A/N: Happy Thursday everyone! Going to keep this short and sweet so you can get to reading! Chapter 15 will be coming next week because it's just about ready to go! Prepare yourselves, it's twice the length of my other chapters because there's some good stuff in it ;) (so pls hold off on the pitchforks!)
Alphabet love to WordsmithMusings!
Chapter Fourteen:
The book snapped shut in her hands with a dull thud.
Hermione had read it front to back three times since they'd arrived home from Diagon. She had to be absolutely sure the words on its pages were correct. It was there in black and white. Their salvation.
"Well?" Harry asked. He had stayed while Hermione read, anxious as the rest of them to learn more. Currently, they all huddled around a tea spread in the kitchen, waiting. "What did you find out?"
Hermione grazed the edge of the book with her finger. Too much, she had learned too much. This book was written by a Master of ritual magic, of life debts and soul bonds. She leafed to her marked place, the passage that detailed something that could help them. A weight settled in Hermione's chest, an odd mix of dread and excitement.
She stayed silent as she handed the book to Draco beside her, who took it gently and began to read. The further he got, the more Hermione's stomach swooped. A thousand wings beat inside her chest. The passage Draco read told them how to break it, how to stop the bond.
It was love.
Instead of a physical bond, a debt owed to Death, a soul-binding would form a new contract but to each other. It would overrule the life debt, breaking it instantly.
Unfortunately, binding souls was extremely dangerous, an insane high level of magic. But it was strong, the strongest kind. Hermione knew it would work, but still, she hesitated. It wasn't because of all the expensive crystals needed or the complicated spell they would have to perform.
No—Hermione hesitated because they would need to have sex.
Draco's face turned hard once he finished, and he shoved the book into Harry's hands. Harry gave him a questioning glance, but Draco refused to look at anything but the table.
Sirius and Harry read together, both their faces turning pale as twin shocked expressions pulled their faces. Hermione's entire body trembled, and a leaden ball settled in the pit of her stomach as the silence stretched. Draco still refused to look up.
"Okay," Sirius muttered, his voice breaking the silence. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket with slightly shaking hands and lit it, taking a drag before continuing. "So—"
"We have to bind our souls together," Draco interrupted, his deep voice rough but soft. He was trying to hold back his true feelings. The skin across his knuckles tightened as he wrung his hands together. He was angry. "We have to fuck and bind our fucking souls."
Hermione flinched at his harsh tone and words. It was understandable that he was upset, but that still didn't stop the pang of hurt that radiated through Hermione's chest.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked, glancing around at everyone.
Hermione picked at her fingernails and answered. "I don't really know. There isn't a lot of information on these types of bonds. More than likely, we'll always have a connection. And the book suggests that... When we die, we'll live in the afterlife together. The rest of our eternities could be spent together."
There was a collective rise in tension. It was a monumental thing to ask, an even more arduous thing to do. One had to be absolutely certain of who they were binding themselves to.
"It may not be our only option," Hermione said. "A lot of it was just hypotheses and conjecture. I'll read it again; maybe there's something—"
"You've read it three times, Granger. It's been nearly two weeks, and this book is the only thing even remotely close to an option."
Hermione chewed her bottom lip as she and Draco stared at each other. His grey eyes were hardened, his mouth pressed to a thin line.
"There could be more," She swallowed the lump in her throat. "We could look in the Malfoy library; you never did get those books."
Draco crossed his arms and settled back into his chair, where they sat at the kitchen table. His tea had gone cold long ago. "I already know what they contain, and they won't have anything useful besides magic too dark even Voldemort wouldn't dare use it."
The air in the room shifted at his words; the memory of the Dark Lord would forever be a fresh wound.
Sirius snuffed his cigarette and waved his hand to filter the smoke from the room. "We have three choices."
"Three?" Harry asked. "There's staying connected or doing this ritual. What's the third?"
Sirius held Hermione with a pointed look, but Hermione gave it right back. The third thing was not an option, and there would absolutely be no way in hell they would do it.
"Killing me," Sirius stated simply. "I die, and the bond breaks."
Harry sucked in a sharp breath, "Sirius, you can't—"
"He won't," Hermione interrupted, glaring at Sirius for upsetting Harry. "We won't. We have two options, and that's all. I thought we already discussed this, Sirius."
Sirius shrugged and sat back, finishing off another cup of tea. "I was dead before, right? Everything would just go back to how it was—"
The scrape of the chair rang in Hermione's ears as Harry abruptly stood. It clattered to the ground with a sharp bang against the stones. He glared at Sirius with misty spectacled eyes, face red and fists clenched.
