Hello dear readers.

This chapter is the one I am the most proud of yet, so I really hope you like it.

Let's go!

Chapter 9 – Burdened, Shackled

The morning sun painted the snow-covered landscape in a soft golden hue as Hermione prepared breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of sizzling bacon filled the cottage. Draco, having spent the night in his room at the cottage, emerged, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted, a warm smile playing on her lips as she set the breakfast table. "Sleep well?"

Draco nodded, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Surprisingly, yes."

Hermione smiled; her mood still uplifted from yesterday's events. "I'm glad. Breakfast is ready. Sit, sit."

They shared a pleasant meal, the awkwardness from the previous night dissipating in the face of normalcy. Draco couldn't help but appreciate the strangely domestic scene—the crackling fire, the aroma of food, and Hermione's warm hospitality. He had never thought that one day, the one and only Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her year, and the girl he tormented since age eleven, would ever be delighting in sharing a meal that she prepared herself with someone like him. He didn't deserve this. He knew he didn't. But he couldn't help but wanting to relish in this moment.

"This is nice," Draco admitted, taking a sip of his coffee. "Almost feels... normal."

Hermione smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "It's been a while since normal was a part of our lives, hasn't it?"

Draco's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he dropped it back onto his plate. After finishing their breakfast, he ran a hand through his hair and looked at her again "We can't keep avoiding the inevitable, Hermione."

She looked at him, concern and dread etched on her face. "I know. We need to talk about what I found in the book."

Draco nodded solemnly. "So, tell me. What did you discover?"

As they cleared the table, Hermione led Draco back to the study. She opened the dreaded book, "Anima Maledicta and Sacra," and began explaining the dark secrets within its pages.

"Hermione," Draco interrupted, his voice tight, "are you telling me that Voldemort might have made himself immortal using... Horcruxes?"

She nodded gravely. "Yes, that's what the book implies. The act of splitting one's soul and hiding it in objects, making it impossible to die as long as the Horcruxes exist. I believe it's the reason he keeps returning."

Draco's face went pale, and he sank into a chair, absorbing the revelation. "But... how many of these has he made? Could he have made more than one?"

Hermione hesitated. "Who knows…but it mentioned that creating a Horcrux requires committing murder."

A heavy silence hung in the air. Draco's eyes, a mix of shock and despair, met Hermione's. "Murder?"

She nodded. "The act of killing is an integral part of the ritual. It's a perversion of magic, Draco."

Draco's jaw tightened, and he looked away, his mind processing the horrifying information. "Is there a way to destroy these... Horcruxes?"

Hermione shook her head, her expression troubled. "The book didn't provide any information on that. It seems to be a well-guarded secret."

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This complicates things further. If we can't destroy the Horcruxes, how are we supposed to defeat him?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she observed Draco's unease. "Draco, there's something more. What aren't you telling me?"

He looked away, the tension in his shoulders evident. "It's nothing. Just the weight of the situation, Granger."

Hermione, however, wasn't convinced. She stepped closer, a determined glint in her eyes. "Don't lie to me, Draco. We're in this together, and we can't afford secrets."

Draco sighed, his eyes meeting hers with reluctance. "The Dark Lord... he's given me another task; an impossible one, yet I cannot refuse it."

Her brows furrowed. "What task?"

Draco's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm supposed to... kill Dumbledore."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "What? But that's... that's impossible!"

Draco winced; his gaze pained. "He doesn't fully trust me, but he thinks this will be the ultimate test of my and my family's loyalty. A suicide mission that I cannot refuse."

Hermione's shock turned to anger. "And you agreed to this? Draco, you can't—"

He interrupted; his voice rising with anger and desperation. "I had no choice, Granger! If I refuse, he'll know I'm not fully on his side. He's watching me closely, and I can't risk exposing us."

Her eyes blazed with frustration. "So, you're just going to go along with this? Let yourself be a puppet in his hands?"

