Chapter 24
The world was changing.
And for the first time in a long time, magic wasn’t something to be feared.
It was something to be felt.
More and more Eidolons were appearing. Not just for those bonded through ancient rites or preordained connections—but for everyone. Witches and wizards who had never before seen their Eidolons in anything more than fleeting dreams now walked side by side with them, the air humming with newfound energy. The magical community was caught in an uproar—half in awe, half in chaos—but there was no denying one thing.
This was right.
People weren’t just bonded with their Eidolons anymore. They were whole.
I could see it in the way people moved, in the lightness of their steps, in the way magic wove between wizard and Eidolon as if it had always been meant to be this way. As if something had finally clicked into place after centuries of being just out of reach.
For the first time in history, people understood what they were missing.
Even I hadn’t realized the weight of absence until Solara had stepped into the physical world, warm and radiant, her golden feathers shimmering in the light of the manor’s sunlit halls. She had always been there, inside of me, lingering in my magic, tethered to my soul. But to feel her—to touch her—to know she was no longer just an extension of something unseen, but real, solid, and breathing beside me…
It was like breathing fresh air after drowning for years.
She was me. I was her.
An extension of thought, of feeling.
Of love.
Draco had tried to act indifferent about it, but I had seen the way he looked at Tenebris, the way his fingers twitched when the shadowy beast prowled at his side in perfect sync with his movements. It was effortless—as if they had always been one and the same.
Which, in truth, they had.
He hadn’t said it out loud, but I knew what he was feeling—because I was feeling it too.
It was intoxicating.
Eidolons weren’t just creatures that existed beside us. They were an extension of our magic, our emotions, our very essence. They reacted to our thoughts before we even spoke them, moved in sync with our bodies before we even stepped forward. There was no commanding them, no need for spoken words—because they already knew.
They felt what we felt.
When I was nervous, Solara’s wings would glow brighter, pressing the warmth of her presence against my magic, a silent I’m here. You are not alone.
When Draco was irritated, I had seen Tenebris’s tail flick with agitation, a mirror of his master’s mood.
When I had woken up tangled in Draco’s arms that morning, still dazed from the night before, Solara had curled at my feet, her golden warmth seeping into my bones in a way that felt like the safest thing in the world.
It was connection on a level I had never experienced before.
And I wasn’t the only one who felt it.
The streets of Diagon Alley were alive with magic in a way they had never been before. Wizards and witches walked alongside their Eidolons, some perched on shoulders, others padding gracefully at their sides. A young girl twirled through the alley, her tiny Eidolon—a sleek, silvery fox—bounding after her, its tail flicking playfully as it mirrored her movements.
At the entrance to Flourish & Blotts, an elderly wizard leaned on his cane, his falcon-like Eidolon perched solemnly on his shoulder, eyes sharp and knowing. I watched as the bird nudged the old man’s ear and, as if understanding, the wizard sighed and adjusted his grip, as if the simple gesture had reminded him of who he was.
At the apothecary, a mother carried a sleeping toddler in her arms, a small, feathery creature wrapped around the child’s wrist like a bracelet, pulsing gently with soothing magic. The mother stroked the tiny Eidolon absentmindedly as she browsed for potions, as if the motion was second nature, as if she had always had this piece of her child beside her.
Laughter rang through the air, people marveled at one another’s companions, and the cobbled streets glowed with the weight of something new.
Something beautiful.
Even the newspapers couldn’t decide how to report it.
“Eidolons Becoming Physical—A New Age of Magic?”
“Ancient Bonds or Dangerous Anomalies?”
“The Magic We Never Knew We Were Missing—What It Means for the Future”
Some feared it. Some questioned it.
But most?
Most embraced it.
Because who would want to go back?
Who would want to return to the feeling of being incomplete after finally knowing what it was like to be whole?
At Malfoy Manor, our days were no longer just about research and debate. They were filled with presence. Solara would perch near me as I read, occasionally stretching her wings in a soft glow of warmth whenever I got frustrated. Tenebris would watch Draco with that sharp, unblinking stare, lounging lazily on the desk like a shadow brought to life, shifting only when Draco’s temper flared.