"Harry—" Hermione started but sucked in a sharp breath as Harry's glare moved to her then back to Sirius.
"You can't possibly think it would go back to normal if you left again!" Harry stated, voice high. "This whole ordeal has changed everything."
A beat of silence stretched between them all as Sirius swallowed.
"We don't have to decide now," Draco said, slowly glancing at each face. "Let's take some time to think."
Hermione checked the clock hanging from the nearby wall. "It's nearly time for dinner, Harry. Let's go over early, alright?"
She was trying to placate his anger; let him settle down. Hermione knew this was hard for Harry. Sirius was the closest thing to a parent he ever had.
Harry silently nodded and picked up his chair, stalking to the sitting room without a sound. Hermione gave Sirius a worried look, but he only shook his head in response. Now wasn't the time to discuss it. Draco flicked his wand at the teapot and cups to float to the sink and begin washing themselves. Together, the trio stood and met Harry in the next room, the Floo already open and waiting.
Harry stepped in once they came into the room and called out his address. Once the green flames engulfed him, Draco looked down at Hermione.
"If Weasley says anything, I won't keep my mouth shut."
Hermione chewed her lip. "Will you let me handle Ron? I don't want this to turn into something big. Please."
Draco regarded her, his grey eyes flicking back and forth between hers. After a moment, he gave a reluctant sigh. "Fine, but if he insults either of my parents, I will jinx him."
Hermione bounced her leg in tight anticipation as they waited for Ron to arrive. They'd only been at Harry's for a short while, and he was sure to be there soon. A headache already began to form behind her eyes, and the wine in her glass did nothing to quell it.
Crookshanks gave a cranky, sharp meow from her lap at her movement. He hadn't left her side since she stepped through the Floo.
"Lucky for Crooks, the town is full of mice," Blaise said as he refilled her glass. "Think he scared a few of the neighbours, though, seeing this big orange cat running around."
Hermione smiled, "I'm sure Godric's Hollow could use the entertainment."
Blaise wholeheartedly agreed, and Harry threw him a half-hearted glare. It wasn't where Blaise had thought he'd end up, and he voiced that fact repeatedly, but Potter Cottage was the reason he and Harry met in the first place.
Harry took Potter Cottage back from the Ministry after the war but had no clue how to renovate or decorate it. Surprisingly enough, it was Luna that volunteered Blaise for the job. He and Harry began working together and well—the rest was history. Sirius had gone misty-eyed when they walked in, looking around fondly. He had visited once after his escape from Azkaban, but it had still been a cursed, dilapidated house back then. Now it looked as it once did, warm and welcoming, and no doubt memories of James and Lily filled his thoughts.
Crookshanks meowed happily and jumped from Hermione's lap, winding through Sirius' legs and then Blaise's.
The sound of a loud knock, followed by a creaking door and stomping feet sucked the merriment from Hermione, replacing it with unease. Her eyelid twitched and something twisted in her stomach. Ron was here.
Harry met her gaze and gave her what she was sure was meant to be a reassuring nod, except it did nothing to quell her nerves.
"Hello?" Ron's voice called, the footsteps approaching. Two sets. Oh, for fuck's sake...
"Lavender came this time! She—oh." Ron stopped short as he entered the kitchen and saw them. Lavender peeked around from his back and gave a sharp gasp.
"Oh Ronnie, I didn't think you were serious," Lavender said, placing a hand on her stomach and staring at them like they were a circus act. The scars Fenrir gave her were now on display; she must not care about the glamour when it's just amongst friends. "Hermione, you poor thing."
She knew Lavender meant well. She knew, of course, Ron would tell her everything. But still, to have the woman's pity irritated Hermione to her core.
"Why are they here?" Ron asked Harry, gesturing to them with the bottle of wine he had brought. Hermione wanted to explode. Crookshanks growled at her feet; he never did like Ron.
"We're here because you should have something to say to us," Hermione answered and crossed her arms.
Lavender looked up at Ron and tilted her head. "Ron, what happened?"
"Nothing happened!" Ron said quickly, stepping back a bit from his wife. "Just—" He glanced at Harry, then Hermione, both of them glaring. "I was just saying to Harry I felt a bit bad about how I handled things yesterday, alright?"
Lavender placed her hands on her hips and leant forward, her stance wide. Even though she was a foot shorter than Ron, her demeanour was menacing as she glared up at him. "Ronald Billius Weasley! Were you being mean to Hermione?!"
