Chained to you
A/N- Dive into the captivating world of "Chained to You" with chapter five! I can't wait for you to experience this thrilling journey. Enjoy the ride!
Chapter Five: Going Back
Hermione carefully navigated the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, her heart racing with anticipation and apprehension as she approached the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room. Glancing around, she ensured the coast was clear before whispering the carefully memorized password that would grant her access. With a soft click and a slight shimmer in the air, the entrance slid open, revealing a narrow path that wound its way to Nott's territory.
"Lumos," she muttered, and her wand tip illuminated the darkened space, casting flickering light that flickered against the cold stone walls. The path was lined with shadows, and as Hermione walked, she could feel the weight of the darkness pressing in around her. Clutching her map tightly, she adjusted her grip, determination etched on her features as she continued forward, each step bringing her closer to her destination.
After what felt like an eternity, she reached a heavy wooden door. Breathing in deeply to steady her nerves, Hermione whispered the password once more, magic weaving itself around her words just as the door creaked open to reveal a spacious room awash in green and silver—Slytherin's colours. The common room was opulent yet imposing, with plush furnishings and an air of exclusivity that felt foreign to her.
As she stepped inside, she dismissed the light from her wand, letting her eyes adjust to the dim ambiance. She lingered by the doorway, observing the décor with a critical eye. The single prominent feature of the room was a magnificent king-sized bed draped in rich green fabric, sitting alcoved in the far corner, a statement piece that seemed to mock the shared dormitories of other houses. "The nerve to have the other students sharing, and they have their rooms," she thought bitterly, shaking her head at the injustices of it all.
Ten long minutes ticked by as she remained in her chosen spot, listening intently to the quiet sounds of the common room. Finally, the door swung open, and Nott walked in, his presence commanding as he strode in with purpose. Hermione watched, her breath hitching slightly, as he waved his wand with practiced ease, casting a series of locking charms before muttering a silent spell that enveloped the entrance in an air of secrecy. She remained hidden in the shadows, bracing herself for whatever the encounter might bring.
"Nott…"
Hermione watched as he jumped in surprise, a reflexive grin creeping onto her face at his animated reaction. He spun around rapidly, his wand now gripped tightly in his hand, ready to defend himself or cast a spell.
"Granger?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise at her presence.
"I read the book, and it's rubbish and unethical!" she said, her voice rising in intensity. "I refuse to believe that purebloods are that egotistical!" Her words burst forth with enthusiasm, each phrase laced with her passionate conviction against the ideology she had encountered within the pages.
Nott tilted his head slightly and smirked at her, a spark of amusement in his gray eyes. He stepped closer, unexpectedly reaching out to gently place his finger on her lips, silencing her mid-sentence. An involuntary shiver coursed through him at the brief contact, but he quickly dismissed the sensation. Hermione's eyes widened in shock, her mouth closing abruptly as she processed the gesture.
"Granger, my seventh great-grandfather, authored that book. It's important to understand that it has nothing to do with me. Besides, I actually agree with you… well, most of what you said," he admitted, lowering his wand and slipping it back into its holder, an air of sincerity enveloping his words.
"Why are you here? And how did you manage to enter my rooms without a single Slytherin catching you?" Nott inquired, his brow furrowing with curiosity, trying to piece together how she had managed to evade detection.
"I came to talk," Hermione replied, her tone turning serious as she began to rummage through her bag. I think I may have found a way, but…" Her voice trailed off, an air of uncertainty hanging in the air. She pulled out the family book, its worn cover evidence of extensive study, and flipped it open to the page marked with her bookmark. The corners of the paper were slightly frayed from her repeated handling.
With deliberate slowness, she turned the book towards Nott, her eyes searching his expression for any sign of recognition or understanding.
"Granger… that's extremely dangerous," he responded cautiously, his voice low as he scanned the text she had indicated. "The spell can only be performed by a Nott… I'm honestly not looking forward to sending you back to where that bracelet came from, especially since I don't know what Draco did to you." His gaze was serious as he flipped through the pages to reinforce his point, his mind racing with the implications of her discovery.
"I've read every word in that book, Nott. I want this bracelet off," Hermione muttered, her determination unwavering. "And believe it or not, Malfoy, in this reality, wants it off, too." She clenched her fists around the book, her resolve solid as she faced him, desperate for a solution.
"I know, Granger, but it's… complicated," Nott said, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words.
"I don't care if it's dangerous. Please, Nott…" Hermione's voice trembled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked up at him imploringly. "He can't control himself like the others did." The weight of her worry hung in the air between them, palpable and pressing.
