The Pact

Draco’s birthday sneaks up on us fast. I don’t tell many people this, but I love birthdays. I love finding cute little gifts and wrapping them up, but more than that, I love making the whole day an event.

Lucius and Narcissa are already up when I get to the kitchen, waiting for Dobby to prep Draco’s favorite breakfast foods and arrange them on a tray for me. I add a cute little card and the first of his presents from me—a brand new set of robes tucked neatly in a fancy box. I shrink it down to fit on the tray before hightailing it out of the kitchen, much to Lucius and Narcissa’s surprise that I’m up and going this early.

Truth be told, ever since I’ve fully settled in here, I’ve been sleeping great. I don’t think I’ve gotten up any earlier than eight or nine most mornings because I’m actually sleeping through the night. I have the occasional night terror, but when I do, Draco is always more than happy to let me slip into his bed and snuggle up to him for comfort.

When I get up the stairs, balancing the tray in my hands, I wandlessly open the door and step inside Draco’s room. He’s dead out, of course, his hair a little tousled and his face flushed with sleep. I smile to myself before closing the door behind me and setting the tray on the foot of his bed.

I press a kiss to his temple and run my fingers through his hair until his eyes flutter open. He looks up at me with a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” he mumbles groggily, wiping his eyes.

“Good morning,” I giggle, kissing the tip of his nose. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Draco chuckles lightly before taking my hand in his, holding it close to his chest. “Is that today? I nearly forgot.”

“Yeah, right,” I tease, squeezing his hand. “You’ve been doing a countdown for a week.”

He grins, eyes still heavy with sleep. “Maybe. But I didn’t expect this.”

I motion toward the tray at the foot of the bed with a little flourish. “Ta-da! Birthday breakfast in bed. All your favorites, courtesy of me and Dobby.”

Draco sits up slowly, propping the pillows behind him. His eyes light up when he sees the spread—fluffy scrambled eggs, buttery toast, crisp bacon, a little bowl of strawberries, and a perfectly brewed cup of tea.

“You did all this?” he asks, clearly touched.

“Well, I had help. But I arranged the strawberries into a heart, so I think that counts for something.”

He laughs and reaches over to tug me closer until I’m perched on the edge of the bed. “It counts for everything.”

I lean down and steal a piece of his toast, earning a playful glare. “Hey! Birthday boy, remember?” he teases, snatching it back and taking a dramatic bite.

“Fine, fine,” I say with a smirk. “I’ll let you have your moment.”

His eyes flick to the small, wrapped box on the tray. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands curiously before letting me enlarge it. “And what’s this?”

“Just the first gift of many,” I say, feigning nonchalance.

He opens it carefully, peeling the paper like it’s sacred. When he lifts the lid, his eyebrows shoot up. “These are gorgeous.”

The robes are a rich charcoal with silver trim, subtly enchanted to shimmer slightly in the light. They’re charmed to keep him cool in the summer heat, which is perfect, although he doesn’t know why yet. Regardless, they're elegant and unmistakably him.

“I figured you could use something special for today,” I say. “Something that says, ‘Yes, I’m the birthday prince. Yes, I’m effortlessly perfect.’”

Draco laughs, holding the fabric up and admiring it. “You know me too well. These are incredible.”

I lean in and whisper with a cheeky grin, “Put them on when you’re done eating. I have plans for you today.”

He gives me a suspicious, amused look. “Plans?”

“Secret plans,” I say, stealing a strawberry. “But you’re going to need to look your best.”

“Oh, Merlin,” he mutters with a smile, already clearly loving the mystery. “Should I be excited or terrified?”

“Both,” I wink. “Definitely both.”

He takes an experimental bite of his food before lighting up, clearly pleased. I give him a brief hug before standing up and moving towards the door. “I’ll be getting ready in my room. Come get me when you’re done, love.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, munching away at his breakfast.

I roll my eyes affectionately before slipping out and closing the door behind me, stepping into my room next door. I put myself together deliberately, wearing green because he likes the way it looks on me, and leaving my hair down, because he thinks it compliments my face shape.

How that boy isn’t more interested in fashion, I’ll never know.

When I do my makeup, I put on a transfer proof lipstick—I have a feeling there will be a fair amount of kisses today, and although he doesn’t mind the lipstick marks, I prefer to leave the birthday boy looking perfect.

By the time I’m slipping on my shoes, I hear a soft knock at the door. My heart does a little skip—it’s stupid, really, considering I just saw him, but something about birthday Draco has me extra shy.

“Come in,” I call, pretending to fuss with the hem of my dress even though I’m very much ready.

The door opens and in he walks, looking completely unfair.

The new robes fit like they were tailored just for him (because they were, obviously), hugging his shoulders just right and falling perfectly to the floor in elegant folds. But what gets me—really gets me—is his hair. It’s soft, loose, and just a little wavy, like he towel-dried it and ran his fingers through a few times but couldn’t be bothered to add gel.

He looks… effortless. And devastating. And very kissable.

“You didn’t gel your hair,” I say, trying to sound casual, but I’m already melting.

Draco smirks, doing a slow twirl like he’s on some kind of fashion runway. “You like?”

I nod, a little too quickly. “I love.”

He chuckles, stepping in and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear with those annoyingly graceful fingers. “Figured I’d give you the natural version of me. Birthday privileges and all.”

“Mm,” I murmur, eyes trailing up and down. “I’m definitely feeling very privileged right now.”

He leans in just a touch, murmuring, “Is the lipstick safe to ruin?”

