september 11th 1998
6 pm

Thursday and Friday went flying past Hermione. After Pansy had assigned her for three months of detention, she had sleepwalked all of her lessons during both of the days and not even Hannah's constant nudging was of help. The Gryffindor sweetheart had been in a heavy state of trance all of the remaining school week. She had been trying to rationalize the choices that had lead to gambling her life away. Hermione was ashamed and regretful. After all of the fighting her friends had done for the Order, to win the War and here she was — throwing her life away when she should be enjoying and making the most of it. All of the losses and Hermione was arrogantly trying to get herself be counted among them. It was wrong. Summoning the leftover courage and determination her house was known by, Hermione decided that she should be fighting. She should at least put up a fight. But now, on the other side, working against her were not the Death Eaters. No, it was Hermione herself. The last battle she had to win was against her mind that carried the emotions as its sword. She was in debt to herself as well as to Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, Snape and her parents, to gather what was left of her and step on to the battlefield.

Her will to do so was large, but the strength that was necessitated for it could be measured in a pinch.

Hermione was in the library, sitting alone at her favourite spot against the window that cast the precise amount of sunlight during the mornings at weekend and just the right glint of moonlight when she was up late doing her homework. She was working on an essay for the Potions class, it was halfway done when a boy approached her table, sliding an additional chair towards it. The silent and attentive figure who had sat next to Hermione belonged to Theodore Nott. He had been very considerate towards the Golden Girl — Theo was always there when they were sharing a class, sitting beside her, sliding her additional notes when he noticed that she was out of it and missing important information. He knew that once she snapped out of her misery, Hermione would go unhinged about allowing herself to ever boot any crucial detail. Theo had been there for her. She wondered why. But she did not need to ask. And while they mostly sat in silence, his presence put the girl at the utmost comfort. She needed it and he seemed to acknowledge the fact. She was grateful for it and he knew it without her confession. There were minimal sentences passed between them and that was just enough. Her and Theo's friendship was the easiest she has ever had. They both knew that mutual support like that was needed and the two had found it in each other. While Theo was at a much better place mentally than Hermione, it was what helped the most. Theo's intellect and the way he spoke his thoughts put Hermione's mind at ease. She knew that if he had changed from a horrible bully and a Death Eater to the magnificent man he was now, Hermione could find the path of light too.

"Never give up. Never surrender," was something Theo would remind her at least once during the day. He had almost become her personal life coach.

Hermione was lost in thought, trying to come up with the best sentence to continue her essay. Her eyes wandered over the library's bookshelves and the students who were either chatting or deep in work just like the Gryffindor and her dark-haired Slytherin companion. Then Hermione's gaze fell on a tall and slender figure, walking confidently through the library's entrance. His black robes flailed as his long strides created a whoosh of air. He was carrying a worn-out blue book, its spine tightly captured in his digits. The long pale fingers were decorated with just the right amount of silver rings. One of them reflected an emerald green and Hermione instantly recognized the wearer as Draco Malfoy.

He stopped before Madam Pince's desk, passing a few words to her. Draco slowly nodded at something the librarian had said to him and continued with a fast pace towards the restricted section. Hermione could not see him anymore from her position, but it was not long before he returned to her sight and as quickly as he had entered the paradise of book, Draco left. A wave of wind from his departure met her untamed curls and a faint scent of his pine forest and glacier water cologne invaded her nerve endings. Hermione seemed to draw him in more naturally than she drew her breath.

The pale-haired boy had been in a hurry to return whatever he had borrowed from the library and return to his agenda. Naturally, Hermione had to find out what he had read, as she did not recognize the covers as something that she had ever used as a material for one of their courses.

She quickly stood up, blood rushing to her head. Hermione lost her balance for a moment, but Theo was there to help and hold her soothingly by her elbow. She thanked him with a reassuring smile and made her way towards the restricted area of Hogwart's library. Scanning the bookshelves, Hermione quickly spotted the book Draco had placed back in its previous position. Hermione knew almost all of the large library's content of texts by heart but she had never ever seen this particular book. The spot where it resided had always been vacant and dusty.

Picking up the shabby thick book, Hermione's eyes ran over the title "Ancient curses and myths 1558". She had read a lot of books, written materials and even encyclopedias regarding regular charms, curses and dark magic when she was researching for something that could explain her connection to Draco Malfoy, but never had she come across these pages enfolded in faded blue. Hermione opened the ancient book and there in between the cover and first page she found the sheet of its borrowers list. Dating from 1990-1999 the only name that had been signed on the white sheet was "DM".

1993: september 10th - october 11th DM
1993: april 2nd - may 5th DM
1994: december 14th - january 18th DM
1995: september 1st - november 1st DM
1995: november 1st - january 7th DM
1995: january 7th - march 7th DM
1995: march 7th - july 10th DM
1996: september 1st - november 1st DM

His signature is displayed four more times during 1996 in his neat and small handwriting, the last one, the 13th, being from the start of the term this year until today. Hermione's brain worked fast to place the first few dates to what had happened during Hogwart's at that time. She quickly realized that the three times he had first borrowed the book had been around all the instances she had accumulated his most intense wounds. But why then? It was not as if all those times he had been the one to get hurt out of nowhere. On the contrary, it mostly always had been Hermione who ended up in agony without the explanation of what was happening. Why would Draco need to study texts on curses if he did not even know Hermione was hurt?

