A/N: Hello guys – it's been a minute. I'm hoping to get writing again tomorrow so hopefully one more chapter incoming. Enjoy!
Hermione glanced at Draco but didn't trust herself to speak. She wondered if he felt the same surge of electricity and static which seemed to vibrate in her bones, somehow lingering under her skin. Her magic felt alive, shifting and more him.
A flash of red hair appeared, running down the dingy corridor towards them.
"Hermione!" Ginny collided with Hermione, nearly knocking her to the floor.
Ron emerged behind her. "Blimey you gave us a scare." He joined the hug, kissing Hermione on the head.
"I missed you both so much." Hermione mumbled, burrowing into them both. "You're ok though?" She looked between them.
"Malfoy." Ron nodded. "I heard you were locked up too."
"Something like that." Draco heard himself answer.
"Come on, the others are in the dining room." Ginny grabbed Hermione's elbow, ushering her down the corridor.
Hermione turned back to Draco. "Are you coming?"
The question seemed to hang in the air.
Draco nodded, following Ron. They were the same height; the back of his neck was populated by a thousand freckles.
"Hermione! Oh, my goodness!" Mrs Weasley practically squeezed her, stepping back every now and again to take in her appearance, her frown deepening with every glance.
Other members of the Order rose to greet them from a large table, not dissimilar to the one at Malfoy manor that Draco would rather forget. Professor Lupin looked over Draco, tilting his head to the side.
"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Here." He appeared; a gash of blood theatrically splashed across his chest. "Thank god you're back."
"Sit." Remus' voice rang out.
"Remus, they need rest." Mrs Weasley interjected.
"No." Hermione insisted. "We should tell you now."
At the 'we' everyone suddenly realised Draco was still in the room.
"We were kept in a dungeon for a while." Hermione explained, carefully omitting the finer details of their conversation. "It can't have been more than one night, but then we were separated. Yaxley, Dolohov and Lucius were there – as was Lestrange."
Remus nodded, committing the details to memory. Harry bristled, rubbing his scar.
"You Know Who started the ritual at dawn. He used an alchemical spell and compelled Malfoy to absorb my magic."
"But it didn't work." Remus sat forward, interested.
"No, he -"
"Blocked it." Draco answered, flicking stray dust from his robes.
"Initially." Hermione chimed, "but then I could feel some of my magic slipping away-"
Draco glanced at her for a second, warning her from telling them everything.
"- and he gave me some of his in return."
"You exchanged magic." Remus concluded flatly.
A pop broke the silence and Professor Snape swept into the room. Draco tensed.
"Sorry I'm late." He spoke slowly, languidly.
"They exchanged magic in the ritual." Remus repeated.
"What exactly does that mean?" Harry joined the conversation.
"It means we're magically bound." She whispered.
"So, how do we fix it?" Harry pushed. "Anyone going to fill us in?"
"We each have a unique magical signature – mixing, or exchanging magic can create a joint signature, or a connection." Remus explained calmly. "We don't know how strong the connection is, but it might be sensible for you to work together until we do."
"You can't be serious?" Ron asked, flabbergasted.
Hermione fidgeted and Draco felt some of his own irritation bubbling.
"How do we even know that we can trust him? He's been on the other side for over a year." Harry interrogated.
"I'm right here Potter."
Harry ignored him, "how do we know he's not a spy?"
"You don't. Use Veritaserum on me." Draco rolled his eyes.
"Is that really necessary?" Hermione looked around the table.
Snape procured a small vial from his sleeve, dropping some liquid into a glass of pumpkin juice. Draco tipped it back without hesitation.
"Will you betray the Order's secrets?" Snape struck up the questions.
"No." Draco answered, sounding bored.
"Were you imprisoned and forced into a ritual against your own will?"
"Yes."
"Why were you chosen?"
"As punishment for my Father's errors."
"Did you attempt to hurt Miss Granger?"
"No." Draco frowned.
"Will you hurt, or cause harm to Miss Granger now that you are magically bound?"
"No."
"What is your opinion of The Dark Lord?"
"Psychopath."
At that Ron snorted.
"Will you fight on the side of the light?"
"If you're going to win."
"I think we have enough Severus." Remus stood. "You must be exhausted – we'll have some dinner brought up to your rooms. You'll find space on the third corridor. Hermione, it's good to have you back." He gave her a little squeeze on the shoulder.
Hermione and Draco turned to leave mechanically, an awkward stillness filling the room.
