Bind Unbroken
The first week back in the newly restored eighth-year tower was filled with an odd mix of excitement and tension. The shared dorms, the mingling of houses, the palpable sense of change in the air—it was a new beginning, yet some things felt eerily familiar.As Hermione settled into her corner of the common room, working through her notes for Transfiguration, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the castle itself was holding its breath. She glanced up to see Draco Malfoy across the room, his eyes fixed on his parchment as he scribbled something furiously. His posture was casual, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the calm exterior he tried to project. He was trying, and failing, to keep his distance.“Granger,” Draco said, suddenly breaking the silence, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re the one who always insists on being organized, aren’t you?”Hermione blinked, slightly thrown off by his casual approach. “I suppose so. What are you getting at, Malfoy?”He nodded toward the stack of papers in front of her. “I thought you’d have your study plan written out by now. Considering it’s the first week, I expected you’d be ahead of the rest of us.”Hermione smirked. “I don’t need a study plan. I just… work well under pressure.”Draco raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Instead, he flipped through the pages of his book, seemingly engrossed in something. But Hermione noticed the way his eyes flickered over to her notes from time to time, as if trying to glean some secret from them. There was a quiet curiosity behind his movements, but whether it was about her studies or something else, Hermione couldn’t quite decipher.Across the room, Ginny and Harry were sitting together, an easy silence between them. Ginny leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder as he ran his fingers through her hair, his other hand flipping through a Defense Against the Dark Arts book. Though their relationship had been through its share of ups and downs, it was clear to anyone who knew them that they were in a new, stronger place. The unspoken bond between them was more solid than it had ever been before.Ron, for his part, was having a slightly less smooth time navigating the odd dynamic of the eighth-year dormitory. He had taken it upon himself to sit near Pansy, as if hoping to break the tension that had lingered between them. It wasn’t that he hated her—at least, he didn’t want to—but the years of animosity and rivalry were hard to shake.Pansy, though, seemed unfazed. She had been quieter than usual, more observant, and less inclined to engage in her usual biting remarks. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, as if weighing everyone and everything around her. But every now and then, when Ron’s gaze lingered too long on her, she’d catch his eyes with a challenge, her lips curling into something like an amused smirk.“Can I help you with something, Weasley?” Pansy asked, her voice dripping with casual mockery.Ron blinked, clearly not expecting her to address him so directly. “Uh, no. Just… wondering if you’d like to play a game of Exploding Snap or something.”Her eyebrow arched as she leaned back into her chair. “A game? Is that your idea of small talk, Weasley?”Ron felt the familiar irritation rise in his chest. “Look, I’m just trying to make things less awkward. You know, since we’re… roommates.”Pansy studied him for a long moment, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly. “Making things less awkward is your job now? How brave.” She didn’t sound particularly convinced, but there was something different aboutj the way she looked at him—something less defensive, almost curious.“Maybe,” Ron said, the edge in his voice betraying his nerves. “I can’t say I’m thrilled about this whole house unity idea either, but… well, it’s not like we have much of a choice, do we?”She didn’t reply immediately, but when she did, her voice was quieter, less mocking. “No, I suppose not. But maybe that’s for the best.”Ron frowned. There was something in her tone—something unexpected. And for the first time, he wondered if there was more to Pansy Parkinson than the arrogant Slytherin he’d once known.
~The Next Day~
Between the early mornings filled with classes and the long evenings spent in the common room, Hermione, Ginny, and Pansy were slowly adjusting to their new lives together. As different as their pairing seemed on paper, there was something about the way their energies meshed—sometimes with friction, sometimes with harmony—that made each day feel like a step toward something larger.
But there was also something in the air that none of them could quite explain, a pull toward the unknown, a sensation that magic itself was subtly shifting, even in a place as familiar as Hogwarts.
It was with that in mind that the trio found themselves making their way through the hushed halls of the library one afternoon, the weight of the unknown pressing down on their shoulders like a soft but insistent weight. They had agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to visit the Restricted Section. Hermione hadn’t been convinced at first—her sensible side always hesitant to break the rules—but Ginny’s enthusiasm and Pansy’s more daring nature had overruled her.
Now, as they stood before the towering shelves of forbidden knowledge, Hermione couldn’t help but feel both excited and nervous. There was an eerie stillness in the air, as if the very walls of the library were watching them, waiting for something to happen. The usual musty smell of parchment and ink seemed heavier here, saturated with centuries of untold secrets.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” Hermione muttered under her breath, though there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes. She hesitated just outside the gates of the Restricted Section.
Ginny flashed her a grin, her voice playful. “Come on, Granger. It’s only a book. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Pansy, her lips curling into a small, mischievous smile, added, “We’re eighth-years now. Besides, I’m sure McGonagall would love to hear about how we found something magical in here. If we get caught, that is.”
