
"And neither will the consequences."
Final Scene – The Library at Night
Later, Harry flipped through every spellbook he could sneak from the Restricted Section.
None mentioned the mark.
None described the glyph.
But every now and then, he'd feel it burn, just for a second.
And in those moments… the whisper returned.
"Power is not given. It is remembered. And you, boy… are being remembered well.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
TRAILER – Chapter 11: "House of Fire"
Narrator voice, low and sharp:
"Magic marks those who take. But it punishes those who use it... without permission."
Hogwarts courtyard. Late afternoon.A crowd gathers for a Slytherin practice duel. Wands are raised. Tension is light. Until Harry's wand sparks green.
The magic erupts.
Not controlled. Not taught. Not safe.
A spell misfires. A student falls. Shock spreads like wildfire. The dueling ring turns to silence.
Whispers cut through the crowd.
"That wasn't just a spell.""He didn't say anything. It just happened.""That's not school magic."
Inside the castle, Snape stares from the shadows. His face unreadable.
Later, in the headmaster's office:
A Ministry voice speaks from behind heavy glass.
"Unregulated casting. Unstable glyph activation. We cannot afford risks."
Harry stands alone. His palm still burns.
"They think I'm dangerous," he says. "Maybe they're right."