Nott met her gaze, finding himself momentarily lost in her expression. He had thought she was cute before, with her bushy hair and fierce determination, but now, standing there in their sixth-year robes, bathed in the soft light of the library, she appeared genuinely beautiful. His heart raced at the thought, but a familiar dark cloud loomed over him—his family's rigid beliefs would never allow him to pursue anything with a Muggleborn. He doubted she felt the same about him anyway.
"Fine. We need help," Nott replied, the sense of obligation driving him forward despite his inner turmoil.
Hermione's face brightened as she nodded enthusiastically, her smile illuminating her features. "Thank you," she said, relief evident in her voice.
"Just because I'm a Slytherin and a pureblood doesn't mean I can't lend a hand," he answered a hint of defiance in his tone. "Not all Slytherins are evil, you know."
At his words, Hermione's cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She nodded, her gaze dropping momentarily as she grappled with the complexities of their friendship. Their connection felt charged, a shared understanding and unspoken bond forming amidst the chaos of their world.
Theo stepped out of the dimly lit room, the heavy oak door creaking softly behind him as he made his way down the narrow corridor toward the common room. His mind was racing with thoughts of Draco—he knew exactly where to find him, buried under heaps of potion textbooks. As he crossed the threshold into the common room, he spotted the familiar figure of Draco Malfoy, his platinum blonde hair gleaming in the warm glow of the fireplace, a look of intense concentration etched on his face as he flipped through the pages of his books.
"Draco…" Theo called out as he approached, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with urgency.
Draco glanced up, one eyebrow arching skeptically. "Why?" he inquired, a hint of impatience threading through his tone.
"There's someone with a bracelet in my room," Theo replied, keeping his voice low, conscious of the eyes and ears around them.
Draco's expression shifted, his eyes widening in surprise. "How do you know about it?" he pressed, a mix of curiosity and concern evident in his voice.
Before Theo could respond, a voice chimed in from behind them. "Yeah, how?" It was Blaise Zabini, his dark eyes glimmering with interest as he sidled up next to them.
Caught off guard, Theo quickly turned to face Blaise. "I don't know," he admitted, frustration creeping into his tone, "but she's in my room."
Blaise shook his head, clearly unfazed but intrigued. "No, well, that part is obvious, but how do you know about the bracelet?" Draco reiterated, his question tinged with urgency.
Theo took a breath, recalling the previous conversation he'd overheard between Draco and Blaise. "I overheard you telling Blaise that you really need to make sure you are alone," he explained, glancing between the two of them as they exchanged concerned looks.
Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Fine, let's go," he finally said, the edge of determination creeping into his voice. He and Blaise rose to their feet simultaneously, and Theo felt a sense of relief wash over him as he turned on his heel to lead the way.
The three of them navigated the winding passages of the Slytherin dungeon until they reached Theo's door. With a deep breath to steady himself, Theo pushed the door open, the hinges creaking slightly as he stepped inside. A wave of disappointment flooded through him when he saw that Granger was nowhere to be found.
"Granger?" he called out hesitantly, his voice reverberating quietly in the stillness of the empty room—the uncertainty wrapped around each word like a shroud. Dim light filtered through the window, casting long shadows, and at that moment, the silence felt almost oppressive. Suddenly, a head appeared from behind his bed, and there was Hermione Granger, her brow furrowed in concentration, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, ready for action.
He rolled his eyes in exasperation, a blend of irritation and amusement swirling within him. What on earth had transpired to make her so jumpy? The question lingered in his mind as he tried to piece together the chaotic events of the previous hours, moments filled with spells, whispers, and the anxiety thickening the air.
Hermione positioned herself quietly behind Nott's bed, the subtle weight of anticipation settling in her stomach. The dim light from the corridor spilled into the room as the door creaked open. She held her breath, listening intently for any hint of their conversation, until she caught the unmistakable sound of her last name being uttered.
With a swift, deliberate movement, she peeked around the edge of the bed, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, ready for whatever might come next. The shadows shifted as Nott, Malfoy, and Zabini stepped into the room, their confident strides betraying no hint of hesitation.
"Well?" Hermione called out, her voice steady despite the tension thrumming in the air. She narrowed her eyes, studying the trio, poised for the unexpected turn that was about to unfold.
Theo looked at Draco and stated," I know a way to help, but it's dangerous. However, before we go and do this. Granger, you need to tell the full truth.
He could see her biting her lip, and then, by a miracle, Draco stepped up. "Granger, please tell the whole truth, " he gently said.
The bracelet compelled her to reveal everything—the abuse, the insults, and even the violation. While the bracelet may have forced her body into compliance, her mind remained resistant, and neither her thoughts nor her will acted in those moments.
She noticed the horrified and repulsed expressions on Nott, Zabini, and Malfoy's faces. "Are you satisfied now?" Hermione snapped.
"Not in the sightless. "Malfoy said. He turned to Nott and asked, "The idea."