"What do you suggest huh? What do you suggest I do? If I refuse, he kills me right then and there – No - actually he would make me watch as he slowly tortures and kills my mother, and then tortures and kills me. And if I do it, I would need to succeed, even though the possibility of that is slim to none, because if I fail…you get it now, Granger?" Draco's eyes flashed at her with unsuppressed anger as he towered over her, making the girl shiver under his gaze, her eyes wide in fear and horror.

Hermione recoiled at the intensity of Draco's words, the weight of the impossible choices he faced crashing down on her. She had known that Draco was entangled in the Dark Lord's web, but the brutality of the ultimatum he described was beyond her worst fears.

"Draco," she said, her voice breaking through the charged air, "there has to be a way out of this. We can't let him force you into becoming a murderer."

His eyes bore into hers, filled with frustration and despair. "There is no way out! I'm shackled to this fate. He holds the chains, and I have no choice but to follow."

Hermione's mind raced, seeking a solution, an escape from the cruel destiny that awaited Draco. "We need a plan. A way to free you from this, to defy him without putting you and your family in danger."

Draco scoffed bitterly. "Do you think I haven't considered that? You think I haven't agonized over it since the day he told me, since the first day of Christmas break? There's no way to defy him without consequences. He's always one step ahead."

"You can tell Dumbledore! You can go to him after the break and explain everything…he can help you Draco!" Hermione offered desperately; her eyes sill focused on his.

The blond laughed grimly "That's a good one Granger. Yea, I'll just go in to his office and tell him that I was tasked with killing him…what's he going to do Granger huh? Go confront the dark lord himself? I know you Gryffindor lot think he is invincible, but I think you now know who is the truly invincible one in the equation!"

Hermione's face fell as she took it all in. He was right, Voldemort cannot be defeated as long as has horcruxes, and they had no clue about where they are or how to destroy them. And even if Dumbledore knew about Voldemort's secret or even if they told him themselves, the time it would take to even begin to scratch the surface of these questions…

"How much time…how much time do you have to complete your mission Draco?" Hermione asked, her voice shivering with dread.

Draco's looked away, some of his platinum hair covering the defeated look in his eyes "Until June...the end of the school year"

The Gryffindor took a deep breath, gathering some courage before saying "We can't give up. We have some time. We'll find a way. There has to be something we can do."

Draco's expression shifted, a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "You're too optimistic, Granger. This isn't a fairy tale with a happy ending."

She refused to accept defeat. "No, but it's a battle we have to fight. For your sake, for your family's sake, for my sake and for everyone he's hurt."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of their impossible situation settling like a leaden shroud. Draco finally spoke, his voice filled with resignation. "I'm stuck in a nightmare, Hermione. There's no waking up from this."

Hermione's eyes softened with empathy. She moved closer, gently placing her hands on Draco's arms. "You're not alone in this. We face this nightmare together, and together we'll find a way out."

Draco looked at her, a storm of conflicting emotions in his eyes. "You don't understand! You can't fathom the darkness he wields, the power he has over life and death. His fear…is the most dangerous thing our kind has ever faced."

Hermione's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Then help me understand, Draco. We can't conquer this if we're not united against it."

Draco hesitated, his internal turmoil manifesting in the furrowed lines on his forehead. Succumbing to the weight of revelation, he spoke in a hushed murmur, unraveling the cryptic nature of the Dark Lord's fears. "The Dark Lord is not merely dissatisfied with the extent of my loyalty. Snape has a suspicion, a premonition that gnaws at the Dark Lord's consciousness—he fears my magic, the latent power that courses through my veins. If I falter in my attempt to end Dumbledore, he perceives it as betrayal. Yet, should I succeed, he views me as a potential threat... he dreads the notion that I might surpass him in power. The reason he's allowed me to persist in his service is that he envisages wielding me as a formidable weapon."