“Not yet,” I say with a grin, patting his chest and stepping back, just barely resisting the urge to yank him in for a kiss. “I worked too hard on this look. You’ll get your moment later.”

He groans dramatically. “You’re cruel.”

“And yet, you love me.”

He smirks. “Unfortunately for me, I do.”

I grab his hand and squeeze it. “Ready to find out what I’ve got planned for you?”

“Lead the way, birthday fairy.”

“Oh no,” I grin. “I’m not the fairy today. You are the main character.”

He laughs again, and just like that, we’re off—his hand warm in mine, and the whole day ahead of us.

Our first stop is downstairs, of course, so his parents can fuss over him. Lucius, dare I say it, looks proud when Draco steps through the threshold, and Narcissa—well, she looks like she might just cry.

“Oh, darling,” she breathes, clasping her hands together like she’s witnessing the unveiling of a priceless painting. “You look wonderful.”

Draco shifts a little under the attention, but he’s clearly pleased. “Y/n got me the robes.”

Narcissa immediately turns to me with a soft smile, her eyes warm. “You have excellent taste, dear. Truly.”

I grin. “He makes it easy.”

Lucius nods once in quiet approval, sipping from a crystal glass. “A fine choice. You look very distinguished, son.”

Draco raises an eyebrow at me like Did he just compliment me in front of witnesses?

I give his hand a secret squeeze.

Dobby appears with a tray of tea and what I’m pretty sure are Draco’s favorite lemon biscuits. Narcissa insists we sit down for a moment, and Draco indulges her, letting her smooth down the shoulders of his robes like he’s still twelve. He barely bats her away.

Lucius watches us with an amused, knowing expression. “So. Where are you taking him?”

“Can’t say,” I reply airily, sipping my tea. “Birthday surprise.”

Draco gives me a playful side-eye. “This better not be something sentimental.”

I fake a gasp. “I would never.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, taking a biscuit. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Narcissa just laughs softly behind her cup. “Let her spoil you, darling. It’s good for you.”

He leans closer to me, bumping his knee against mine. “She already does.”

And I pretend not to melt for the hundredth time this morning.

“I’m still shocked you didn’t want a party,” Lucius comments, eyeing Draco like he’ll take it back any moment.

Draco just shakes his head. “I’ve got everyone I need right here. I see my friends enough anyway—maybe I’m getting boring, but I just don’t feel like some extravagant celebration this year.”

Lucius raises a brow, clearly not expecting that answer, while Narcissa smiles like her son just won the Order of Merlin for Emotional Maturity.

“Well,” she says, dabbing delicately at the corner of her mouth with a napkin, “I think that’s rather sweet.”

Draco shrugs, half-embarrassed, half-proud. “It’s not like I never want a party. Just… not today.”

I glance over at him, heart tugging a little. “You just wanted something quiet and cozy.”

He gives me a sideways look, soft and a bit amused. “I wanted you. The rest is just a bonus.”

Lucius shifts like that might be a bit too much emotion before breakfast, but Narcissa beams, already mentally writing us into her future family album.

“Well,” I say quickly, clearing my throat and standing, “on that note—we do have plans. So if the birthday boy is properly tea-ed and biscuit-ed, I’d like to whisk him away now.”

Draco stands with an exaggerated sigh, but he’s smiling. “Guess I’m at your mercy today.”

“You always are,” I say sweetly, linking my arm through his. “Come on, mystery awaits.”

As we head toward the door, I hear Narcissa whisper something fond to Lucius about how he looks happy, and I tuck that little moment away for later.

“Seriously, where are we going?” Draco chuckles, letting me drag him along.

“To destination number one,” I grin, pulling him outside to the manor grounds.

He looks at me warily. “You’re going to disapparate us, aren’t you?”

I just hum in response, making sure we’re touching before flourishing my wrist—landing us right in the middle of wizarding Paris.

We land with a soft pop right on a cobblestone street lined with ornate storefronts and charming enchanted lanterns that float gently above the alley. The scent of roasted chestnuts and expensive perfume lingers in the air.

Draco blinks, adjusting to the shift. “Is this…?”

“Wizarding Paris,” I confirm, grinning at him like I’ve just handed him the moon. “You’re spending the day in my favorite shopping district.”

His eyes light up despite the skeptical smirk tugging at his lips. “You brought me here to go shopping?”

I loop my arm through his again and start walking us toward the first boutique, a glossy black storefront with enchanted mirrors in the windows. “I brought you here to buy whatever you want.”

He laughs in disbelief. “You’re letting me go on a birthday shopping spree?”

“Mmhmm,” I say, pushing open the door with a chime. “Cologne, robes, rare potion ingredients, obscure magical books, fancy shoes, ridiculous sweets—you name it, it’s yours.”

“You are very dangerous,” he mutters as we step inside. “And I am very tempted to take full advantage.”

“You’d better,” I reply. “Otherwise I’ll be forced to pick things out for you.”

That gets him moving.

The first store is a boutique perfumery, with shelves full of beautifully bottled colognes and custom enchantments. Draco tests a few scents, finally settling on one that smells like smoky cedar, green fig, and something dark and spicy I can’t quite place—but it’s very him.

“You’re going to be insufferable in that,” I tell him as he dabs it onto his wrist.

“Is that a challenge?” he asks, eyes sparkling.

Next, we stop by a specialty apothecary where he stocks up on rare ingredients he’s only ever read about, looking far too pleased for someone surrounded by jars of shriveled roots and glowing extracts. Then it’s off to a charming little bookshop where he gets distracted by a first edition Potions manual and a dark leather journal with silver-edged pages that I insist he has to have.