Nott nodded in agreement and explained the spell he had read about in his book, suggesting that Malfoy's should contain a similar enchantment.
"Stay here," Malfoy instructed before exiting the room.
Zabini had remained silent throughout the tense atmosphere, his eyes lingering on Hermione as he observed the unmistakable flicker of distress on her face. It was clear to him that she longed to escape the situation, to flee from the judgmental gazes that surrounded her. With a heavy sigh, he decided to intervene subtly. He swiftly drew his wand and summoned a cup filled with the warm, comforting aroma of pumpkin juice.
"Here, Granger," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he extended the cup towards her. Watching as she took the cup with hesitant fingers, he noted the way her lips curled around the rim. A grateful yet weary expression clouded her features as she took a sip.
Inside, he felt a swell of anger at the thought of Draco's callous behaviour that had caused her so much discomfort. Zabini couldn't fathom how someone could be so thoughtless, especially when it came to Hermione. Yes, she was a Muggle-born, but that should never have been a reason for anyone to hurl insults at her.
In his mind, he reflected on the complexities of their world. Some purebloods held themselves to a code that forbade such cruelty—especially the males, who often hid behind their family names. But the girls, the ones raised with the expectation to maintain appearances, could be just as fierce, favouring biting remarks as their weapons of choice. Zabini shook his head slightly; words could wound deeper than any physical altercation. As he watched Hermione drink, he silently vowed to make sure that she wouldn't have to endure such pain alone.
"Back," Draco called out, his voice echoing slightly as he re-entered the room. The dim light flickered off the pages of the book he had been reading, opening to a passage that seemed to hold his complete attention. He settled into an armchair, the worn leather creaking softly under his weight, as he resumed his exploration of the story within the pages.
Across the room, Theo caught Hermione's gaze, a subtle but undeniable spark of determination in his eyes. He gestured for her to approach him, and after a moment's hesitation, she bit her lip, steeling herself, and walked over. Each step felt heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.
"I went through the spell," Theo began, his tone serious yet tinged with an unexpected warmth. "I'm assuming you have as well." He paused, giving her a moment to respond, but Hermione merely nodded, her brow furrowed in concentration as she focused on what he was about to say next.
Theo then reached into his pocket and produced a ring, lifting it from his palm as if it were a fragile piece of history. "I'm giving you a Nott heirloom to keep with you. And no," he added quickly, a hint of a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, "it isn't a bracelet, nor does it have my name inscribed on it."
He held up the Nott Signature Ring, a striking piece that gleamed with an intricate design, passed down through generations from father to son. The metal felt cool against his skin, and the history embedded in it felt immense. For the women of his family, there was an opal locket, a delicate necklace that held its legacy. Theo's gesture was significant, one that represented trust and a bond that was growing between them.
Hermione stared at the ring, feeling the weight of the moment as she absorbed its meaning. The gift was both a token of trust and a reminder of the journey they were embarking on together.
He delicately removed his wand from his pocket, its polished surface glinting in the soft light. With a subtle grace, he tapped it against the ornate ring that gleamed in the palm of his hand. "Il cimelio temporaneo consente a Hermione Granger di usare il tuo potere e portarla dove dice," he pronounced, his voice steady yet filled with an undercurrent of urgency.
Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief, her heart racing as the weight of his words sank in. She felt the gravity of the moment, realizing the significance of what was happening. As Theo handed over the family ring, she instinctively drew it closer to her chest, seeking comfort in its warmth and the protection it symbolized.
In that instant, she recalled her studies surrounding the Signature Rings of pureblood families—artifacts rich with history and power that linked their wearers to generations of tradition. Memories of Ron's older brother, who proudly wore the Weasley family ring, flashed through her mind. She understood now that this was more than just a piece of jewelry; it was a conduit of magic, legacy, and unbreakable bonds. Holding the ring tightly, she felt a rush of responsibility and hope intertwine within her.
"Where should I put this?" Hermione inquired.
Theo pondered for a moment before moving to his dresser. He sifted through his garments, finally pulling aside a few items to reveal a long chain. He approached her and handed it over. Hermione accepted the chain and carefully threaded the ring onto it. Afterward, she draped the necklace around her neck, allowing the ring to settle comfortably between her breasts.
Draco raised his gaze, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the shimmering ring glinting in the light. He exchanged a knowing look with Theo, a subtle understanding passing between them. "Indeed," he affirmed, his voice low but steady. "I do possess that spell. However," he continued, the gravity of his words settling in, "I must warn you—it is perilous. The consequences of its use can be severe.
Hermione just looked at Malfoy but didn't say anything. He only sighed and said," Fine. The only problem that I see is that since I'm going with you, only one Draco Malfoy can exist in the same dimension. My Malfoy book, as a spell, gives a lead away to have two, but it only works for four hours before I emerge with the world's Draco Malfoy."
