The Runes
My mother doesn’t explain anything to me, per usual. I just return to Hogwarts with a million new questions, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling that I need to check on Draco. I don’t know who I can talk to about the events of the weekend, because something tells me this is much bigger and darker than I realize.
When Hannah asks me why I seem so stressed, I tell her I’m worried for exams. I feel terrible lying to my friend, but I don’t want to rope her into whatever is going on. At least, not without knowing what it means.
As I sit in the library, frantically pouring through textbooks trying to piece together what it all means, I look up and see a relaxed looking Hermione wandering the shelves. Yes! If anyone can help, it’s her, right?
“Hermione!” I whisper shout, catching her attention. She looks startled for a moment before her face settles into a smile.
“Oh, Y/n, it’s you. Hey.”
“Can I ask your help for something? I really need a second opinion here.”
She gives me a curious look, before shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve got time. Sure.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and guide her to a corner in the back of the library where no one can hear us. She seems wary at this but I don’t have time to justify it. “Okay, something super weird happened between me and… someone else. But first, what are these symbols?”
I take off my ring and hand it to her, and she studies it gingerly. “Runes,” she says simply. “I’m not sure exactly what they mean but I could probably find out. Why?”
“Well…” I trail off, looking around. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but just listen okay?”
She nods her head and I tell her about the events of the duel, minus the fact that it was off of school grounds and involved a certain slytherin boy. Her eyes go wide as she listens.
“Wait… so you got challenged to a duel, but when you fired a spell that would’ve made contact a force field appeared? And these runes showed up on your ring, and you think your opponent had the same happen to their necklace?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. And on top of that, ever since it happened, I feel, like… weirdly protective of him.”
“So you dueled a boy?” she asks, catching my slip up.
I wince. Damn it. “Yes, okay, it was a boy, but that’s not the point! What does it all mean?”
She furrows her brow, contemplating. Eventually she snaps her fingers and stands up. “I think I read about something like this before. I just have to find the book. Give me a minute.” She saunters off between the rows of books before coming back over to me. Hermione returns with a large, thick book titled ‘Ancient Magical Bonds and Blood Rites.’ She sets it on the table, flipping carefully through the aged pages. Her eyes scan the text with her usual determination, and I watch her, trying to keep my nerves in check.
“Here,” she finally says, pointing to a section. “Look at this.”
I lean in, reading the title: Blood Pacts: An Unbreakable Bond of Magic and Will. My breath catches as I take in the words beneath it.
“This is rare magic,” Hermione begins, her voice low and serious. “Blood Pacts are used to bind two witches or wizards together, usually for protection or alliance. They’re different from Unbreakable Vows—this isn’t a promise, it’s a connection at the deepest magical level. Both parties have to willingly participate, and their blood is magically bound, creating an invisible shield of protection between them. If one person tries to harm the other, the magic stops it.”
I swallow hard. “So… that shield during the duel…”
She nods. “It makes sense now. You cast a spell that would have hit your opponent, but the pact’s magic intervened. It’s designed to prevent harm between the two people bound by it.”
I sit back, trying to process it. “But I don’t remember agreeing to any pact.”
Hermione’s brow furrows. “That’s the strange part. These rituals are complicated. They usually involve both parties making a conscious choice—often in a ceremony. If this pact exists and you didn’t willingly enter it, then either someone else arranged it, or…” she trails off, her eyes widening.
“Or what?”
She hesitates. “Or maybe it was done when you were very young. There are stories of families making blood pacts on behalf of their children to ensure loyalty or alliances later in life. The runes on your ring—this could be a symbol of that bond.”
The room feels colder. “So my family… and his… they did this to us?”
“It’s possible,” she says gently. “But if they did, it means they have a plan for you both. Blood Pacts aren’t made lightly. There’s something they’re expecting you to do—together.”
The weight of her words sinks in. I think back to the duel, to Draco’s quiet defiance, to the way Lucius and my mother had watched us. This was bigger than a simple test of my magic—it was a test of the bond.
“What happens if the bond is broken?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Hermione’s eyes darken. “It can’t be broken. Not without… consequences. If one of you tries to defy the pact, the magic could rebound in dangerous ways.”
A cold knot forms in my stomach. This isn’t just some ancient spell or family tradition. It’s a trap, and Draco and I are caught in it.
“This is way deeper than an arranged marriage,” I mutter to myself, rubbing my temples.
“Hm?” Hermione asks, looking up. She tilts her head curiously. “Seriously, Y/n, who is this about?”
I look at her anxiously, chewing on my lip. “If I tell you, you’re not allowed to freak out.”
She narrows her eyes, regarding me carefully. Her voice comes out like a warning. “Y/n…”
“You have to promise! Remember, I had no part in this.”
She swallows a groan and finally says “Fine,” through gritted teeth.
“It’s… Malfoy,” I whisper, bracing myself for her to fly off the handle.
“What?” she whisper shouts breathlessly, looking around to see if anyone was listening. “Y/n, his family is involved with-”
“Death eaters, I know.”
She shuts her mouth, looking shocked. “Who told you?”
“He did,” I reply simply, my voice much softer than I intended. “Look, I know how you feel about him and what you all must think, but believe me, he’s not like his parents. He’s gone out of his way and put himself in danger multiple times to help me. He can actually be… really sweet, sometimes.”
“Sweet?” she scoffs, looking at me with disgust. “Then you must not know him at all.”
