Bonded Ch 4
Draco lay on his bed that night, the curtains around him drawn tight, blocking out the chatter of his housemates. His mind replayed the moment in the common room—Hermione, so close he could see the golden flecks in her eyes, the warmth of her presence sending his carefully constructed walls crumbling.
He groaned, running a hand over his face. What is wrong with me? he thought. He'd almost kissed her.
The realization sent a chill through him. He hadn't even considered the consequences—what that might mean for her, for him. His instinct had been to move closer, to let himself feel what had been building between them.
But what right did he have to do that?
Hermione was everything good in the world—brilliant, compassionate, unflinchingly brave. And he was… damaged. A former Death Eater with scars he didn't know if he could ever erase. The last thing he wanted was to taint her life with the weight of his past.
Still, he couldn't ignore how natural it felt to be with her, how her laughter eased the constant tension in his chest, how her unwavering faith in his ability to change made him want to be better.
He turned onto his side, staring at the faint patterns of light that danced across the canopy of his bed. He couldn't let this go too far. For her sake, he had to keep his distance. She deserved someone who could give her the kind of life he wasn't sure he could ever offer.
But even as he resolved to put space between them, the thought of losing the fragile connection they'd built sent a pang of longing through him that he couldn't quite suppress.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione sat cross-legged on her bed, a book resting forgotten in her lap. The events of the evening replayed in her mind on an endless loop—Draco's quiet intensity, the way his gray eyes had softened when they'd met hers, the moment when she thought he might lean in…
Her cheeks warmed at the memory, and she bit her lip, frustrated with herself. This is ridiculous, she thought. She was Hermione Granger—logical, rational, always in control. She didn't get flustered by something as trivial as a boy.
Except he wasn't just any boy. Draco Malfoy had once represented everything she hated, everything she fought against. And yet, over the past months, he'd become someone else entirely. Someone she laughed with, someone who challenged her, someone who made her feel seen in a way she hadn't expected.
She let out a sigh, her gaze drifting to the frost-covered window. The feelings stirring in her weren't something she could ignore any longer. But what did they mean? Was it simply the product of their shared circumstances, the long hours spent together, or was it something deeper?
And if it was something deeper, could she trust it? Could she trust him?
A small voice in the back of her mind reminded her of all the moments he'd shown his vulnerability—the quiet apologies, the way he listened when she spoke, the flashes of self-awareness that hinted at how hard he was trying to change.
She rested her chin in her hand, her brow furrowed. She wanted to believe in him, to believe that the person she saw now was the real Draco. But what if she was wrong? What if she let herself care, and it all fell apart?
Hermione closed her eyes, leaning back against the headboard, trying to still the whirl of thoughts racing through her mind. There was something undeniable between them, a pull that had grown stronger with every passing day.
Draco was no longer the boy who sneered at her in corridors or threw cruel words like daggers. He was someone different now—more grounded, more human. But that didn't erase the risks.
Could she afford to let him in? Did she even want to risk her heart?
A faint knock at her door startled her from her thoughts. "Hermione?" Ginny's voice carried through the wood. "You in there?"
She had almost forgotten that she gave Ginny the password to their dorm months ago, she had never used it until now. Hermione quickly closed the book she hadn't been reading and called out, "Come in."
Ginny poked her head through the door, her sharp eyes immediately picking up on Hermione's restless energy. "You look like you've been overthinking something." She stepped inside, folding her arms as she leaned against the bedpost. "Want to talk about it?"
Hermione hesitated. Ginny was one of her closest friends, someone she trusted implicitly, but even so, voicing her feelings about Draco felt too raw, too soon. "I'm just… sorting things out," she said vaguely.
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Sorting things out, huh? Does this have anything to do with Malfoy?"
Hermione's head snapped up, her heart skipping a beat. "What? No! Why would you think that?"
Ginny smirked knowingly. "Because I'm not blind, Hermione. I see the way he looks at you, and I see the way you don't look away. Something's going on, isn't it?"
Hermione felt her face flush. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think… I think he's changed, Ginny. And it's confusing because I didn't expect to feel anything like this."
Ginny softened, moving to sit beside her. "It's okay to feel confused, Hermione. You don't have to have everything figured out right away." She gave Hermione's hand a reassuring squeeze. "But if he's really changed, and if he makes you happy, then maybe it's worth exploring."
Hermione swallowed hard, her chest tightening at the thought. "What if it's a mistake? What if I'm wrong about him?"
Ginny tilted her head thoughtfully. "That's always a possibility, but from what I've seen, Malfoy's trying. And if anyone can hold him accountable, it's you. Plus, I've been itching to practice my Bat Bogey Hex, I don't want to get rusty."
~~~~~~~~~~~
In the boys' dormitory, Draco tossed and turned, unable to find peace. The memory of Hermione's eyes, the brief touch of her hand, haunted him like a ghost.
"What's got you so worked up, Malfoy?" Smith's voice broke through the darkness, low and teasing.
Draco stilled, silently cursing Smith's sharp perception. "Nothing," he muttered.
"Sure, nothing," Zach drawled, clearly unimpressed. "You've been pacing like a caged dragon all week. Is it the Granger situation?"
Draco sat up, scowling in the dim light. "There's no 'situation.' She's just… a friend."
Zacharias raised an eyebrow, his grin wicked. "Right. A 'friend' you can't stop staring at. A 'friend' who's made you slightly less insufferable."
"Shut it, Smith," Draco snapped, though his tone lacked its usual bite.
Zach leaned back against his pillows, smirking. "Look, we're not friends and I don't care who you fancy. But if you do like her, you might want to do something about it before someone else does."
