Bound by Fate

Prologue

The skies above Britain were forever dark now, shrouded in a thick, unrelenting haze that blotted out the stars. It had been that way since the night the Dark Lord claimed victory, his reign plunging the world into an endless twilight. Shadows moved in every corner, whispers of fear echoing through the empty streets where hope had once flourished. The wizarding world had crumbled, leaving only ruins of what once was, and those who survived lived in the shadow of fear, subjugated under the iron fist of the Death Eaters.

Draco Malfoy stood at the window of Malfoy Manor, his gaze fixed on the dead landscape that stretched before him. The weight of his choices pressed heavily on his chest, suffocating him as he watched the world he once knew wither away. He had done everything expected of him, followed every command, and upheld the Malfoy name with cold precision. But as he looked out into the darkness, he wondered when he had begun to feel so hollow inside.

The Manor was silent, a tomb for the living. Lucius Malfoy had perished in the final battle, his death a twisted mockery of the power he had so desperately sought. Narcissa retreated into herself, a ghostly presence that drifted through the halls, her once sharp eyes now dull and lifeless. And Draco—Draco was left to navigate the treacherous path of power alone.

Power. It was what he had been raised to seek, to crave. Yet now, it left him feeling nothing but a cold emptiness. He had everything his father had wanted for him: status, control, and the respect of those who feared him. But as he looked at his reflection in the window, he wondered if it was worth the price he had paid—the pieces of his soul he had sacrificed along the way.

A movement in the courtyard caught his eye, pulling him from his thoughts. His breath hitched as he saw her—Hermione Granger—her form illuminated by the dim glow of torches. She was bound in chains, her eyes downcast, her spirit seemingly broken. His father's final act of cruelty had been to purchase her, a trophy of war, to serve the Malfoy family. But Draco saw something in her that his father never did: a defiance that refused to be extinguished, a fire that still flickered despite everything.

Draco's heart clenched as he watched her. He knew he should look away, continue down the path set before him. Yet he couldn't. There was something about her—something that made him question everything he had been taught, everything he had become.

As the cold wind howled through the Manor's empty corridors, Draco turned away from the window, a new resolve hardening within him. He wasn't sure when it had happened, when the darkness around him had started to feel suffocating rather than empowering. But one thing was clear: Hermione Granger had stirred something deep within him—something that he could no longer ignore.

In a world ruled by darkness, where love was a weakness and power was everything, Draco Malfoy would have to make a choice. One that could change the course of history, or destroy them both.