Chapter 9
Malfoy Manor was unusually quiet.
It had been this way for years—since the war, the trials, the mudslinging of my father’s name, and my mother’s isolation from the outside world.
But today, as I walked into the grand halls with Granger beside me, the silence was different.
Heavier.
As if the manor itself was watching.
I did not have time to dwell on it. I snapped my fingers, and a house elf appeared, bowing so low that its nose almost touched the marble floor.
“Master Malfoy,” it squealed.
“Bring the others,” I instructed. “I want the entire house staff to search the library.” The older the text, the better. “Anything about Primordial Bonds, Eidolons, or ancient magical fusions.”
The elf paused. “Master, some books are—”
“I don’t care how cursed they are,” I interrupted. “Find them.”
The elf flinched and vanished with a sharp crack.
Granger gave an exasperated sigh behind me. “You could have asked nicely.”
I turned to face her, barely containing an eyeroll. “Do you really believe politeness will help us discover long-forgotten magic? Or would you prefer that we sit around waiting for the Ministry to resolve this for us?”
She scowled, but did not argue. Instead, she put her bag down and rubbed her temples. “Fine. However, this does not change the fact that we have no idea what we’re dealing with.
I exhaled sharply and ran a hand through my hair. “That is why we are here. We solve this together before it decides to figure us out first.”
The weight of those words sat between us.
Because we both knew it was correct.
Granger crossed her arms and watched me closely. “Then let’s put it to the test. We have had enough of theorizing. If we can summon them again, we might be able to figure out what is wrong.”
I did not argue. She was correct. It had been weeks since our Eidolons first appeared, mystical beings bound to us in ways that no known magic could fully explain. But summoning them had been inconsistent. They sometimes arrived without warning, responding to an unspoken call. Other times, no matter how much magic we used in the spell, nothing happened.
The dueling chamber beneath the manor had been unused for many years. My father had built it to house his so-called ‘private training sessions’—which, of course, included illegal duels, Death Eater meetings, and other things I’d rather not consider. But now, stripped of its history, it was simply a room. The cold, cavernous space was filled with the echo of our footsteps.
Granger took a position across from me, wand in hand, her expression unreadable. I could sense a charged energy between us, something unspoken but powerful, humming beneath the surface.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s begin.”
I did not wait. I flicked my wand, directing a controlled burst of energy towards her. She easily deflected it, responding with a quick incantation. I dodged, feeling the air crackle as her spell passed by my shoulder.
Then I reached for it. That deeper, more primordial magic. The same power that had created my Eidolon before.
For a moment, I felt something stir—a shadowy presence at the edge of my mind, flickering just out of reach. I tightened my grip on the wand and pushed harder, summoning it forward.
Nothing.
Granger furrowed his brow. “It’s not working.”
I gritted my teeth. “No kidding.”
She tried again, and I could see the intense focus in her eyes as she summoned her own Eidolon. A faint shimmer appeared in the air beside her, but quickly vanished, like mist burning away in the sunlight.
“Damn it,” she mumbled.
We tried it again. And again. But no matter what we did, or how much magic we put into the summoning, the Eidolons would not fully manifest.
Something wasn’t right.
I took a step back, breathing heavily. My wand arm ached from the effort, and frustration rose in my chest. “This isn’t correct. When they first appeared, things were not like this.”
Granger wiped the sweat off her brow. “I understand. “But why?”
I didn’t respond.
Because I already had the answer.
The first time it happened, we weren’t casting spells or channeling magic with our wands. We weren’t fighting, strategizing, or trying to summon anything at all.
We had been standing at the altar.
She had worn white. I had worn black. Magic erupted around us, raw and uncontrollable, the moment our lips met—an obligatory kiss, a formality of the vows. We didn’t know what was going on because it was so sudden and unexpected. Our Eidolons had appeared by then, the result of something other than a spell.
A bond.
I swallowed hard, forcing the memory back. I was absolutely not going to tell her. If she knew, or even suspected, that our Eidolons were somehow connected to that moment, she’d never let it go.
And I couldn’t risk it.
Not when I didn’t understand what it meant.
I muttered, “I need air,” and turned away before she could press me further.
I exited the chamber, climbing the stairs two at a time until I was out into the cold evening air. The manor grounds stretched before me, dark and vast. A sharp wind blew against my skin, but I barely felt it.