Draco stiffened at the thought, the idea of someone else winning Hermione's affections stirring an uncomfortable twist of jealousy in his chest. "It's not that simple," he muttered.
Zach shrugged. "It never is. But you're Draco bloody Malfoy. You don't do simple. Just figure it out before you drive the rest of us mad with your moping."
Draco fell back onto his bed with a frustrated groan, staring at the ceiling. Smith's words lingered, cutting through his insecurities.
What if she's worth the risk?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The warmth of the Gryffindor common room felt amplified by the festive decorations that glittered around them. Christmas morning had come, and Hermione sat curled up by the fireplace, unwrapping a small, neatly tied package Draco had handed her just moments ago.
Inside was a delicate glass vial containing a fresh mandrake leaf. She stared at it, stunned, as the implications sank in.
"Draco," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is this… what I think it is?"
He stood before her, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, though there was nothing casual about the way his grey eyes fixed on her. "It is," he said simply. "I haven't forgotten about our deal. I thought, well, what better time to start?"
Her heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of the gift. Becoming an Animagus was no small endeavor—it was one of the most complex forms of magic, requiring precision, dedication, and patience. The journey started with keeping a mandrake leaf in one's mouth for an entire month, a test of will and resolve.
She set the vial down carefully and rose to face him. "You… you're going to help me?"
"Of course," Draco said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You didn't think I'd let you go through the process alone, did you? Besides…" He hesitated, running a hand through his platinum hair. "I know how much it means to you. And honestly, I think it'll suit you."
Hermione crossed her arms, her tone playful despite her awe. "And what makes you such an expert on Animagi, Malfoy?"
His smirk widened. "You know my cousin Sirius was an animagus. He taught my mother one night when..well..she had had a bad argument with my father and gone to him. Anyway, he walked her through the process. When things started worsening with the Dark Lord she taught me. Just in case I needed some way to defend myself or disguise myself. And now I want to walk through it with you."
The weight of his words settled between them, and for a moment, all she could do was look at him, marveling at the man who had once been her enemy and was now quickly becoming so much more.
She stepped closer, her voice softer. "Thank you, Draco. For this—for everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."
His smirk faded into something more vulnerable as he reached out, his fingers brushing hers. "You'd manage just fine. But I'd rather be here with you."
Their gazes held, the unspoken connection deepening between them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The mandrake leaf rested uncomfortably under Hermione's tongue as she pored over notes in her worn journal. Despite the challenges of the New Year and school starting back, she had committed to the process with unwavering determination. Draco sat across from her at the small desk in their shared quarters, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he watched her frown.
"You know, Granger," he drawled, "you're making that face again. The one that says, 'I'll hex anyone who interrupts me.'"
Hermione glared at him, though her expression softened when she noticed the playful gleam in his eyes. She attempted to respond, only to remember the leaf in her mouth. Instead, she pointed to her notes and gestured dramatically.
Draco chuckled, standing to lean over her work. "You're overthinking it," he said, tapping the parchment where she'd written meticulous calculations about moon phases. "The process is part science, yes, but magic is also instinctual. Trust yourself."
Hermione huffed through her nose but nodded, her focus unwavering.
~~~~~~~
By the time February arrived, Hermione had completed the first step of the transformation: carrying the mandrake leaf for a month. It was both a relief and a new challenge as the next phase began—a brewing potion requiring ingredients as rare as her determination.
Draco surprised her one evening by returning from Hogsmeade with a package of powdered silver and dew collected from a place untouched by sunlight.
"How did you get these?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with disbelief as she inspected the precious items.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I have my ways."
"Draco, this is incredible," she murmured, glancing up at him.
"Anything for you, Granger," he replied, his voice soft and sincere.
~~~~~~~~
It was Valentine's Day when Hermione reached the final and most harrowing stage of the process: the transformation itself. The ritual had to take place under a full moon and required absolute focus.
Draco stood at her side as they prepared in the clearing near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Snow blanketed the ground, its pristine surface glinting under the moonlight. Hermione clutched her wand tightly, her breath forming clouds in the icy air.
"You're ready for this," Draco assured her, his hand resting on her shoulder.
"What if it goes wrong?" Hermione whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
"It won't," he said firmly, his gaze locking with hers. "You've worked too hard for this. Trust the magic. Trust yourself."
She nodded, drawing strength from his confidence.
As she closed her eyes and focused on her intent, she felt the magic build within her, raw and untamed. Her body tingled as warmth spread through her limbs, and then the sensation intensified—a sharp, almost unbearable pull from within.
Draco watched in awe as her form began to shift. Her hair seemed to ripple like a mane, her figure shrinking and elongating simultaneously. A brilliant golden light erupted, momentarily blinding him.
When the light faded, a magnificent lioness stood in Hermione's place. Her coat was sleek, a blend of amber and gold, and her eyes—sharp, intelligent, and unwavering—were distinctly her own.
Draco inhaled sharply, stepping forward. "Hermione…"
The lioness regarded him silently, her powerful form radiating strength and grace. Slowly, she padded toward him, her movements fluid and commanding.
When she brushed against him, Draco chuckled, his awe giving way to pure admiration. "You're breathtaking," he murmured, running a hand through her fur.
Hermione transformed back moments later, collapsing slightly as the strain of the ritual hit her. Draco caught her before she hit the ground, his arms wrapping her in her robe and steadying her.
"You did it," he said, his voice filled with pride.
She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed from the cold and the exertion. "I couldn't have done it without you."
Their gazes held, the intensity of the moment drawing them closer until their foreheads touched.
"Happy Valentines Day, Hermione," Draco whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of their breathing.