We hit a shoe store where he picks out a pair of sleek boots that make him look like he walked off the cover of a wizarding fashion magazine, and a robe shop where he finds a midnight-blue set with subtle star-shaped embroidery in the lining.

And yes, I take him to my favorite sweets shop, where we both gorge ourselves on sample after sample until we’re giggling like children and he insists on buying the ridiculous marshmallow-dragons I keep pretending I’m too mature for.

Somewhere along the way, he slips his hand into mine again, this time without saying a word. Just holds it. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe it is.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this role reversal,” he chuckles, dragging me into a quidditch supply store. “I’m supposed to be spoiling you.”

“Not today,” I say simply, leading him towards one of the darker corners of the shop. “Come here, I wanna show you something.”

I haven’t been to this shop in years, but I’ll always be familiar with it—Aurélien went through a quidditch phase second year, and of course, Geneviève was perfectly content with buying him the most high end equipment she could get her hands on.

Draco looks at me, slightly confused, before his eyes go wide. “Is this—?”

I grin. “Let’s make you a custom broom.”

His jaw actually drops, and for once, Draco Malfoy is speechless.

He turns slowly to take it all in—the polished display of broom handles in varying woods and finishes, the wall of enchanted fittings, the glowing catalog of enhancement charms floating midair like a constellation.

“Custom,” he echoes, still stunned. “You’re letting me design a broom from scratch?”

I nod, bouncing on my heels just a little. “Anything you want. Speed, agility, cushioning, anti-sway stabilizers, built-in warming charms for cold weather—you name it.”

Draco blinks at me, then back at the wall like it might vanish if he stares too hard. “This place doesn’t even advertise. You have to know someone.”

I smirk. “Fortunately, you know me.”

He looks back at me, his expression warm and just a little disbelieving. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re going to look so cool on your new broom,” I reply, nudging him toward the workbench.

Once we’re with the broom designer—a tall, bespectacled man with an extremely judgmental quill—Draco launches into the details with quiet excitement. He chooses a dark walnut handle, polished until it gleams, with silver trim along the end and a grip shaped exactly to the contours of his hand. He opts for hybrid charms: the agility of a Comet, the speed of a Firebolt, the turning radius of a Wimbourne Swiftstick.

He surprises me by requesting subtle wing carvings near the footrests, nothing dramatic, just barely visible when the light catches right.

“And,” the designer says, raising an eyebrow, “would you like to personalize it?”

Draco glances at me, then nods. “Initials. D.M.”

They’ll be etched into the handle in fine silver filigree, just below the grip.

“It’ll be delivered to Malfoy Manor in five days,” the designer says, giving the two of us a once-over like we’re chaos incarnate. “Try not to charm it into flames before then.”

As we step out into the sunlight again, Draco shakes his head, utterly delighted. “You’re spoiling me rotten.”

“You deserve it,” I shrug.

He stops walking for a second, pulling me gently to a halt with him. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

I tilt my head, softening. “Then it’s long overdue.”

He just stares at me, and I see that look in his eyes—the one he gets when he’s about to kiss me like he means it.

So I pull him between two buildings and I let him.

What I was half expecting to be desperate and frantic isn’t at all—it’s soft, reverent, and agonizingly sweet. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and we melt into each other, like perfectly fitting puzzle pieces.

“I love you,” he mumbles between kisses, never letting up. “So much.”

I giggle against his mouth, pulling away for a moment. “I love you more.”

“Absolutely not,” he muses before lifting me off the ground in a bear hug. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”

He spins me once for good measure, like we’re in some kind of rom-com that ends in Paris—and honestly, maybe we are. When he finally sets me down, I adjust his collar and kiss the tip of his nose.

“Alright, birthday boy,” I say, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. “One more stop.”

His brows lift. “There’s more?”

I start walking, tugging him along by the hand. “Of course there’s more. I have a flair for the dramatic, remember?”

He follows with an amused shake of his head. “Let me guess—you’re wanting to get something for yourself?”

I give him a look over my shoulder. “Maybe any other day in Paris, but no. Today’s visit is all about you.”

He arches a skeptical brow as we turn down the street. “You’re taking me to a jewelry store?”

“Not just any jewelry store,” I correct, stepping up to the velvet-draped entrance of Le Bijou Caché. The polished sign above the door gleams softly, golden in the afternoon light. “The jewelry store.”

The moment we step inside, the familiar scent of jasmine and sandalwood greets us like an old friend. The lighting is warm, the atmosphere decadently intimate. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead like floating starlight, and enchanted cases glow subtly beneath velvet-lined displays.

“You just wanted to see Florian,” he teases, nudging me in the side.

I giggle. “Not quite. It’s a bonus, yes, but he’s the only one I trust when it comes to this.”

Draco lets out a soft whistle. “Every time I walk in here, I feel like I’m about to be scolded for breathing too loudly.”

“Florian does get a little tense around you,” I admit with a grin. “But he’s warming up.”

Draco gives me a look. “Are you sure this isn’t just an excuse to get another necklace?”

I shake my head, then tug him to the far left, where the glass case is notably empty. “Nope. This time… you’re getting something.”

He looks down at the empty display, confused. “There’s nothing—”

“It’s custom,” I say quietly. “Like the broom. And it’s about time we get you your wedding band.”

His head jerks up, eyes wide. “Wait—what?”

“You got me an engagement ring,” I say simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Now it’s my turn.”

He stares at me, completely speechless for the second time today. His mouth opens, closes, then opens again—but nothing comes out.