Hermione's mind raced, attempting to process his statement, as flashbacks of his confrontation with Rodolphus Lestrange rushed through her mind...She had never seen anyone, besides Dumbledore himself, maneuver magic in such a precise, sharp, fluid and powerful way. It was an outstanding sight to behold, even more so considering that the wizard who managed such strength was the same broken boy standing in front of her now. And not just that…come to think of it…she had never heard of anyone able to willingly cast a shield that blocks and rebounds the killing curse… "Wait, how did you–

Draco interrupted, delving into an even bigger revelation. "There exists another prophecy, crafted shortly after Sybill Trelawney's revelation became known to the Dark Lord in March of 1980. This prophecy originated from an ancient seer in Bulgaria named Penka Alferov, whom the Dark Lord is rumored to have consulted frequently. It foretells, 'He who will be born sixteen days before the summer solstice at the dawn of this decade, the progeny of houses ancient and pure, imbued with power so formidable that it shall tilt the balance in favor of the one who wields him, with the fate of wizardkind hanging in the balance of his wand.'"

The room held its breath, a palpable tension wrapping around Draco and Hermione like a tornado. The gravity of their predicament hung in the air, and Draco's gaze wavered between resignation and a spark of hope. The burden of prophecies, dark tasks, and the looming threat of Voldemort's power bore down on him, threatening to crush him completely.

Hermione's eyes had widened with astonishment and fear, the room swaying as the weight of the prophecy settled in her mind. Her hand gripped the desk as she steadied herself and breathed "But that's... that's about you, Draco."

He nodded solemnly. "Yes, it's about me. I am shackled to a prophecy that dictates my very existence. The Dark Lord fears it, and I am trapped within its confines."

Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the world before her as a hand instinctively covered her quivering mouth, stifling the sobs that threatened to escape. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, and a profound question echoed in her mind: How could one individual, especially a mere teenager, endure such overwhelming pressure? The realization struck like a bolt — the parallel struggles of Harry and Draco, two young men shouldering burdens that seemed insurmountable, yet with vastly different circumstances. Harry faced the colossal task of saving the entire wizarding world by defeating Voldemort, but he had a network of support, surrounded by friends, loved ones, and the guidance of Albus Dumbledore. In stark contrast, Draco, forced into the role of a Death Eater, a soldier in Voldemort's dark army before even reaching adulthood, found himself in a nightmarish reality. His own home had transformed into a hellish prison, presided over by a monstrous warden who held not only his fate but also that of his mother in cruel hands.

Draco looked at her with a pained expression, wanting to wipe her tears away, to reassure her, to take her in his arms and whisper in her ears that this was just a nightmare. How he wished he could do that. But his feet remained firm on the wooden floor of the study, as he found himself unable to move, unable to comfort the crying witch.

Suddenly, Hermione did the only thing she could do in a situation like this, like she had done with Harry so many times. She rushed towards him and threw herself into his arms and sobbed into his chest, her hands clutching at his shirt.

Draco stood there, frozen for a moment, feeling the warmth of Hermione's tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt. He hesitated, but gradually, his arms found their way around her, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. His fingers gently brushed her hair, attempting to provide her with some solace.

Hermione's sobs echoed in the small study, the weight of the revelation, the prophecy, and the imminent danger pressing down on both of them. In that vulnerable moment, boundaries seemed to blur, and the complexities of their intertwined destinies melted away. It was just two young souls, burdened by circumstances beyond their control, seeking solace in the presence of someone who understood the depths of their pain.

Draco closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and for a fleeting moment, he wished he could erase the anguish etched across Hermione's face. He felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest, a yearning for something more than the solitary existence he had resigned himself to. He softly kissed the top of her head, wondering if he will ever be allowed to dream of something more with the beautiful and brilliant witch in his arms.

As Hermione's tears subsided, she pulled away from the embrace, her eyes looking at the tired wizard. In that moment, he looked like he was twice his age.

"We can't let this prophecy define you, Draco," Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible. "You can't let this monster control you. You have a choice. You can choose to be the reason of his demise" she added, in more of an attempt to convince herself than him.

A bitter smile played on Draco's lips. "Or I could become the very instrument he uses to conquer all. The prophecy is a double-edged sword, Granger. It can tip the scales in favor of either side."

