Bound by Love

Chapter 18: The Beginning of the End

Harriet's POV

The final days at Hogwarts felt like the calm before a storm. Every moment dragged under the weight of what we had decided—leaving before Voldemort struck, choosing to find safety together rather than stay and fight. I was still struggling with it, with the guilt that clung to me, whispering that I was abandoning my friends, my family. But the world was no longer black and white. I couldn't keep pretending that fighting was the only way forward.

Sitting in the Gryffindor common room with Hermione and Ron that evening, I felt a heaviness settle over me. We were sharing a quiet moment, but there was an unspoken tension. Hermione had been watching me closely all week, her sharp eyes seeing more than I let on. And Ron—he hadn't been the same since I told them about Draco. The distance between us felt insurmountable, and it hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Hermione broke the silence first, her tone soft but firm. "Harry, are you sure you're doing the right thing?"

I looked at her, my heart heavy. "I don't know," I admitted. "But I can't keep doing this, Hermione. Sneaking around, pretending everything's fine when it's not. We're leaving. Draco and I... we've decided it's the only way to stay safe."

Her brow furrowed, concern etched into her expression. "But you can't just leave—there's a war coming. You're—"

"I know," I interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest. "I know what's coming. But this is something I have to do. I've been fighting my whole life, Hermione. This is my chance to live for something other than the war."

Hermione didn't reply right away, but I could see her mind racing behind her brown eyes. She didn't agree, but she also knew better than to push me any further.

Ron, however, wasn't as reserved. He hadn't spoken much since the day I told them about Draco, but tonight, he couldn't hold it in anymore. "So that's it, then? You're just leaving us to clean up the mess?"

The bitterness in his voice hit me hard. "It's not like that, Ron," I said softly. "This isn't about abandoning anyone. I just—"

"It sure feels like it," he muttered, crossing his arms. "Running off with Malfoy, leaving us to fight this war on our own."

I flinched at his words, but I held my ground. "I'm not running away. I'm making a choice, for me, for once. I've given up enough already, and Draco—he needs me."

Ron scoffed but didn't push the argument any further. I could see the hurt in his eyes, and it tore at me. I knew he didn't understand, and maybe he never would.

Hermione, sensing the tension rising, placed a hand on Ron's arm, calming him before the conversation could spiral out of control. "Harry's made her decision, Ron," she said quietly. "And we need to support her, even if we don't understand it."

Ron muttered something under his breath but didn't argue again.

I let out a slow breath, grateful for Hermione's intervention. The conversation had been hard, but it was necessary. And now, at least, the truth was out in the open.

But something nagged at me—an ominous feeling I couldn't shake. Something was coming. Something more than the inevitable fight with my friends. A weight settled in my chest as I got ready for bed, that sense of impending doom growing with every passing minute.

Draco's POV

The plan was in motion. We'd leave before the end of the week, slipping away in the dead of night. I had my inheritance set aside, along with wards that would keep us hidden for a while. But none of it made me feel better.

Standing in the Slytherin common room, staring into the fire, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were making a mistake. Walking away now, before the fight had even begun, felt wrong. But I couldn't deny that Harriet needed this. She'd been fighting for so long, carrying the weight of the wizarding world on her shoulders, and it wasn't fair. She deserved a life outside of the war, and I was determined to give her that.

When Harriet arrived, her face tired but resolute, I knew she had told them. "How did it go?" I asked, already guessing the answer.

She sighed, dropping into the chair beside me. "Hermione's worried, and Ron... he's angry. But they know. It's done."

I nodded, though the tension in my chest didn't ease. "It's not going to be easy, you know. Leaving like this."

"I know," she whispered, looking into the fire. "But it's what we have to do."

I reached over, taking her hand in mine. "We'll get through this. We'll figure it out."

For a moment, we sat in silence, the fire crackling softly beside us. The world outside was preparing for war, but here, in this small bubble of time, it was just the two of us. And for now, that was enough.

But before either of us could speak, the ground beneath us trembled.

I sat up straight, the unease from earlier flaring into something more intense. Harriet looked at me, her eyes wide. "What was that?"

Before I could respond, a distant explosion shook the castle. My heart leapt into my throat.

"They're here," Harriet whispered, already rising to her feet. The panic in her voice echoed the fear growing in my chest.

We rushed out of the common room, joining the throngs of students and staff who were pouring into the corridors. Spells and shouts echoed through the air, the unmistakable sound of battle reverberating through the stone walls.

"Voldemort's attacking," I said, grabbing Harriet's hand. "We need to get out of here."

Harriet shook her head, her eyes hard with determination. "We can't leave now. Not yet."

Harriet's POV

The explosions grew louder, more violent, shaking the very foundation of the castle. Students ran in every direction, and the screams of those caught in the crossfire filled the air. Spells lit up the night, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the battle intensified.

This was it. The war we had tried to avoid, the fight that had always felt inevitable. Voldemort had come for us.

"Harriet, we have to go!" Draco shouted, pulling me toward a side corridor, his voice tight with fear. But I couldn't move. Not yet.

I looked out at the chaos, the flashes of spells, the bodies lying still on the ground. My friends were out there. My family. I couldn't run.

"I can't just leave them," I said, my voice trembling. "Hermione, Ron... they're out there."

Draco's eyes softened, his hand gripping mine tightly. "I know, but if we stay, we'll be killed. We need to get to safety."

I nodded, but the guilt gnawed at me. My heart felt like it was being torn in two—between my duty to my friends and the future Draco and I had promised each other. But just as I was about to follow him, a familiar voice echoed from behind.

"Harry!"

I turned to see Hermione running toward us, her wand raised. "You can't leave now! Voldemort's here, and we need all the help we can get!"

"I wasn't planning on it," I replied, stepping forward, the weight of my responsibility settling heavily on my shoulders. "Draco—get out. Go. I'll find you."

"No," Draco said firmly, stepping closer to me. "We're doing this together."

Hermione's eyes flickered with surprise but softened in understanding. "Then we fight together."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. The three of us—me, Hermione, and Draco—stood shoulder to shoulder as the battle raged on around us. There was no more time for decisions. No more time for second-guessing.

The final battle had begun.