I gently pull him closer to the design table, where swatches of metal and enchanted gems lie waiting. “You don’t have to wear it now, obviously,” I say with a teasing smile. “But I want you to have it. Something that’s yours. Something that says you’re mine, too.”

Draco swallows hard. “I already am.”

“I know,” I whisper. “But now you’ll have proof.”

He doesn’t cry—but he does look like he might.

When Florian finally appears, dressed in his finest purple robes, he beams. “There you are, ma fille. I’ve been waiting for you all morning.”

I chuckle, nudging Draco forward. “Had to get him here first, Florian. It’s great to see you.”

Florian chuckles and wraps me up in a hug before looking at Draco, hands clasped together. “I was informed of your presence but not your intentions today. How can I help you?”

“I’d like to design a ring,” Draco says, voice a little rough. “Something subtle. Timeless. And maybe with a charm that warms up when she’s nearby.”

Florian’s eyes sparkle. “You may proceed.”

And just like that, we’re sitting side by side at the design table, fingers intertwined as Draco feels each individual metal, studies the colors, and contemplates getting it engraved.

“Oh, Monsieur—I’d like you to encrust this into the band, if you can.”

I hand him a small diamond, cut a bit jaggedly, and Draco arches a brow.

“What’s that?”

I smile sheepishly. “Did your mum ever tell you she was glad you asked her to help with my engagement ring?”

“Yes,” he says hesitantly, clearly unsure of where I’m headed with this.

“Well, there’s a reason. This—” I start, holding the diamond up for him to examine, “—is the same diamond she had the jewelers cut mine from.”

Draco blinks. “I didn’t know she gave them the diamond. I thought they had it in store.”

Florian takes the diamond from me gingerly, examining it with his wand. He smirks. “How curious. This is enchanted, non?”

I don’t say anything for a moment, I just look at Draco, giving him a moment to piece things together. Slowly, his eyes light up in recognition. “Is that…?”

“Mhm,” I smile knowingly. “The original diamond our parents used to make—”

“Your ring and my pendant,” he finishes for me, seemingly breathless. “But how?”

I shrug. “Your mum kept it in the Malfoy vaults for safekeeping when my parent’s storefront got investigated for dark artifacts when we were babies. I guess when she heard you wanted to get me a ring, she went and got it.”

“It’s laced with protective magic,” Draco breathes, saying it half to Florian and half to himself. “That’s why we were safe during the battle.”

“That and the bond,” I correct him, slipping my hand in his. “I just figured—if we can’t have the bond, at least we can have this.”

Draco doesn’t say anything for a long moment. He just looks at the diamond in Florian’s hand, like it’s some long-lost treasure that’s finally come home.

Then he looks at me.

And the expression on his face is one I don’t think I’ll ever forget—like he’s seeing all the months that brought us here, all the strange twists of fate, and he’s still stunned that we somehow ended up on the same side of it.

His hand tightens slightly in mine.

“I don’t even know what to say,” he says softly, eyes still locked on mine. “You—you always do this. You always know the exact thing I didn’t know I needed.”

I nudge his shoulder with mine, trying not to get emotional. “It’s your birthday. I’m allowed to show off a little.”

He huffs a laugh, but his thumb brushes over my knuckles gently, grounding. “You’re unbelievable.”

Florian clears his throat—quietly, respectfully. “Then we shall make it unforgettable.”

He carefully places the diamond on a velvet square, already beginning to levitate different band designs around us. “I can embed this directly into the metal. The magic will weave into the enchantment. It will respond to her touch—when she’s near, when she says your name, when she’s thinking about you too hard—”

“That’ll be all the time, then,” Draco mutters, sending me a smirk.

I roll my eyes, biting back a grin. “Arrogant and adorable. Dangerous combo.”

He leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek before turning back to Florian, who has already summoned several sketches and combinations of metals—elegant white gold, warm platinum, even a sleek band of obsidian-infused silver that shimmers slightly in the light.

Draco points to it. “That one.”

“Obsidian silver,” Florian nods, clearly approving. “Strong, understated, very rare. Much like our monsieur, no?”

Draco flushes slightly, but recovers fast. “I’ll take it. And… can you engrave something inside?”

“Of course,” Florian says, levitating a quill to hover over parchment. “What shall it say?”

Draco looks at me again, eyes searching mine for a second before he murmurs, “Tout ce que je suis.”

I blink, my breath catching in my throat. All that I am. An old French saying, with then ending implied: is yours.

Florian smiles. “A beautiful choice.”

I squeeze Draco’s hand, blinking fast. “You’re lucky I used transfer-proof makeup.”

He laughs, pulling me into a hug. “We’ll see how long that holds up.”

And as Florian begins the early enchantments and measurements, I rest my head on Draco’s shoulder, watching the ring come to life.

One more piece of us—etched into history, stitched with magic, and impossibly, undeniably ours.

~

After taking Draco out for an extravagant lunch at my favorite restaurant in the country (which he rather enjoyed, by the way), we head back to the manor, all of his new gifts shrunk down to fit inside my bag.

We land on the front lawn with the familiar crack of apparition, and the doors swing open for us automatically as usual. Draco and I are both surprised when we hear lively music coming from the dining room.

We glance at each other, both arching an eyebrow.

“Did you plan something else?” he asks, already suspicious.

I shake my head. “Nope. This one’s a surprise for both of us.”

Draco slowly pushes the door open, and we step inside to find the dining room transformed.

The long table is draped in emerald and silver silk, soft candlelight flickering off crystal goblets and gleaming silverware. Floating candles hover overhead, casting a warm golden glow over the whole room. A decadent birthday cake sits proudly in the center—white chocolate and raspberry, Draco’s favorite—with flickering candles already lit.

