Shadows of Redemption

Chapter 8: Unspoken Strategies

Harriet's POV

The weight of our predicament pressed on us both, and I could see how it aged Draco-how it twisted his features into something worn, almost haunted. His hands were clasped tightly together, his knuckles white from the strain. Even in my Kneazle form, I could feel the heavy burden he carried, one that had been thrust upon him by forces beyond his control.

We sat in silence, a fragile, uneasy truce between us. I wanted desperately to help him, to come up with a plan that would save us both from the darkness closing in around us. But my options were limited. My only advantage was my magic in this form, a Kneazle's ability to sense danger and protect itself. That might prove useful, but it was a far cry from the wand work I was accustomed to.

Draco stood and paced the room, his mind clearly racing. "We have to act normal," he said, more to himself than to me. "If anyone suspects anything, it's over. I can't have Father or the others thinking I'm... soft."

His voice cracked on the last word, and I knew how deeply that expectation cut into him. The idea of living up to his father's cold, unyielding standards was something I couldn't fully understand, but I had witnessed enough to know the toll it took.

I let out a low, thoughtful purr, trying to ground him. He turned to look at me, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks," he murmured. "I don't know why you're still willing to help me, but I'm glad you are."

I met his gaze, and in that moment, something changed between us. It wasn't a grand, sweeping revelation, but rather a small, quiet understanding. We were in this together, whether we liked it or not.

Draco exhaled and moved to the window, peering out at the Malfoy gardens. "We need to be prepared," he said, his voice steadier now. "If things go wrong, you'll have to escape on your own. I can't protect you if..." He trailed off, his jaw clenching. "If they find out about you, they'll use you to get to me, and I won't let that happen."

My heart sank at the thought of being separated. As much as it pained me to admit, I had started to rely on Draco in a way I never thought possible. If I had to leave him behind, I didn't know if I could.

But I knew he was right. If it came down to it, I would have to run.

Draco's POV

Potter-Harriet-watched me from the bed, her Kneazle eyes far too knowing. I couldn't believe how quickly everything had changed. Just weeks ago, I would have celebrated the idea of Potter being trapped in my house, helpless and at my mercy. Now, I found myself trying to protect her, fighting to come up with a way to keep us both safe.

How had it come to this?

The soft rustling of wings drew my attention to the window. An owl, dark and sleek, landed on the sill, a letter clutched in its talons. I stiffened, dread curling in my stomach. There was only one group of people who used owls like that, and I knew it meant another order from the Death Eaters.

The owl tapped at the glass, and I hesitated. Harriet tensed, her fur bristling. We exchanged a long, silent look, both of us understanding what this might mean.

With a heavy heart, I opened the window, and the owl hopped inside, dropping the letter onto my desk before taking off into the night. I closed the window and picked up the letter, my hands shaking. The Dark Mark stamped into the wax seal made my chest tighten, and I almost didn't want to open it.

But I had no choice.

I broke the seal and unfolded the parchment, my eyes scanning the words. My pulse pounded in my ears, each sentence hitting me like a physical blow.

"Draco,
The Dark Lord requires an update on your preparations for Hogwarts. Your role is critical, and failure will not be tolerated. You are expected to report your progress at the next meeting. Do not disappoint us."

I dropped the letter, and it fluttered to the floor like a dead thing. My stomach twisted with fear, and I turned to Harriet, who had crept closer, her eyes wide with worry.

"They want... an update," I whispered. "They're expecting me to do something. Something terrible."

Harriet leapt onto the desk, her paws landing on the letter. She pawed at it, her gaze flicking back to me with an urgency that made my throat close. She was trying to tell me something, but I was too overwhelmed to understand.

I sank into the chair, my head in my hands. "What am I supposed to do, Potter?" I choked out. "I can't betray them. I can't betray my family. But I can't... I can't do what they're asking. Not to Hogwarts. Not to-" I broke off, my voice cracking.

Harriet stepped closer, pressing her small, warm body against my arm. It was a gesture of comfort, but it also felt like a reminder: I wasn't completely alone. We would have to find a way out of this, even if it felt impossible.

I lifted my head, meeting her eyes. "Maybe," I said, my voice steadier, "there's a way to delay them. To make them think I'm following orders while we figure something out. We need time, and I have to make them believe I'm still loyal."

Her ears perked up, and I could see the spark of hope in her gaze. It wasn't a perfect plan-it wasn't even a good plan-but it was better than doing nothing.

"Alright," I whispered, determination hardening inside me. "We'll fight this together, Potter. Somehow."

She bumped her head against my arm in agreement, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a small sliver of hope.