“And you do?” I ask sharply, feeling a strange need to defend him. “Honestly, ‘Mione, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Y/n, he’s been terrible to me and my best friends for years. He constantly calls us names, slurs, makes fun of Ron for his financial situation and Harry for not having parents. And you’re sitting here telling me he’s sweet sometimes? Seriously, I didn’t know Hufflepuffs were so gullible.”
“Well, I didn’t expect a Gryffindor to be so close minded. Do you trust me? At all? Because I swear I would never lie to you, ever. And I only told you because I was hoping you’d realize that it’s not all black and white, and everybody has some good inside of them. Malfoy has so much going on at home that nobody knows about, and he lashes out. I’m not excusing his behavior, or telling you that you’re wrong for feeling how you do, I’m just saying he’s changed. Seriously, when was the last time he actually said anything rude to any of you?”
Hermione stares at me with blank shock on her face. My cheeks heat up from frustration and she swallows hard. “Not since last year.”
“Exactly,” I reply. “You don’t know everything going on with him this year. He doesn’t have time to even think about other people, yet he goes out of his way to help and take care of me. A completely bad or evil person wouldn’t do that.”
She looks at me thoughtfully and sighs.
Hermione takes a deep breath, her expression softening as she processes everything I’ve said. “I… I didn’t know,” she admits quietly, avoiding my gaze. “It’s just hard to believe, you know? After everything…”
“I know,” I say gently. “I’m not asking you to forgive him, just… trust me on this. There’s more to him than what he shows the world.”
Hermione nods slowly, chewing on her lip. “So, this bond… this Blood Pact. What does it mean for you both? Are you—are you in danger?”
I shrug, the weight of it all settling heavily on my shoulders. “I don’t know. That’s what scares me. Our families clearly have some twisted plan, but Malfoy doesn’t seem to want any part of it either. We’re stuck in this… this invisible cage, and I don’t know how to get out.”
Hermione’s eyes flash with determination. “We’ll figure it out. If there’s a way to protect you—both of you—we’ll find it. I don’t care how ancient or powerful this magic is, there has to be something we can do.”
Her words spark a tiny flicker of hope in my chest. “Thank you, Hermione. I know how much you probably hate this, but I didn’t know who else to go to. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She offers a small smile. “You’d probably be a lot less stressed. Come on, let’s keep looking. There might be something else in here.”
As she dives back into the book, I sit back, letting my mind wander to Draco. The way he stood in front of me, refusing to actually cast a harmful spell, the haunted look in his eyes. There’s so much more to this than I understand—but whatever it is, I know I can’t face it alone. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t have to.
“Y/n?” Hermione’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Look at this.” She points to a passage in the book. “It says here that Blood Pacts not only prevent harm between the bound individuals, but… they also share their magic. If one of you is hurt, the other might feel it. And… it can create a protective pull—like an instinct—to shield each other from danger.”
I feel a shiver run through me. “So that’s why I’ve felt so… protective of him. It’s not just me. It’s the pact.”
“Probably why you’re so defensive over him now,” she mutters.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is, it just makes my skin crawl now to hear someone speak badly of him.”
Hermione nods. “It’s fine. It’s… a powerful connection, Y/n. One that’s hard to break—or resist.” She looks at me, her eyes filled with concern. “Be careful. If your families are counting on this bond for something… they might not care who gets hurt in the process.”
I swallow hard, the reality of our situation crashing down on me. “Then we need to figure out their plan before it’s too late.”
Hermione grimaces, as if making up her mind about something undesirable.
“What?”
“I think we need to tell Harry.”
“What? Are you mental? He’ll flip!” I respond desperately in hushed tones.
Hermione sighs, her expression torn. “I know, but think about it, y/n. Harry has faced things like this before. He knows more about Dark magic than anyone our age, and he might recognize the signs of whatever your families are planning.”
I shake my head, my heart pounding. “Hermione, you don’t understand. If he finds out I’m connected to Malfoy, he won’t just be worried—he’ll be furious. He sees everything in black and white when it comes to the him.”
“I get it,” she says softly, placing a reassuring hand on mine. “But we can’t do this alone. There’s too much at stake. And if something happens… Harry would never forgive us for keeping it from him.”
I bite my lip, the weight of her words sinking in. She’s right, but the thought of facing Harry’s reaction makes my stomach twist. “What if he doesn’t understand? What if he thinks I’m… compromised?”
Hermione’s eyes soften. “Then we make him understand. We show him that you’re still you, and that this bond doesn’t define you. Harry’s stubborn, but he’s not heartless. He’ll listen.”
I twist the ring on my finger anxiously, weighing the decision. I know she’s right, but I’m terrified Harry will hate me, or worse—try to hurt Draco. Merlin, Draco would probably try to kill him, too.
At the end of the day, though, I don’t think I have much of a choice. I sigh, smoothing out my hair. “Alright, fine, we can tell him. Just… not yet, okay? I need to talk to Draco first.”
Confusion flicks over her face quickly, but disappears just as fast. “Since when did you start calling him Draco?”
My face goes red, and my eyes go wide. “I—uh, now, I guess?”
She hums in response, looking at me like a problem she’s trying to solve. I panic, wondering if she’s figured out how much I actually care for him.
But that’s just the pact, right?
“Okay then. Let’s get to work,” she says with one last suspicious look, and my shoulders relax.
Time to do some digging.