"No, love!" Ron placated. "Of course not—"
"That's not what I would say, wouldn't you agree, Sirius?" Draco interrupted.
"Not at all what I would say, Draco," Sirius agreed, leaning back and placing an arm around Hermione.
It was comical to watch the way Ron cowered before Lavender. Hermione had to stifle a laugh at how angry she was at him. It was quite a difference from the Lavender she knew from school, and it was honestly refreshing to see someone else yell at Ron the way she used to.
"Apologise," Lavender demanded through gritted teeth. Her voice came out with a slight growl, and Sirius stiffened at the tone. Merlin—Hermione was happy she wasn't on the receiving end of such a look; Ron looked downright ready to pass out.
Ron shuffled his feet and turned to them, his gaze burning into the floor. "I'm sorry, everyone. Especially you, Hermione. I will... try to do better," The last few words sounded painful to say, but Hermione was satisfied. She didn't want tension between everyone, and if Ron were willing to try, so would she.
"There, see now!" Lavender sighed, her demeanour completely changed and back to her usual happy-go-lucky tone. She linked her arm through Ron's and pulled him close. "Ronniebear will be nice, I promise."
Surprisingly, Hermione wasn't annoyed by the nicknames Lavender used for Ron. In fact, she felt nothing but gratification and delight for the couple before her.
"Thank you," Hermione said to Ron. "I accept your apology."
Blaise stood and clapped his hands, "Great, now that that's out of the way, let's eat."
Dinner passed by without incident, and currently, they all sat around the large circular table chatting happily. Harry, Ron, and Draco were in a heated debate about Quidditch, and Lavender laughed merrily, engrossed in the conversation.
Hermione watched them with a smile as she sipped her wine.
"How are you?" Sirius leant over and muttered. "Truly."
Hermione shrugged, "A bit odd if I'm being honest. I feel like I should be mad, but I'm not. Ron and I have always had these explosive arguments, but he was different earlier. Lavender makes him better, more mature. It should annoy me, but instead, I'm fascinated."
"Most men mature once they get married," Sirius grinned. "But some never do at all."
Hermione laughed, breaking the Quidditch talk. Everyone looked to see what was so funny, and to save Hermione from explaining, Sirius changed the conversation.
"So, where is Teddy?" Sirius called to Harry. "I wanted to meet him."
Harry shifted, "We just don't think now was a good time. Eight is a weird age for kids; he's having a lot of issues with accidental magic and a lot of questions about his parents—"
"Well, I would think I'd be the best person for him to meet then, don't you?" Sirius asked, voice rising. Hermione had never seen him angry at Harry before. It was justified, of course. Teddy was the last piece of Remus Sirius had.
But Hermione knew why Harry didn't want to just yet. Over the last two years, Teddy had become a bit explosive; his accidental magic was the worst case she'd ever seen, and it certainly didn't help that he inherited Tonk's Metamorphism. They had no idea how he would react to Sirius, or Draco, or the situation between them all.
"We haven't even told him you're alive yet," Harry huffed, crossing his arms.
Sirius pulled out a cigarette and lit it, not even bothering to ask if he could smoke in the house. "Well, where is he then? I thought you said Andy was too sick?"
"He's with Bill and Fleur; he and their daughter Victorie are close," Blaise admitted.
"We just—" Harry leant forward to try and catch Sirius' gaze, but Sirius kept his eyes glued to the table. "We don't know how he'll react. He knows you, of course. We've told him everything, and we have pictures, but... it could be a lot for him to process."
Sirius picked at the table, his brows furrowed. Cigarette smoke surrounded him in a light fog. It seemed like there was something more he wanted to say—he opened and shut his mouth multiple times—but Sirius kept quiet and puffed on his cigarette instead.
Hermione snaked her fingers atop his knee and squeezed. Sirius placed his hand over hers, their fingers twining together. A jolt spiked through Hermione at the rough feel of his hands, the warmth of his skin.
"I never thought you'd be so maternal, Potter," Draco said, breaking the tense silence in the room with a smirk.
Harry glared, "Teddy once got so upset in Diagon Alley that he exploded all the windows of the surrounding buildings. He broke fifty-two windows because he dropped a piece of candy."
Draco held his hands up in surrender, "Point made. I thought Blaise said you were taking him to specialists. Have they not helped?"
"Not really," Harry rubbed his face and sighed. He looked dead-tired. "They were older and just... didn't understand Teddy's energy or his history."