And then there’s Lucius and Narcissa, standing near the fireplace, each holding a glass of champagne. They’re dressed to the nines—Lucius in a perfectly tailored black suit with a green pocket square, Narcissa in a pale silver gown with delicate embroidery that catches the light.

“Happy birthday, darling,” Narcissa says with a soft smile, coming over to kiss Draco on the cheek.

Lucius raises his glass slightly. “We thought we’d make the afternoon a little festive. Nothing over the top, of course. Just family.”

Draco stares for a moment, stunned, before a slow grin spreads across his face. “You did all this?”

Narcissa nods proudly. “Well, we supervised. Dobby did the actual decorating.”

As if on cue, Dobby peeks out from behind a pillar, beaming with pride and wearing a tiny green bowtie.

Draco chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “You didn’t have to.”

“But we wanted to,” Narcissa insists. “We rarely get to celebrate you like this. Let us enjoy it.”

My eyes drift to the far side of the room, where a small stack of wrapped gifts sits under a banner that reads Happy Birthday, Draco! in swirling script.

He turns to me, smiling crookedly. “You know, I thought today couldn’t get better.”

I smile back, slipping my hand into his. “It’s not over yet.”

“I see that,” he chuckles, his new ring catching the light.

“How was your outing?” Narcissa asks, guiding us into two comfortable chairs.

Draco beams. “It was amazing. Y/n showed me all these beautiful shops and boutiques in Paris and let me get whatever I wanted—did you know you could make custom brooms? I didn’t. Apparently it’s a thing there—oh, and Paris has this huge selection of potions ingredients we can’t get here, isn’t that wonderful? I’ll have to show you this little perfumery, mum, they have the most elegantly designed bottles I’ve ever seen. Oh! And we customized this.”

Draco stops his chattering to hold out his hand, letting Narcissa take a look at his wedding band. She smiles brightly. “Oh, my stars, it’s lovely.” She looks up at me. “Is it…?”

“Yes,” I nod, matching her expression. “Florian embedded the diamond into the metal. It’s officially laced with protective magic—just like mine.”

Narcissa’s eyes widen with delight, her hand coming to her chest. “Oh, how perfect,” she murmurs, looking back at Draco with a mixture of pride and joy. “I knew it was something special, but this… this is beyond.”

Lucius, who has been silently watching the exchange, clears his throat and gives Draco a half-smile. “You’ve certainly got good taste, son.”

Draco chuckles, running his thumb over the band, his gaze flickering between the two of us. “I guess I had a little help.”

“Just a little,” I tease, nudging him lightly with my shoulder.

With a fond sigh, Narcissa moves toward the table, her eyes glimmering with emotion. “Well, I think it’s time to open some gifts, yes?”

Draco grins, nodding eagerly. His hands move to the first present, a sleek black box with a silver ribbon, clearly from his father. As he undoes the ribbon and lifts the lid, his eyes catch on what’s inside.

“Upgraded quidditch gloves,” he says, barely able to keep the grin off his face. “You’ve outdone yourselves. These are the newest design, aren’t they?”

Lucius gives him a sharp nod. “I thought you might appreciate the upgrade. They should be more comfortable, a little lighter than your last ones.”

Draco practically beams, setting the gloves aside for the moment. He moves on to the next gift, a velvet pouch from Narcissa. Inside, he pulls out a set of finely crafted, custom-made cufflinks, the family crest delicately engraved on each one.

“These are beautiful,” he murmurs, running his fingers over them. “Thank you, Mum.”

Narcissa smiles softly, her voice full of warmth. “I thought they’d go perfectly with the suit I’ve had tailored for you.”

Draco holds them up, clearly excited. “I’m going to have to show these off next time we have a family dinner.”

I glance at him, my heart fluttering with affection as he continues to open the gifts. The day, filled with laughter and genuine moments, feels like it’s wrapping us all a little closer together, and I can’t help but feel that everything about this moment is exactly where it’s supposed to be.

At the last box, incredibly small, Draco opens it and looks confused. “There’s nothing inside this one.”

“Well, your last gift is a bit… unconventional,” Narcissa says lightly, motioning for Lucius to move next to her.

Lucius clears his throat, his gaze briefly meeting Narcissa’s before turning back to Draco and me. “We’ve been thinking long and hard about this,” he begins, his tone uncharacteristically gentle, as though he’s weighing each word. “And after considering the pros and cons, we’ve come to a decision.”

Draco, now thoroughly intrigued, raises an eyebrow. “What decision?”

Narcissa’s smile is soft but full of meaning as she gently pulls a small parchment from her robes. She places it in front of us. “We’ve decided… to share the ritual for the bond with you.”

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. For a moment, I can’t quite process what she’s saying, and Draco, equally stunned, stares at her in disbelief. “Wait… what?” he stammers.

Lucius nods, his gaze serious. “You deserve to understand the magic that’s been a part of our families. A part of you. It’s time for you both to have it—to recreate it. To choose your own path, together, without any more questions lingering over you.”

I glance at Draco, and we both seem to come to the same realization at the same time. It’s like the world around us stills, leaving only the sound of our heartbeats. The bond. The connection we’d been longing for, something we thought had been lost forever.

My eyes start to well up as I look at Lucius and Narcissa, who are watching us closely. “You—you’re serious?” I ask, my voice trembling. “You’d really teach us how to—how to have it?”

“Yes,” Narcissa says, her voice soft with conviction. “After everything that’s happened, we see the importance. The bond isn’t just about magic—it’s about commitment, about family, and we want you to have it. Together.”