Hermione shot her a look, but it was too late. Ginny had already cast the unlocking charm, and the large, iron gates creaked open, the rusty hinges protesting the intrusion. With a glance at the entrance to the main part of the library, they stepped inside.
The Restricted Section was darker than the rest of the library. The shelves were taller, the bookshelves seeming to stretch into the gloom, with thick, leather-bound volumes crammed in every available space. The air felt different here, a cool draft brushing over the back of Hermione’s neck as she walked deeper into the shadows. The smell of old, musty paper lingered, but there was something else beneath it—something older, more powerful. The walls seemed to hum with the faintest vibration, like the castle itself was alive with ancient magic.
“Where do we even start?” Ginny asked, eyes scanning the row after row of intimidating tomes.
Hermione took a deep breath, trying to focus her mind. “The last time I was in here, I found some really dangerous books. We should stick to something that doesn’t sound like it could blow us up…”
Pansy, already bored with Hermione’s cautiousness, walked off down one of the aisles. “You’re no fun, Granger. Come on, live a little.” She pulled a large tome off the shelf, flipping it open to some indecipherable text. “Not all of us are so… cautious.”
As Pansy scanned her book, Hermione’s attention was drawn to a corner of the room, where a faint glow seemed to emanate from behind a row of books. She followed the pull, her curiosity piquing, and soon found herself standing before a dusty, old shelf near the back wall. There, nestled among other volumes was a book that immediately caught her attention. Unlike the others, its cover wasn’t faded or worn with age—it gleamed in the dim light, an iridescent shimmer to it, as though it had been untouched by time.
Her fingers brushed against the spine, and the moment they made contact, the book seemed to hum beneath her fingertips, a soft pulse of energy running through her hand. Surprised, Hermione pulled back, her heart rate quickening.
“What is it?” Ginny’s voice came from behind her, and Pansy, hearing the slight alarm in Hermione’s tone, joined them.
“It’s…” Hermione hesitated. The book seemed to draw her in, calling her to open it, but part of her warned against it. “It’s nothing. Just an old book, I think.”
Ginny, ever the adventurous one, was already reaching for the book before Hermione could stop her. “Let’s see what it is,” she said, her voice low but filled with determination.
As her fingers brushed the cover, the book sprang open. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as the pages flipped on their own, stopping abruptly at a page that was neither worn nor fragile—almost as if it had been waiting for them. On the page was an intricate, shimmering spell written in flowing script, its words as ancient as the castle itself.
The words were unfamiliar, but the magic in the air seemed to grow heavier. A cold chill swept through the room, and the three girls instinctively stepped closer together, as if their combined presence was somehow enough to steady the air around them.
Ginny leaned in, her eyes scanning the strange, glowing script. “What’s this?”
Hermione squinted at the text, but her words were lost in a haze of magic. “I… I’m not sure. It’s like—”
Ginny’s voice was firm as she read aloud. “The Power of Three will set us free. Three born to be one, bound by magic, and destiny. Together they shall rise, together they shall fight, with hearts entwined and powers alight.”
The words echoed in the air as they seemed to shimmer and glow with an ethereal light. The ancient script dissolved into a brilliant blue, crackling with energy.
At that exact moment, Hermione, Ginny, and Pansy felt it—a sudden surge of magic, as if an invisible force were pulling them together. Their hands, almost instinctively, reached out and touched the pages. As they did, the light from the book intensified, bathing them in a blinding glow.
The magic swirled around them, enveloping their senses, their thoughts, their very beings. It was as if the castle itself was alive with energy, a rush of ancient power awakening deep within its walls. Hermione’s heart hammered in her chest as the light pressed against her skin, her body humming with something unfamiliar—something powerful.
The light was so bright that they had to close their eyes. Then, in an instant, it was gone. The glow faded from the book, leaving only the faintest afterglow behind, and the library seemed to return to its normal quiet state. The air felt heavier somehow, laden with the memory of the magic that had just been unleashed.
The three girls stood there, wide-eyed and breathless, each of them trying to process what had just happened.
“What… what was that?” Pansy’s voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes darting nervously around the room as if the walls themselves had witnessed something forbidden.
Ginny was the first to speak. “I… I don’t know. But it felt…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Real,” Hermione finished, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind. “Whatever that was, it wasn’t just a spell. It’s… something else.”
Pansy frowned, looking at the book, now closed and still once again. “Do you think it… chose us?” she asked, her tone still incredulous.
Hermione stared at the book for a long moment, as if waiting for it to answer. “It’s more than that. We… we were meant to find it. But I don’t understand. What does this mean?”
Before any of them could speak again, the faintest whisper of wind blew through the open window, carrying with it the scent of fresh rain. The atmosphere seemed to shift in a way none of them could explain, but one thing was clear: they had just been marked by something far older and more powerful than any of them could comprehend.
And that, for better or worse, was only the beginning.