Chapter 4: Bond

This chapter is for Sara, a.k.a. Patris Vox. Thank you for everything! :p

By the way, the reason those in potions are taught about the spell is the same as the reason those in healing do-they are taught of it so that, should anyone fall victim to it, they would be able to brew possible cures, just as Medi-Witches and Wizards would combat it with different types of magic. Thanks for asking, though!

If any of you have questions, email me, and I'll be sure to answer them for you!

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"Are you ready for this, Hermione? I mean, are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she replied, firmly, grasping her second's hand. "But ready? I'm not sure I'll ever be ready."

Harry frowned, squeezing his friends' hand for support. It wasn't right, he frowned, it just wasn't right! Hermione had a life of her own to lead, she didn't deserve this. In all his life, he'd never met anyone as worthy of love as Hermione Granger-she deserved a good life of her own making; she deserved to fall in love, have children, follow her dreams, live her life. Not to be bogged down by Draco Malfoy.

It wasn't, Harry thought, that he begrudged of Malfoy in particular, really. After all, he didn't hate the Slytherin; disliked him, certainly, but hate. . . no, he didn't hate him. That did not, however, mean that he had to like the idea of his best friend being forced to share her life with him. No one, no matter who they were, deserved to be bonded to someone they did not love.

"You don't have to do this," he said slowly.

Hermione turned to him, her eyes sad but stubbornly set. "If it were you Harry, could you let him die?" she abolished him, but lightly. She knew, even if he did not, that he wouldn't-couldn't. He had no answer to that.

They walked a while in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They stopped as one when they reached the door, Harry's brow set in anger, hers in resignation.

//This is it,// Hermione thought. //I'll never be happy again.//

Dumbledore was already inside the room when they entered, acting as second to the still unconscious Malfoy. In the rooms center, a large space had been cleared, and a circle, painted on the ground, of crushed white unicorn bone lay waiting. It would, Dumbledore had warned them, glow bright gold once they were inside, and the ceremony had begun.

The Headmaster nodded at the Gryffindors as they entered, his face almost unnaturally somber. "Ready?" he asked quietly, a pensive frown stretching across his features.

Harry and Hermione said nothing.

Dumbledore seemed to know that this was the only response that he would get, and heaved a quite sigh. "All right, let us begin."

They stood within the now-glowing circle, Malfoy been placed into a trance like state so he could perform his part in the ceremony. It reminded Harry a bit of sleepwalking, and had the circumstances been different, he might even have laughed at the image. As it was. . .

Hermione stood to one side with Harry, while the Headmaster and his patient stood on the other.

"Raise your wands," Dumbledore ordered as he himself did. The other three complied. "Hermione, you and Draco will recite the spell,"

"Espiritus carpe

Et exultavit spiritus meus

In Deo salutari

Il mondo gira con me

Que-stanote piccoli

Pasi che faccio conte

Seguoil tuo cuere

E se-guo la Luna. . ."

But something was wrong. Malfoy, who was, after a ver vital piece of this equation, had stopped saying the words to the spell.

For a moment, a thin stream of light had jumped from Hermione's wand (not being, mind you, but her wand) and merged with Draco's. But the green light was sickly and flickered out almost immediately upon its conception.

Hermione's gaze snapped quickly to Dumbledore. Worry flickered across her face-they couldn't afford for this to go wrong. . .But the Headmaster was staring beyond her. At Harry.

She whipped around again, facing the spot where Harry had stood just moments earlier. He hadn't move far, only a foot or two, but he did not appear to have done so consciously. He looked as though, like Malfoy, he was in a trance, and he was sidling closer and closer to the other boy. The blonde, Hermione noted, was doing the same, left arm outstretched; hand, palm up.

Soon the two boys had reached the very center of the circle, and a blaze of light seemed to erupt between them, so bright, Hermione and Dumbledore were for a moment blinded by its brilliance.

When they were able to see again, the boys were staring at each other intently, communicating, if it was possible, without words at all. Harry's right hand was enclosed in Draco's left. They were reciting the spell, softly at first, but with purpose and in clear tones. The volume of their incantation began to grow, and Hermione thought, amazed, that the light seemed to pouring out from their very souls.

//White light? Red, but only at the edges. . . // the abstract thought flittered about her head as she watched. //What did Dumbledore say about white light?// But he hadn't, she recalled, found that particular light color prevalent. What had he said? Something about it not being a concern with her and Malfoy. . .

Only, it wasn't her and Malfoy, it seemed. But Harry and Malfoy? What could that mean? What was the white light a symbol of? What was Harry going to do when he realized what had happened? What-?

Her half-intelligent musings were suddenly ended by the sound of the boy's last words. "Dragon et Gryphon, une reve d'amour! Enspiritus Requiem, et pus, Enspiritus Aurora!"

In a final eclipse of white, the boys collapsed into each other's arms, fingers still intertwined.

. . . TBC. . .

Okay, there it is! Um, yes, you will learn of the meaning of white next chapter, I promise! Yay! Thank you to all of you wonderful people who reviewed. I love you all-keep reviewing, even if it is only to berate me, I'm cool with that :), and I'll update as soon as I can!

XOXOXOXO

~NayNymic