Draco’s hand finds mine, his fingers trembling slightly as he squeezes tightly. His voice is hoarse when he speaks, filled with disbelief. “You’re… giving us this? I thought you said…?”

Lucius’s gaze softens, just the slightest hint of a smile curling his lips. “You’ve both proven yourselves. This isn’t just a gift—it’s something we’ve earned the trust to share with you.”

And just like that, the dam breaks. I can’t stop the tears from falling, relief and gratitude flooding my heart. Draco pulls me into his arms, his own eyes shining with emotion. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick. “Thank you both so much.”

“I don’t even have the words,” I murmur, my hands trembling as I cling to Draco. “This… this means everything to me.”

Narcissa reaches out, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. “You’ve always been part of this family, darling,” she says softly. “Now, you’ll be bound to each other in the deepest way possible.”

“I didn’t think this would happen,” Draco says, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought we lost it—forever.”

Lucius steps forward, his expression earnest. “You haven’t lost anything. You’ve gained more than you know.”

The room is quiet for a moment, the weight of the moment settling on us all. Then, Draco’s voice breaks the silence, soft and full of wonder. “This is it, isn’t it? This is real. The bond, it’s ours. Finally.”

“Yes,” I breathe, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. “It’s ours. All ours.”

I move to Narcissa without thinking, wrapping my arms around her. “Thank you. So much.”

Narcissa’s arms wrap around me with warmth and tenderness, and she presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “You’re welcome, darling. You truly are part of this family,” she whispers, her voice laced with the kind of affection I’ve never really known I needed.

Before anyone can protest, I turn toward Lucius, still feeling the weight of all the emotions that have been building up inside me. Without a second thought, I step forward and wrap my arms around him, giving him a tight, grateful hug.

There’s a brief, stunned silence in the room as everyone processes my bold move, and Lucius lets out a surprised yelp. “What in Merlin’s name—?” he starts, his voice caught between disbelief and mild discomfort.

I refuse to pull away, my eyes still wet with tears. “Shut up, Lucius,” I say gently but firmly, refusing to let this moment slip. “I’m thanking you, too.”

For a moment, he acts like he’s about to say something sharp, but then the tension in his shoulders slips. He lets out a gruff sigh, clearly resigned. “Hufflepuffs,” he mutters under his breath, the slightest hint of fondness creeping into his tone as he hesitantly wraps his arms around me, returning the hug.

I laugh softly, my heart lightening with each second. “You’re a softie, really,” I tease, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes.

Lucius smirks, but there’s no denying the warmth in his gaze now. “Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, though there’s no malice in his voice.

Draco watches us, amusement flickering across his face, though his eyes are still filled with tears. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he murmurs. “Lucius Malfoy, hugging someone like he’s a teddy bear.”

“Don’t start,” Lucius warns, but there’s no heat behind his words.

When I pull away, Draco immediately finds my hand, tugging me close to his side. “I can’t believe it. This is the best gift you ever could’ve given me,” he tells his parents, hand over his heart.

Narcissa smiles softly, her eyes glistening with emotion as she takes a step toward us. “We’re glad you feel that way, Draco,” she says warmly, her voice filled with a quiet kind of pride.

Lucius nods in agreement but then clears his throat, his tone turning slightly more practical. “However, there’s something we need to address. We don’t actually know how to perform the ritual ourselves.”

I freeze for a moment, my heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice faltering slightly.

Lucius exchanges a look with Narcissa before speaking again. “Dumbledore was the one who performed the ritual. We were only ever told the theory behind it, but not the actual procedure. So, unfortunately, we’re at a bit of a loss.”

A sinking feeling washes over me at first, but then, the thought hits me like a sudden, bright light. I glance at Draco, eyes wide with realization. “Wait a minute… I know someone who can do it.”

Draco furrows his brow, confused. “Who?”

I smile, a little sheepishly, realizing I’d overlooked something so obvious. “My grandmother, Catherine. She’s—well, she’s really good with dark magic, blood magic, rituals… everything. There’s no one more perfect for this.”

Narcissa’s eyes widen in surprise, and Lucius raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You’re certain she could perform the ritual?” Lucius asks, leaning forward slightly.

I nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely. She was the one who taught my mother a lot of the old magic, the magic most wizards don’t even know exists anymore. She could definitely help.”

Draco looks both relieved and amazed. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

“Me either,” I say softly, my mind drifting to memories of her helping me after the battle at the ministry. “I’m sure she’d be able to perform the ritual, no problem.”

Narcissa and Lucius exchange a glance, a flicker of hope in their eyes. Narcissa speaks first. “Then we’ll have to contact her immediately. If she can help us, then we’ll finally be able to make this official. Make it real.”

I squeeze Draco’s hand, my heart racing. “Thank you,” I whisper, a tear escaping my eye. “Thank you both for believing in us.”

Lucius looks at us for a long moment, and then, his voice low but steady, he says, “This bond… it’s more than just a ritual. It’s a promise. You two have already shown that you belong together. The magic will follow.”

I smile through my tears, grateful for the family I’ve found in them, and for the future that’s finally within reach.

~

Catherine answers immediately—literally. We’re in her estate in the Loire Valley within the hour. I’ve never been so grateful that my grandmother doesn’t leave her house.

Catherine, always impeccable in appearance, greets us at the door with a sharp, calculating look, her attentive eyes scanning us both. She’s dressed in her usual flowing black robes, her silver hair tied back neatly. Without a word, she invites us in, her voice warm yet commanding, as though nothing is out of place, even as she immediately spots the parchment in my hand.