Hermione fixed her gaze on him, a hint of uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she tilted her head slightly to the side. "Maybe you shouldn't come with me," she suggested, her voice laced with concern.
Draco stood firm, his expression resolute. "Granger… Yes, I'm coming with you; deal with it," he affirmed, his tone leaving no room for argument. The intensity of his molten silver-grey eyes held her attention, a silent promise that he would stand by her side despite the risks. At that moment, Hermione felt an unspoken understanding pass between them. Though they occupied opposite sides in their ongoing rivalry, she recognized that his disdain for the other Malfoy—his family name that bore so much weight—surpassed any enmity he might have toward her. Despite their complicated history, loyalty and conviction burned brightly in him, compelling him to follow her into the unknown.
"Granger… are you certain about this?" Nott questioned, his brow furrowing with concern as he studied her expression. Hermione turned to meet his gaze, her determination shining through despite the nervous flutter in her stomach. She gave a resolute nod, her dark curls swaying slightly with the movement.
"Yes, Nott. I'm ready," she replied, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of apprehension. "I'm scared, but I'm ready." As she spoke, she instinctively pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an unconscious gesture that revealed her anxiety. The air around them felt charged with anticipation, and Hermione took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead.
Blaise leaned against the cold stone wall of the Slytherin common room, his heart heavy with a mixture of admiration and frustration as he watched his classmates. He longed to step in and offer more help, but the harsh reality of his heritage loomed over him like a dark shadow. Without a family book to prove his lineage and with his half-blood status, he held a precarious position within the rigid hierarchy of the pureblood society. This was a secret his mother had guarded fiercely, compounding the complexities of his existence in a world that valued blood purity above all else.
The only person who shared this burden was his best friend, Draco Malfoy. Blaise felt a deep sense of gratitude toward Draco for keeping his secret safe from their peers and understanding the stakes involved. He had witnessed the devastating fallout when another half-blood student had been revealed during his fifth year, leading to that unfortunate boy's departure from Hogwarts. The lad's family, fearing for their reputation, had whisked him away to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, removing him from the suffocating environment of Slytherin, where whispers of impurity could turn into a social death sentence.
As his gaze shifted to Hermione Granger, a tight knot formed in his stomach. He couldn't shake off the worry that consumed him whenever he thought about her ambitious plans. The stakes were incredibly high, and despite her considerable talent for magic—she could perform complex charms with an ease that left many in awe—Blaise felt an unsettling fear creeping in. The recent interaction with the other Draco, an embodiment of everything dangerous and unpredictable about their world, had left its mark on her. He had seen the flicker of fear in her brown eyes too often lately, and it gnawed at him.
What if things went wrong? What if the purebloods caught wind of this? The thought was terrifying. He knew that part of the pureblood culture revelled in their superiority, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness for Hermione. If she were to falter amidst their ambitions, the consequences could be dire. Blaise inhaled deeply, trying to steady his racing heart. He had to find a way to support her without exposing his vulnerabilities.
"Now, let's do this," Theo said, his gaze firmly fixed on both Granger and Draco, the weight of their situation pressing down on him. The atmosphere felt charged, a palpable tension hanging in the air. This was truly dangerous, and a part of him wished they could find an easier way out of their predicament, but reality rarely offered such comforts.
Draco, his expression focused and intense, reached out for Theo's hand. His voice dropped to a near whisper as he recited ancient incantations that echoed with the power of ages past. Theo felt a surge of energy as he, too, began to murmur spells, the words flowing from his lips with an almost effortless grace. Every flick of his wand was deliberate, a dance of precise movements that mirrored the urgency of their task.
As they chanted, a swirling white mist enveloped both Granger and Draco, tendrils of magic coiling around them until, in an instant, they vanished. Where Granger had stood, an echo of her now appeared—a spectre from an alternate reality. This version of Granger wore an expression of sheer terror, her wide eyes darting around as panic gripped her. She trembled visibly, each shiver betraying a deep-seated fear.
Theo's heart sank as he noticed Blaise instinctively taking a step back, pressing himself against the wall to avoid startling her further. Granger's movements were erratic, almost unnatural, as she struggled to comprehend her surroundings—a sickening feeling twisted in the pit of Theo's stomach. The sight sent a chill down his spine.
"Granger…," Theo murmured, his voice barely rising above the whisper of the mist surrounding them. The uncertainty of what lay ahead loomed large, but they had to face it together.
A/N- I hope you like this chapter. Chapter Six will be coming your way soon as well. The spell that Theo used was this:" Temporary heirloom, allow Hermione Granger to use your power and take her to where she says." I used a translator to make it into Italian. Sorry if it is not right.