There was really only one explanation that could support his interest in this book. He knew. He had known since their third year or even earlier, but had decided upon hiding this material of knowledge away from Hermione every time she could have been interested to raid restrictedsection for information about curses. And then starting with their fifth year when he seemingly had had a legitimate reason to privatize the book he had checked it out every two months until the end of the school year. So no one else could have laid their hands on it. So Hermione would not have had the chance to understand what was it that bonded them.

Without any further waiting, the confused and wide-eyed Gryffindor leafed the yellow pages, searching for what Draco was so meticulously hiding from her. Hermione gave up and cast the Apertum charm, hoping that the sly serpentine had not charmed the book with an anti-spell. To her relief, the ancient book flew open, revealing to Hermione the exact page which its last user had read. It was page 587 and the heading on top written in ink and Draco's clean handwriting read "The Soulmate curse".

"What!?" Hermione exclaimed. She read aloud to herself what followed under the Slytherin's penmanship.

"the consort beshrew"
a myth 'r a legend hath carried by dark charm originates from the late 15th century as an object of petrification f'r those who is't seek to embezzle the prosperity of pure-blood'd wizards and witches. T is bethought to has't emerg'd from the most prosperous and favoured wizarding family in england as a warning f'r those not coming from a line of crisp blood to keepeth hence. the beshrew presumably ensures yond an ancest'r of a sacr'd family line marries only someone who is't is suitable, meaning, a pure-blood.
a sir is did bind to a worthy mistress of choice once he hast becometh a full-fledg'd gentleman. once t is done, the sir sees nay other mistress as pleasing.
the information about t cometh from an outcast'd pure-blood lineage's ancest'r. hence everything known about this spell hast been vot'd hearsay and hath decided upon as lies f'r upkeeping the task of purity.

The dated book fell to Hermione's trembling ankles, thudding loudly at the hushed silence of the library. Was any of this true? It could not be. Practising such Dark Magic for centuries — cursing every male Wizard in the bloodline — must have consequences. Shorter life-span, deathly illnesses, for an instance. The author clearly has stated that this had always been regarded as only a myth created by pure-blood families to keep away any half-blood or muggle-born witches from pursuing their ancestors. But the source of this knowledge has also been given out by someone who had known what they are talking about. Someone who had first-hand experienced it being used. And therefore it did not make any sense for Hermione to be bounded to Draco Malfoy, as she was a muggle-born girl, who would only presumably wreck the Malfoy family's lineage. And who would do such a thing? Surely not Lucius Malfoy.

A conversation she had heard two days ago crept into her memory. Pansy was asking Draco whether he knew who he was "bound to". And it clicked in Hermione's mind. Parkinsons were also known to be a notorious pure-blood family, so the Slytherin princess surely has been cursed with a "soulmate" too. It could only mean one thing. The curse was real. But it did not explain Hermione's part in it and why this was the first occasion she has ever heard about it.

She picked up the book and cursed it for providing such a small amount of data about the spell. No mentions of counter-curses or anything further revealing as to how it is performed. Only when. But that information had holes in it too. Hermione had been certain to whatever connects her and Draco has been active ever since she could remember herself as a little girl reading a book in her backyard. Unexplainable bruises, cuts when all she did was keep at bay and divulge into literature her whole childhood. She had never climbed trees or kicked a football for fun. If Draco truly had only been cursed when he had reached his adolescence than any injuries they shared during their first years at Hogwarts held no explanation. Only if the spell had been placed upon both of them when he was of a younger age.

Hermione had to find him. Ask him. He undoubtedly knew more about this than the single page numbered 587 held. But as small amount of information, as the book had given for the Gryffindor, it had been enough for Draco to keep it from her for more than two years.

Leaving the library hurriedly, Hermione received furious whispers behind her back from Madam Pince about being ill-mannered. She rushed towards the Slytherin dungeons, hoping she would run into him or really anyone from his house. As she neared the misty air of the castle's lower level, she caught a glimpse of blonde hair marching in the opposite direction. Draco had just exited the Slytherin common room and was heading in the direction of the Entrance Hall. Dressed in a fitted black suit and dragon leather boots that echoed his footsteps against the hollow and vast hallways, Draco's build from behind looked as tantalizing as ever. Hermione was out of breath. Trying to keep up with his long strides was difficult as she also had to keep her own steps quiet enough so Draco would not hear her stalking him. Entering the vast and candle-lit hall, she ducked under one of the grand arches and waited to see where he was heading next. His earthy musk had enveloped the atmosphere. Hermione could stay there for a while.

Taking out his wand and casting a silent Alohomora, Draco Malfoy opened the large wooden entrance doors of Hogwarts and left the castle.

Why was he leaving the premises on a Friday evening? Where was he going? And for how long was he going to be away? The whole weekend? There were so many questions swarming in her mind, Hermione felt she would explode if not granted the chance to get a load of them out.

7 pm