Bound by Fate

Chapter 22: A Day Apart, A Night Together

The tension in Malfoy Manor had grown palpable since Draco's conversation with his mother. The revelation of the Pureblood Pull gnawed at him, the idea that he and Hermione were bound by something far greater than either of them could control. Draco felt suffocated, the weight of it pressing down on him every time he caught a glimpse of her in the manor. He needed air—he needed out.

That morning, Draco had decided it was time to leave the confines of the house, if only for a few hours. He had arranged to meet Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, two of his old school friends, at a local pub. He didn't really care for the company—he just needed something to distract him from the swirling chaos in his mind.

As he prepared to leave, Draco found himself standing outside Hermione's room. The thought of asking her to come with him had crossed his mind, though he wasn't entirely sure why. The pull between them had only intensified, and every time they were near each other, he could feel it—like a magnetic force drawing him closer to her, whether he wanted it or not.

He knocked softly, and a moment later, Hermione opened the door, her eyes curious but guarded. "Draco?" she asked, her brow furrowed slightly.

"I'm heading out for a bit," Draco said, his voice careful. "I'm meeting some friends at a pub. I thought... maybe you'd want to come."

Hermione blinked, surprised by the offer. It wasn't like Draco to invite her anywhere, especially not with his friends. But as much as the idea intrigued her, she had other plans for the day. "Actually," she said, a small smile playing at her lips, "I was thinking of going out shopping. I could use a few things."

Draco nodded, a hint of disappointment flickering in his chest, though he quickly brushed it aside. "Right. Well, I'll see you later, then."

Hermione nodded, watching him for a moment before closing the door. She couldn't shake the strange feeling that lingered between them—something she had felt growing stronger with each passing day. But she had no time to dwell on it now.

Diagon Alley was bustling with life as Hermione made her way through the narrow streets, her mind focused on the items she needed. It was a relief to be out of Malfoy Manor, to feel the air and energy of the world outside. She spent the morning moving from shop to shop, picking up new clothes, a few potions ingredients, and a small collection of books she had been eyeing for weeks.

As she turned a corner, her gaze caught a familiar flash of messy black hair and fiery red curls. Her heart skipped a beat.

For a brief moment, Hermione froze, her eyes widening as she thought she saw Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley walking hand in hand across the street. She blinked, her breath catching in her throat as her mind raced. Could it be...?

But when she looked again, the figures were gone, lost in the crowd. Hermione let out a slow breath, shaking her head. It couldn't have been them. Harry and Ginny were long gone—disappeared, likely dead in the aftermath of Voldemort's reign. Still, the sight had shaken her.

She brushed the thought aside and continued with her day, though the image of them lingered at the edges of her mind, like a shadow that wouldn't quite fade.

Draco's afternoon at the pub with Blaise and Theo had been largely uneventful. The two of them were their usual selves—aloof, somewhat disinterested in the world outside their own concerns. They exchanged a few pleasantries, downed several rounds of firewhisky, and traded stories of the post-war days. But Draco's mind was elsewhere, constantly drifting back to Hermione, to the conversation with Narcissa, and to the growing pull he felt between them.

After several hours, Draco decided he had had enough. The weight of his thoughts was too much to ignore, and the firewhisky had done little to dull the strange emotions swirling inside him.