Draco thought for a moment, his fingers drumming on the table. Sitting forward, he pulled a small container from his pocket, no larger than a wallet; inside it was an organised accordion of business cards. Draco thumbed through them until he found the one he wanted, pulling it out with a triumphant grin.
"Thought I had one. Here—" Draco slid the card over to Blaise, who took it and examined it with Harry. "Madame Dubois is excellent, younger, and an old friend. She'll help."
Blaise's eyebrows suddenly shot up in surprise at the name. "Wait. Pansy Dubois? Pansy? As in our Pansy?"
Draco grinned, "The one and only. She studied in St Mungo's after school and then met some rich French healer. He works for some hospital in France now, and Pansy specialises in treating children."
"I always wondered where she ran off to," Blaise shook his head and smiled at the card.
"I'm not supposed to share her whereabouts, but I know she'd want to help."
"Thank you, Draco," Harry muttered, placing the card in his pocket. "We'll owl her."
Draco shrugged and sat back in his chair. He made it seem like some nonchalant thing, but Hermione knew not that long ago, Draco would have never helped Harry like this.
Beneath the table, Hermione placed her fingers on his knee and smiled. Draco wrapped his arm around the back of his chair and leant into her with a smirk. Sirius' thumb trailed across the inside of her wrist on the opposite side; heat surrounded her, warming her skin. The wine seemed to have gone to her head as it swam.
"Is this... between you all..." Ron started, chilling Hermione instantly. "You're going to break it, right?" Lavender turned to glare at Ron, and he held up his hands in surrender. "I was just wondering! I'm their assigned Auror now—sorry about that, by the way, Harry. I'll still keep you informed."
Harry shrugged, glancing at Hermione with the memory of their secrets. Ron didn't notice—he never did.
"Yes, we're going to break it," Hermione replied. "We have a possible option that we're still considering."
She tried to keep the knowledge of how to break it at bay, but the only thing that filled her mind was the scent of Draco and the touch of Sirius' hand. We have to fuck. Draco's voice from earlier echoed in her head, and desire pooled between her legs. Hoping it would quell some of the tension she felt, Hermione pulled her hands from both men, leaning forward to take a heavy sip of wine.
Ron gave her a look of disbelief. "Considering? If it's an option, why not take it?"
"It's a soulbond." Hermione quickly stated before anyone else could chime in with more information than Ron needed to know.
"Oh." The reply was simple; for once, Ron understood. He sat back in his chair and stayed silent as he furrowed his brows together.
"Thinking looks painful for you," Draco sneered, pulling his arm from around the back of Hermione's chair to cross them. Hermione sighed; he'd been doing so well, but of course, they couldn't make it one night without an insult.
Ron glared at Draco, "I want to help. I know I'm not the only one who wants to see this over with."
He wasn't lying; everyone in the room wanted it to be done. But the fact that it was Ron saying these words only irritated them. Hermione sighed again. Oh well. At least they managed to be cordial for dinner.
Hermione pushed back on her chair and slid out from the table. "Well. Thank you, Blaise, for the delicious food, but I think it's time we head back. We have a lot to do."
She had to admit she felt a bit better now, having talked to Ron. And she had Lavender to thank for that. How surprising.
They walked to the back sitting room, and Harry activated the Floo.
"I'm sorry again, Sirius," Harry said. He looked like a scolded child. "I didn't mean to upset you, but we need to think about Teddy."
Sirius gave a short nod and grinned. Hermione knew it was forced. "I hope you know I plan to spoil that boy rotten."
Everyone laughed, but Hermione could tell through the joke that Sirius was still upset about it. But it wasn't fair to Harry to put this on him; it wasn't his fault.
They said goodnight, and to everyone's surprise, Lavender pulled Hermione into a hug, the bonds glowing brightly as Hermione cautiously returned it.
"Good luck, Hermione," Lavender said. "When you're free, let's get lunch."
She could still feel the ghost of the hug as the green flames consumed them and spit them out into Grimmauld. Now that they were alone, awkwardness settled around them. No one knew what to say or how to broach the subject.
But perhaps it could wait for the night. Right now, they needed to focus on Narcissa and brew her potion. Two of the ingredients needed to be prepared, and it would take them all night to do it. Her worries about having sex with Sirius and Draco could wait.
"I hope you're not too tired," Hermione said as she led them to the kitchen and collected their purchased ingredients. She picked up a jar of dragon's blood and summoned the cauldron from storage. Her head buzzed a bit from the wine, but she would manage.
"Not at all, Granger," Draco replied, rolling up his sleeves as Sirius did the same. "Let's get to work.