"Come up in a bit?" Hermione asked Harry and Ron.
"Of course." Harry smiled, except it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Draco let Hermione guide him through the frankly quite awful interior.
"I think this one's your room." Hermione's voice punctured the air sometime later.
He peered in – shades of dark green with mahogany furniture.
"Granger, about earlier."
She avoided his gaze.
"They're hiding something, and you know more than you're letting on about this binding business." He crossed his arms.
"I'm tired Malfoy. We can talk later."
He put his hand on the wall, preventing her from moving.
"Really?" She huffed, trying to move forward. He moved closer in response. "Malfoy, get out of my way."
She stared at him defiantly, watching his eyes harden. He swept past her and slammed the door without another word.
Hermione stared at the spot for a moment before moving to her own room. She collapsed on the bed, feeling some relief from the soft mattress and clean sheets. Her mind drifted to the ritual – she replayed the moment several times over, concentrating at the point where their magic fused. The memory was fuzzy around the edges, except for Malfoy's concentrated expression as he pushed his magic back. They had locked eyes at that moment in a solemn, mutual contract of sorts.
She sat up and started to change out of her robes, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked the same, but her core felt changed, more intense. Her fingers brushed her bare abdomen and sides, smoothing her skin, as if it would answer her questions.
Hermione sighed, summoning some of Ginny's clothes. She stopped mid-trousers, remembering the things she said to Malfoy, how she'd bared her soul to him thinking they were the last words they would ever speak to one another. He would want to forget the whole thing, which was perhaps for the best.
A tentative knock.
"Come in," she croaked, her voice still raw from residual anxiety.
"Hey." Ron stooped, trying to walk more quietly than he was able to.
Harry followed soon after and they sat tentatively on her bed, waiting for her to speak.
"Are you ok Hermione, really?" Harry asked.
Hermione looked up to the ceiling, "honestly, I have no idea." She crawled onto the top of the bed, so they were all sat cross legged, as if it were an innocent sleepover.
"Start from the beginning." Ron urged.
Strangely, she felt tears well. She pushed them down, feeling stupid.
"I woke up in a dungeon and first it was just me. I couldn't remember anything about how I got there – they'd obviously tampered with my memories."
"We were in the field; you were going to check the wards and then you didn't come back." Harry gulped, "we checked everywhere and then we suspected you'd been taken. Everyone was looking for you. We were worried sick when we worked out you had been taken."
"We thought you might have been tortured." Ron spoke, his voice barely audible.
"I wasn't. No-one touched me."
They both sank in relief.
"Malfoy appeared pretty soon after I woke up. He was not pleased." She smirked at the memory.
"Did he say anything important?" Harry queried.
"He suspects You Know Who wants the Malfoy fortune, maybe to blackmail or buy off followers, but he didn't talk about Lucius. It was odd though…he wasn't overly mean, kind even, and we just talked." She looked down, embarrassed.
"Of course, he was nice, he's a manipulative arsehole who was trying to get close to you."
"I'm not an idiot Harry."
"We're just concerned. You two seem weirdly close." Ron weighed in.
They observed Hermione as if she were a foreign specimen.
"Don't you two trust my judgement? Look, I'm not saying I trust him, I'm just saying that thinking you're about to die can soften you." She sat back into the pillows. "The cell was sentient too – it was affecting our magic and no doubt our psyches, so we were both vulnerable."
"Right." Harry gave Ron a look, "tell us about the ritual again – did you feel anything happen? Do you feel anything now?"
Hermione hesitated – this wasn't just her secret to tell.
"I can't be sure of anything yet." She answered honestly, "and I want to talk to Malfoy first – this involves both of us whether you like it or not and we might compromise the other."
"It's just so weird. Malfoy is actually in our house." Ron whispered conspiratorially.
"Tell me about it." Hermione replied. "I'm sorry Harry, I know it's hard, but they would've killed him, and we might be able to use him. He's selfish and if he thinks we can win he'll help us."
"You're right, you just sound so…"
"What?"
"Nothing." Harry smiled, his expression off again.
"It's really good to have you back 'Mione." Ron patted down her wild hair. "We'll let you get some sleep. We're one floor down if you need anything."
Harry lingered, "just be careful, ok?"
"I will and I'm not going anywhere Harry." Hermione reassured him, hugging them both on the way out. "Sleep well."
"Night Hermione."
"Night guys."
Hermione would deal with Draco Malfoy in the morning.