“You’ve brought it then,” she says with a small, almost imperceptible smile, extending her hand to take the parchment. I nod and hand it over.

She unrolls it carefully, reading over the instructions with an air of practiced precision. I watch her closely, a mix of awe and anxiety bubbling up within me. Draco stands beside me, his hand gripping mine tightly, as though we’re about to dive into uncharted waters.

After a long moment of silence, Catherine looks up, her gaze unwavering. “This is quite the ritual,” she murmurs thoughtfully, her tone distant. “It is complicated and, I must warn you, slightly painful. Blood magic isn’t something to be entered into lightly.”

My heart drops a little, but I don’t let it show. I already knew it wouldn’t be easy—but I also know it’s worth it. I glance at Draco, who is watching Catherine intently, his eyes filled with determination.

“We’re sure,” I say, my voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside me. “We want this. We’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Catherine raises an eyebrow, eyeing us both carefully. “Blood magic will bind you, irrevocably. It will tie you together in a way no other magic can.” She pauses, studying us both for a beat. “It is not something to take lightly. Once you undergo the ritual, there will be no turning back.”

Draco takes a deep breath, his grip on my hand tightening. “We’re ready,” he says firmly. “We’ve been through too much to let it slip away now. If this is what it takes, then we’ll do it.”

Catherine’s gaze softens for just a moment before she nods, slowly, as though coming to a decision. “Very well. If you’re both certain, we shall proceed.”

I look at Draco, seeing the same resolve mirrored in his eyes. This is it. The moment we’ve been waiting for. The magic will finally be ours.

Catherine moves toward the hearth, lighting a fire with a simple flick of her wand. “Come,” she commands, her voice no longer cold but almost maternal. “Let us prepare.”

As we follow her to a room deep within the estate, where the ritual will take place, I feel a strange calm settle over me. I’m ready for this. No—I’ve been waiting for this.

She leads us, as I predicted, straight to the training room, as I so fondly call it. The walls and floors are humming with magic, and I can’t help but to relax as I drink it in. This place is where my magic feels most at home.

Catherine claps her hands, gesturing to the center of the room. “I’ve taken a look at the parchment you’ve provided—this ritual is not only rare, but powerful. It’s the Aeterna Vincula Sanguinis ritual—eternal chains of blood.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. It definitely sounds dark—not that I’m unused to it by now, but it never gets less intimidating.

Catherine begins to draw runes in a precise circle on the floor with silver chalk that shimmers faintly as it touches the ground. Each symbol hums with a quiet intensity, resonating with the natural magic in the room. When she finishes, she gestures for us to step into the center of the circle.

“Stand facing each other,” she instructs. “This ritual will require equal sacrifice—equal intent. There is no room for doubt.”

Draco and I move closer, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. Catherine hands each of us a ceremonial dagger—delicate, ancient, and cold to the touch.

“The cut must be clean, just beneath the palm of your left hand,” she says. “Let your blood speak. Let it choose.”

I hesitate only a moment before dragging the edge of the blade across my hand, wincing as crimson beads rise to the surface. Across from me, Draco does the same, his jaw clenched, expression unreadable. We press our bleeding palms together, skin against skin, blood mixing in the shared wound.

Catherine raises her wand and begins to chant.

The incantation is low and rhythmic at first, but the magic in the air tightens, wrapping around us like a storm preparing to break. The moment our blood mingles, I feel it—an ancient pull, as if something deep within me is being unraveled and rewoven all at once.

And then the pain starts.

It’s not sharp or sudden—it’s searing, like molten magic being poured through our veins. My knees almost buckle from the sheer force of it, and I see Draco’s eyes widen, his hand trembling against mine. Our palms are locked together, but the magic is everywhere now, racing through our bodies like wildfire, stitching our souls together in unseen, unbreakable threads.

My breath catches as something slams through my chest—a sensation like being struck by lightning and drowning at the same time. I want to scream but can’t find my voice.

Catherine’s chanting reaches a crescendo, and suddenly, there’s a crack—not a sound, but a feeling, like the very world snapping around us.

White light explodes from where our hands meet.

It blinds me. It blinds everything. For a breathless, infinite second, there’s nothing but light and pain and power.

And then—

Silence.

When I blink my eyes open, I’m on my knees, Draco crouched beside me, breath ragged. Our hands are still clasped, the blood now dried and glowing faintly gold in the faint light of the training room.

Catherine exhales slowly, her eyes wide with something between awe and fear. “That…” she breathes, “was not supposed to happen.”

I scramble, now able to pull my hand away. “Draco? Dray—are you okay?”

“Fine,” he croaks out, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you okay, darling?”

“Yeah, yeah I think I’m good,” I stutter, looking up at Catherine.

She regards us curiously. “How… do you feel?” she asks hesitantly. “Any different?”

I blink, looking at Draco. We both take a moment to breathe, to settle, before saying anything. I do a mental check over my body—I’m a little worn out, but okay. Head’s clear. My chest—

Wait.

“That empty feeling,” I mutter. “It’s gone.”

Draco nods furiously, still clutching his chest. “Yeah. I feel… better. Tired, but better. A bit giddy, too, if I’m being honest.”

I can’t help but beam. “Draco—that’s me. You’re feeling me. You’re feeling my feelings! It worked!”

He breaks out into a grin, and the anxiety from a moment ago is gone. His anxiety. It’s gone. I can feel it. “Bloody hell, it is! I’m—you’re back! We’re back!”

Catherine gives us a satisfied nod as we stand, immediately wrapping ourselves around each other. Then, as if hexed, Draco pulls back.