The gardens had once been pristine. Nature was reclaiming them, with vines curling over stone pathways and wildflowers sprouting between the cracks of forgotten fountains.
Fitting.
I exhaled and watched my breath curl in the moonlight.
The wind howled through the twisting paths of the manor grounds, tugging at the edges of my robes as I stood near the old stone fountain. The water had long since gone stagnant, collecting fallen leaves and remnants of a world that had moved on.
I let out a slow breath, my fingers curling around the marble edge as I tried to make sense of what I had just realized.
The Eidolons hadn’t come when we fought. They hadn’t responded to our magic, no matter how much power we poured into the spells.
They had come when we were bound.
Not by incantations or dueling magic. By something older. Deeper.
The wedding.
The kiss.
I gritted my teeth, my grip tightening on the stone.
This wasn’t something I could ignore. But how the hell was I supposed to tell Granger? That our Eidolons—beings of untamed, ancient magic—weren’t tied to our spells, our power, or even our intent.
They were tied to us.
To this bond.
To whatever had happened the moment that golden light wrapped around our hands, the moment our magic had fused in a way no one had ever seen before.
And worse—what if we had just broken something by trying to summon them?
The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine.
Behind me, the sound of footsteps echoed across the stone.
I didn’t turn.
“You’re avoiding me,” Hermione said, her voice level but sharp.
I exhaled through my nose. “What was your first clue?”
She came to stand beside me, arms crossed, her gaze flickering between me and the overgrown gardens. The moonlight cast her features in silver, making her look more like a relic of magic itself than the insufferable know-it-all I had spent my school years tormenting.
She didn’t press me right away.
Which was worse.
Because it meant she knew I was hiding something.
I scoffed. “Don’t look at me like that, Granger.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to unravel me.”
Her lips pursed, like she wanted to argue but knew I wasn’t wrong. “Then stop acting like you have all the answers and tell me what’s going on.”
I turned to face her fully, my jaw tight. “You really want to know?”
She didn’t even blink. “Yes.”
I let out a low breath, feeling the tension coil in my muscles as my hands clenched at my sides. “The Eidolons didn’t come when we fought. They didn’t come when we tried summoning them with magic. And do you know what that means?”
She remained silent, her throat visibly bobbing, her fingers tightly curling around her own wrist.
I took a step closer.
“It means they aren’t reacting to magic.” Another step. “They’re reacting to us.”
Her brows furrowed, and for the first time, doubt flickered in her eyes. “That’s not—”
“They came at the altar, Granger.” My voice was low, dangerous, the words slicing through the cold like a knife. “Not when we cast spells. Not when we dueled. The moment we were bound.”
She inhaled sharply.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
Then—
“No.”
I arched an eyebrow. “No?”
Her expression twisted, like she was fighting the truth with every ounce of logic in her body. “That—that doesn’t make sense. Bonds don’t create magic. They enhance it, maybe, but they don’t—”
“Then explain why our Eidolons manifested in full form in front of an entire room of Ministry officials,” I snapped. “Explain why they reacted like they had been waiting for us.”
Granger looked away, her fingers gripping the fabric of her robes.
She couldn’t explain it.
Neither of us could.
But it didn’t stop her from hating the conclusion we were drawing.
I ran a hand down my face, exhaustion bleeding into my bones. “Look, Granger. We can keep fighting this, or we can accept that whatever happened to us at that altar was bigger than the Ministry, bigger than the Revenants, bigger than anything we understand.”
She swallowed, lifting her gaze to mine. “So what are you saying? That we need to… what? Act like an actual couple to control this?”
My stomach twisted at the implication, but I didn’t let it show.
Instead, I forced a smirk, letting my voice drawl just enough to grate on her nerves.
“Don’t worry, Granger. I won’t be writing you love letters anytime soon.”
Her expression flattened immediately. “Malfoy, I swear to Merlin—”
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “No, but in all seriousness, we need to test it.”
Her lips pressed together. “Test it how?”
I hesitated, feeling my pulse quicken a little too fast for my liking. “The Eidolons reacted to closeness. To connection.” I exhaled. “So we have to figure out what triggers them.”
She nodded slowly. “And if it’s not magic…”
“Then it’s something worse. Intimacy, emotional closeness.”
The heavy silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken tension and anticipation.
