Bound by Fate

Chapter 27: The Pull Tightens

The days at Malfoy Manor had grown busier as the wedding date between Draco and Astoria approached. The once-quiet hallways were now filled with the soft hum of preparations—decorations being arranged, letters being sent back and forth between the Greengrass family and the Malfoys, and meetings with tailors and florists. Astoria was constantly present, gliding through the manor with her effortless grace, always at Draco's side, discussing details of the upcoming ceremony.

Hermione watched all of this from the shadows, her heart heavy with a jealousy she tried desperately to ignore. She had known this was coming—the marriage, the inevitable separation between her and Draco—but seeing it unfold before her eyes was more painful than she had anticipated. Astoria's presence only reminded her of everything she was about to lose.

At first, Hermione had tried to distance herself from the situation, burying herself in her research or taking long walks through the gardens to clear her mind. But the more time Astoria spent with Draco, the more Hermione's heart ached. Every time she saw them together—talking quietly in the drawing room, walking the grounds arm in arm—it was like a dagger twisting in her chest.

The pull between her and Draco had not diminished; if anything, it had grown stronger. But with the wedding date nearing, Hermione felt like time was slipping through her fingers. She couldn't keep denying what she felt for Draco, but with Astoria constantly by his side, it was becoming impossible to act on those feelings.

One evening, after spending the day watching Astoria and Draco together, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She needed a break—a distraction from the suffocating jealousy that had been consuming her. She decided to go out, to leave the manor and forget, even if just for a few hours.

She stood in front of her wardrobe, her fingers trailing over the fabrics as she debated what to wear. Finally, she pulled out a deep red dress that hugged her curves and accentuated her figure in ways she hadn't thought about in months. She slipped into the dress, her hands shaking slightly as she applied a touch of makeup and let her hair fall in loose waves around her shoulders.

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the woman staring back at her. Gone was the bookish girl who had spent her days in the library. For the first time in a long time, Hermione felt powerful, beautiful—and determined to take control of her own life, if only for one night.

She left her room quietly, making her way through the manor without drawing attention to herself. She didn't want anyone to stop her, especially not Draco. She needed to get out of there before she lost her nerve.

Draco hadn't noticed Hermione's absence until after she had already left. He had been caught up in yet another conversation with Astoria about the wedding arrangements when it hit him—he hadn't seen Hermione all evening. A strange sense of unease settled over him, but with the wedding drawing closer, he couldn't afford to leave Astoria's side for too long.

But as the evening wore on, Draco's thoughts kept drifting to Hermione. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that she needed him. He excused himself from the conversation with Astoria, intending to go find her, but when he reached her room, it was empty.

The pub was lively, a stark contrast to the quiet tension of Malfoy Manor. Hermione sat at the bar, nursing a glass of firewhisky, her thoughts spinning as the alcohol slowly began to dull the edge of her jealousy and frustration. She hadn't been to a pub in what felt like ages, and the noise, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it was all a welcome distraction from the weight of her feelings.

But as she sat there, lost in her thoughts, a familiar voice broke through the din.

"Hermione?"

She froze, her heart skipping a beat as she turned to see two figures standing just a few feet away—figures she hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime.

"Harry? Ginny?" Hermione's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with shock.

Harry grinned, his messy black hair as untamed as ever, while Ginny stood beside him, her fiery red hair glowing under the pub's dim lights. She looked radiant, her hand resting on her stomach in a protective, almost unconscious gesture.

For a moment, Hermione couldn't speak. She stared at them, her mind struggling to process the fact that they were here, standing in front of her, after all this time. She hadn't seen them since the fall of Hogwarts, since everything had fallen apart.

"Harry, Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms around them both in a tight embrace. The overwhelming emotions of the past few weeks melted away in an instant, replaced by the joy of seeing her friends again. "I can't believe it. I thought... I thought you were gone."

"We've been in hiding," Harry explained as they all sat down at a nearby table. "After everything... well, we thought it was best to lay low for a while."

"And we heard about you," Ginny added, her tone softer but filled with concern. "About you... being with Draco."

Hermione swallowed hard, her heart sinking as the joy of seeing them was replaced by the reminder of the situation she was in. She hadn't wanted to discuss this with them—not now, not when she had just reunited with her closest friends.

But Harry and Ginny were looking at her expectantly, and there was no avoiding it.

"I... I don't belong to Draco," Hermione said quickly, though the words felt hollow even to her. "It's not like that."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, her eyes sharp. "Isn't it? You're living with him. He's marrying Astoria Greengrass, and yet here you are, drinking alone at a pub."

Hermione's throat tightened. "It's complicated."

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance, but before they could press her further, Hermione continued, her voice shaky. "Draco's... he's not like his father. He's different now. I know what you're thinking, but he's not cruel, not like Lucius. He's... I don't know how to explain it."

Harry leaned forward, his eyes serious. "Hermione, we've heard about the wedding. What are his intentions with you?"

Hermione bit her lip, her heart aching as she thought about how to explain. "The wedding... it's an arranged marriage. He doesn't want it. Neither of us do. But there's something... something between us." Her voice lowered as she admitted the truth. "There's this pull, this connection. I can't explain it, but it's real."

At the mention of the pull, Harry and Ginny exchanged another look—this one filled with understanding. Hermione noticed it immediately.

"What? What is it?" she asked, her voice rising with urgency.

Ginny placed a hand on Hermione's arm, her expression serious. "That pull you're talking about... it's not just some random connection, Hermione. It's something ancient. Something powerful."

Harry nodded in agreement. "It's called the Pureblood Pull. It happens when a pureblood and their soulmate—especially if one is a Muggle-born—are bound together. It's rare, but when it happens... it's binding. Magical."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Soulmate?" she whispered, her heart racing. "But... but if that's true..."

Ginny's expression grew even more serious. "There's something else you need to know, Hermione. If you're tied to Draco by this pull, and you don't get married or... consummate the bond, it can have dire consequences."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean?"

"If the bond isn't completed," Harry explained, his voice heavy with concern, "you'll get magic sick. It starts slowly, but eventually, it'll drain your magic. And if you don't take action... you'll waste away."

Hermione stared at them in disbelief, her mind reeling from the weight of what they had just told her. The pull between her and Draco wasn't just a feeling—it was something much more serious, something that could change everything.

She was tied to Draco in ways she hadn't even realized. And now, she was faced with an impossible choice.