They weren’t just there—they were with us.
And I was terrified.
Terrified that we still didn’t know why this was happening. Terrified that this was something fragile, something that could be taken away.
Because I couldn’t go back.
I wouldn’t survive it.
One night, as I stood by the large windows of the manor, staring out at the moonlit gardens below, Solara pressed against my back, her warmth seeping through my nightgown.
I turned my head slightly, my fingers running absently through her soft feathers. “This is forever, isn’t it?” I whispered.
She didn’t answer.
Not in words.
But the way she existed, the way her presence curled around my magic and settled into the hollow spaces of my soul, was answer enough.
Draco’s voice broke through the quiet.
“If it isn’t,” he murmured from the doorway, “I’d like to see someone try to undo it.”
I turned, finding him leaning against the frame, arms crossed, Tenebris prowling at his feet.
He was watching me in that way he did now—like I was something worth looking at.
I swallowed. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”
Draco exhaled, stepping forward. His fingers ghosted over Tenebris’s feathers, and the beast rumbled in response, molten eyes flashing.
“I don’t even remember what it was like before,” he admitted.
My breath hitched. Because neither did I.
Magic had always been a part of us. But this?
This was something more.
Something bigger.
We had been the first.
The first to bring our Eidolons fully into this world. The first to step into something unknown, something bigger than either of us. And now, the world was following.
Because something had awakened.
Something ancient.
Something that had been waiting.
Solara let out a soft trill from her perch above my chair, the sound warm and soothing. Across the room, Tenebris flicked his tail, watching Draco with his usual lazy intensity. They had settled now, adjusting to their new, permanent forms with an ease that left me breathless. They were more than creatures. More than magic.
They were us.
I reached out, running my fingers gently through Solara’s golden feathers. Warmth. Light. Radiance.
Draco sighed, rubbing his temples. “I still don’t understand why this is happening.”
I glanced at him. “I think the better question is: why did it stop happening in the first place?”
His gaze snapped to mine.
Because that was the real question, wasn’t it?
Why had Eidolons—real, physical, tangible Eidolons—disappeared from history? Why had magic been reduced to something less? Had it been stolen? Had something been broken?
And why now?
Why had they come back through us?
I swallowed. “I think we triggered something ancient, Draco.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “I think you’re right.”
I hesitated before adding, “And I don’t think it can be undone.”
A long silence stretched between us.
Draco finally exhaled and leaned back against the fireplace, arms crossed over his chest. “Good,” he muttered. “Because I’m not giving him up.”
My breath hitched.
He wasn’t looking at me, but I felt the weight of his words settle between us.
He wasn’t just talking about Tenebris.
And maybe... maybe I wasn’t just thinking about Solara, either.
My throat tightened.
I forced myself to speak, to push past the sudden rush of feeling curling in my chest. “Then we need to figure out what comes next.”
Draco huffed. “Next?” He gestured vaguely toward the chaos beyond the manor walls. “The entire magical community is still trying to figure out how to get through today, Granger.”
I knew he was right.
People were overwhelmed, caught between awe and fear, their entire understanding of magic shifting overnight.
But still—
There was something beautiful about it.
I had seen it on the faces of strangers, on the way people reached for their Eidolons without thinking. The way they felt.
And that was what mattered.
That was why we couldn’t let this fall apart.
I straightened, my resolve hardening. “We should meet with Kingsley again. And the others. We need to help people—help them understand what this means, what it means for all of us.”
Draco groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You just love making things difficult, don’t you?”
I smirked. “You knew what you were getting into.”
He shot me a look, but there was something warmer beneath the exasperation. Something softer.
Something real.
I cleared my throat, looking back at Solara, at Tenebris. “One thing is certain.”
Draco arched a brow. “Oh?”
I met his gaze, and for the first time since this all started, I wasn’t afraid.
“For the first time in centuries,” I whispered, running my fingers over Solara’s feathers, feeling everything in my magic settle into something steady, something right.
“We are finally whole again.”