Then, finally, she let out a sharp breath and rolled her shoulders back.
“Fine.”
I blinked. “Fine?”
She lifted her chin. “We figure it out. No matter what it takes.”
Hermione faced me, her eyes filled with challenge, frustration, and something else—something she wasn’t quite ready to name. My heart thundered in my chest, a relentless drumbeat of disbelief at the impending moment. Before I could question it, she rushed forward, grabbed the front of my robes, and pressed her lips against mine in a hard, almost punishing kiss.
It was rushed, forceful, and completely devoid of hesitation.
Absolutely nothing happened.
There is no surge of magic. There’s no crackling energy. No eidolons.
Hermione pulled back, brow furrowed, as if she, too, was expecting a reaction from the universe. Her grip on my robes lingered before she let go, her breathing a little faster than usual.
I tilted my head, giving her a slow smirk. “Well. “That was underwhelming.”
Her eyes met mine, forming a sharp glare as she straightened. “Excuse me?”
I shrugged, feigning boredom. “I was expecting at least a flicker of magic. Maybe there’s some static in the air. But I suppose even ancient forces can distinguish between a genuine kiss and—” I gestured vaguely, “—whatever that was.”
She exclaimed angrily, her hands flying to her hips. “Oh, I apologize, Malfoy. I didn’t realize you were an expert on magical kiss theory.”
“More of a practical connoisseur, really,” I remarked, tapping my chin. “Clearly, you need a lesson.”
Before she could respond with a sharp remark, I stepped closer, closing the gap between us in a way that left no room for debate.
Her breath caught, but she did not move away.
I reached up, running my fingers along the edge of her jaw before tilting her chin slightly. It wasn’t about proving a point anymore. It was not about winning. It was about discovering the truth.
I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers with a gentleness that contrasted with how we usually interacted. A slow, patient kiss—neither demanding nor rushed, but deliberate. I could feel her lips soften against mine and her fingers lightly brush against my wrist as she responded.
And then—
The air around us crackled with electric energy, setting the atmosphere abuzz with anticipation.
A brilliant explosion of light and shadow erupted from where we stood, colliding in a vortex of raw, untethered magic. The energy surged through the chamber, rattling the very foundations of Malfoy Manor as our Eidolons appeared in full force.
Tenebris—my Eidolon, a beast of obsidian and void—landed with a thunderous impact, his great wings folding inward and black flames flickering along his massive form, giving me barely enough time to brace myself. His eyes, dark pools of unending fire, focused on me like a predator assessing its prey.
At the same time, Solara emerged as a blinding force of golden radiance. Fire trailed from her wings as she hovered just above Hermione, the air around her shimmering with unbearable heat.
For a fleeting moment, neither Eidolon moved.
Then they clashed.
Solara’s wings spread wide, sending a shockwave of light magic flying outward. Tenebris roared in response, his own energy spiraling upward, dark tendrils twisting and consuming the space between them. The resulting collision sent a surge of magic through the room, shattering the stone floor beneath us in jagged cracks.
Hermione stumbled back, but I grabbed her wrist and caught her before she fell.
“Granger,” I muttered, struggling to breathe under the weight of the magic crashing around us, “tell me this was part of your plan.”
She gave me an incredulous stare. “My plan?” “You were the one who wanted to put the bloody bond to the test!”
Before I could respond, a low, unfamiliar voice echoed throughout the chamber.
“Bounded by fate and divided by choice. Will you forge or fall?
The voice did not come from Solara or Tenebris.
It arrived from everywhere.
My pulse pounded. I had no idea what we had just triggered.
Hermione, still holding my wrist, slowly turned to face me. Her brown eyes were wide, reflecting the swirling energy of her Eidolon within them. “That wasn’t you?”
I swallowed hard. “No.”
The magic intensified. The air vibrated like a living thing, ancient whispers resonating through the energy storm in a language I couldn’t comprehend. My skin prickled with something that felt dangerously familiar—as if some part of my blood, my magic, already knew what it was.
Everything abruptly came to a halt.
The magic, the whispers, the energy—all vanished in an instant, like a candle blown out.
The chamber became deathly silent.
Solara and Tenebris were gone.
Not dismissed. Not fading.
Just… gone.
Hermione’s grip around me tightened. “What the hell just happened?”
I didn’t respond. For the first time in my life, I had no idea.