“What?” I ask, breathless, before following his gaze down to his ring.

It’s glowing.

And—yep, I’ll be damned, so is mine.

“Do you think…?”

“Has to be,” he confirms, turning to Catherine. “Hex me.”

Catherine blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Hex me,” Draco repeats, more urgently now. “Something simple. Harmless. Just… cast it.”

She hesitates, clearly rattled, her brows drawing together. “Draco, that’s not protocol—”

“Please,” I cut in, stepping forward. “Just do it. We need to know.”

After a beat, she finally nods, lifting her wand slowly. “Expelliarmus.”

The spell flies toward Draco, a flash of red light zipping through the air—and the moment it gets close, it bounces. Not deflects, not absorbs—bounces, like it struck something invisible and unyielding. It crackles outward in a shimmering ripple before vanishing completely.

Draco blinks.

Catherine stares. “What in Merlin’s name…?”

We both look down again at our rings. The glow is steady now—no longer pulsing wildly, but warm, constant. Anchored.

Draco exhales a slow, almost disbelieving laugh. “It’s the diamonds,” he murmurs. “That’s what caused the light. That’s what protected us.”

Catherine’s expression sharpens. “Enchanted diamonds?”

I nod quickly. “My parents found this old diamond laced with protective magic and split it to make two family heirlooms—one for us, and one for the Malfoys. But they didn’t use the entire diamond, so Narcissa kept the excess and gave it back to us to use in our engagement rings.”

Her eyes narrow, mind already whirring. “That explosion… it wasn’t the blood pact alone. It was the pact fusing with the existing enchantment. They amplified each other. That’s why the spellwork bounced—it’s not just protection anymore. It’s fusion. You’re not merely bound by blood. You’re sealed by it.”

Draco whistles low, eyebrows raised. “So we’ve gone from eternally bound to indestructibly sealed. Lovely.”

I clutch his arm. “You’re saying we’ve created something even stronger than the Aeterna Vincula Sanguinis?”

Catherine looks at us, equal parts bewildered and impressed. “Stronger—and perhaps far more ancient than any of us realized. Those diamonds… they weren’t just enchanted. They were waiting. And now, they’ve chosen. The bond you’ve formed is no longer just a ritual. It’s a force.”

For a long moment, the room is quiet, the glowing runes still humming faintly around us.

Then Draco leans in, voice low and teasing against my ear. “You just had to make it eternal eternal, didn’t you?”

I elbow him lightly, but I’m grinning. “Well. If I’m stuck with you forever, might as well go full magical overkill.”

He laughs, and I can feel his joy build up in my chest. “It’s almost the same as the first bond, but it almost feels—”

“Stronger?” I cut him off, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Better, too.”

Catherine takes a step towards us. “Because you entered into it willingly. It wasn’t done without your knowledge or consent. Of course it’s stronger. You both wanted it.”

I turn to Draco, catching his hand in mine. “Well,” I say slowly, brushing my thumb over his knuckles, “your birthday’s not over yet.”

He groans lightly. “Darling, I told you I didn’t want anything big—”

“And I listened,” I interrupt with a smirk. “No big party. No surprises. Just dinner.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Dinner?”

I press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Trust me.”

He does.

~

We apparate just outside a tucked-away wizarding restaurant in London—warm light spills from its enchanted windows, laughter and clinking glasses drifting out into the cobbled alley. Draco arches a brow as I tug him toward the door, the ring on his finger still faintly glowing under the sleeve of his coat.

“Just dinner, hmm?”

I grin. “Would I lie?”

He doesn’t get a chance to answer before the host opens the door and leads us to a private room in the back. As we step in, a chorus of familiar voices erupts all at once:

“SURPRISE!”

Draco flinches slightly—because of course he does—but the smile that follows is real, wide, and startled in the best way.

The room is filled with everyone we love.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione are near the fireplace, waving with drinks in hand. Pansy is perched elegantly on a velvet chair, already rolling her eyes fondly. Blaise and Theo are at the bar with Luna—who’s wearing glittering star-shaped clips in her hair—and Ginny and Neville are setting down a cake at the center of the long table with Aurélien (and a mystery girl that I’ll question him about later) while Hannah fusses over candles.

Draco turns to me, brows lifted. “You little liar.”

“I said it wasn’t big,” I say innocently. “It’s just… everyone who matters.”

His throat bobs as he takes in the room, the people, the warmth, the happiness—and he visibly softens. “You’re the worst,” he murmurs, pulling me close, “and the best.”

We walk in together, greeted with hugs and teases and far too many toasts, and I can feel the way everyone keeps looking at us. Not just looking—noticing. There’s something different.

“Are you two glowing, mes amis?” Aury asks at one point, squinting.

“Did you finally break into divine power?” Luna says dreamily. “You look like you’ve been kissed by starfire.”

I glance at Draco, and we both nod at the same time. “Actually,” I say, holding up my left hand where the diamond ring gleams faintly, “we’ve got something to tell you all.”

The room quiets a bit as everyone leans in.

“The bond’s back,” Draco says simply, sliding his fingers through mine.

“It’s… reforged. Stronger. Better.”

Hermione gasps softly. Pansy makes a face like she’s not about to cry but definitely is. Blaise whistles. And Theo mutters, “Great, now I have to buy you both another joint present.”

The celebration that follows is warm and chaotic and a little overwhelming—but Draco doesn’t stop smiling. Not once.

And even though he swore he wanted a quiet birthday, I can feel it through the bond—the contentment humming through his bones, the joy pulsing like magic between us.

He loves it. He loves us.

But most importantly, he loves me.