A heavy silence hung in the air, the weight of their conversation settling around them like an unspoken truth. The room seemed to echo with the enormity of their predicament. Hermione took a deep breath, gathering her Gryffindor courage and determination.

"We can't let him manipulate you any longer, Draco. We have to find a way to break free from the chains that bind you to him, to have you dictate this prophecy in your own terms."

Draco's gaze met hers, despair flickering in his stormy eyes. "And how do you propose we do that, Granger?"

"We find a way. We always do," Hermione asserted, her voice unwavering. "We navigate the complexities of magic, history, and fate to carve our own path. Together."

Draco's skepticism clashed with the spark of hope in his eyes. "You're asking for the impossible."

Hermione smiled, a fire igniting in her gaze. "Then we'll make the impossible happen. We'll defy prophecies, break curses, and bend destiny until we emerge victorious. But we can't do it if you resign yourself to this fate. The world needs you, Draco. Not as Voldemort's weapon, but as the wizard who works to end him."

Draco's jaw tensed, his stormy eyes reflecting the turmoil within. "You're asking me to believe in something I've learned to dismiss—free will. The prophecy, the Dark Lord's demands—they're shackles I can't break."

Hermione's gripped his arms, a fierce determination burning in her eyes. "You're not alone in this. We can do this together. You have a strength, a magic that even the "He who must not be named" fears. We can turn that fear against him."

"But you also have something more than strength, you have something he never had," Hermione insisted, her voice unwavering. "You have people who care about you…you have me."

The weight of Hermione's words hung in the air, and the room seemed to pulse at the same rhythm as his own heart. Draco's stormy eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude and vulnerability breaking through the walls he had erected around himself.

Hermione continued, her voice a gentle yet resolute melody. "You have a choice, Draco. Together, we'll find a way to break the chains that bind you to Voldemort. You're not a pawn in his game; you're a wizard with the power to change the course of history."

Draco's gaze locked onto Hermione's, a mixture of vulnerability and disbelief etched across his features. The weight of her words lingered in the air, challenging the very foundations of his resigned acceptance. Loyalty and the unexpected connection that had woven between them became a glimmer of hope amid the darkness that surrounded them.

Hermione continued, her voice a steady anchor in the storm of uncertainty. "We'll face the prophecy head-on, Draco. Rewrite it if we must. We'll turn the tables on Voldemort, on fate itself."

Draco's gaze softened, the internal struggle evident in his eyes. "You're asking for miracles, Granger."

Her expression turned resolute. "Maybe, but I've seen you perform magic that feels like a miracle."

As if compelled by an unseen force, Hermione reached up and gently cupped Draco's face with her hands. Her touch was both comforting and electrifying, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

"Draco," she whispered, her eyes searching his, "let me be your light in this web of darkness."

His breath caught in his throat as he felt the warmth of her touch, and a surge of emotions welled up within him—gratitude, longing, and a profound connection. In that vulnerable moment, he found solace in her presence, a sanctuary amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

Unable to control his desires any longer, Draco leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss—a silent promise, an unspoken vow. It was a moment that transcended the burdens of their past and the uncertainties of their future.

The world outside the cottage ceased to exist. For Draco, it was a respite from the suffocating weight of his responsibilities. For Hermione, it was a reaffirmation of their shared strength and the possibility of rewriting destiny.

As they pulled away, their eyes met, and the room seemed to glow with a newfound warmth. The air was charged with a sense of liberation, as if the simple act of a kiss had broken the chains that bound them.

"We face the impossible together, Draco," Hermione whispered, her eyes reflecting the courage they had found in each other's embrace.

He nodded, a mix of emotions playing on his face. "Together," he echoed, the weight of the word carrying a promise to defy the odds and forge a path that was uniquely theirs. In that moment, he chose to put his faith in the brilliant witch in front of him to help him face the impossible. With their now shared burden, a promise etched itself in their souls, a promise to confront the looming storm, together, come what may.

And there it is everyone! What did you think of the Draco's revelations and Hermione's response? Let me know in your reviews!

Until next time,

Cleo26