Author’s Note:
Secrets rarely collapse in a single moment.
More often, they unravel thread by thread, until the truth can no longer be ignored.
As Harry, Hermione, and Daphne begin piecing together the forces that shaped their past, every answer raises a more troubling question.
Harry watched Ron stalk away toward the far end of the table, where Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were already seated.
The redhead dropped heavily onto the bench beside them, still looking thoroughly offended.
With a frustrated sigh, Harry shook his head.
“He clearly knows nothing about bonds,” he muttered.
“How they’re formed, what they mean… nothing. You’d think, being raised in a pure-blood family, he’d at least have heard of them.”
“Careful, Harry,” Neville cautioned gently.
Harry glanced across the table.
Neville leaned forward slightly before continuing.
“It’s not really surprising. Soul bonds are extraordinarily rare. Most witches and wizards never encounter one in their entire lives.”
He paused thoughtfully.
“And what happened with you three is even rarer. Identical bonds forming simultaneously with two witches?” He shook his head.
“I’ve never heard of anything like it.”
Harry released a long breath.
“I suppose you’re right.”
His gaze drifted toward Ron.
“It’s just…” He rubbed his forehead.
“His bigotry is really starting to wear me down.”
Hermione’s expression tightened.
Harry continued.
“I’ve spent years dealing with his jealousy, his laziness, and his complete lack of manners. But this?” He shook his head.
“I’m reaching the limit of my patience.”
A bitter smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.
“I honestly thought McGonagall would straighten him out after breakfast.”
“Apparently not,” Daphne said dryly.
A few moments later, Ginny arrived.
The instant she approached, all three of them became noticeably more cautious.
None of them acknowledged it aloud.
They didn’t need to.
The memories they shared were warning enough.
If Ginny refused to accept the reality of the bond, there was every possibility she might resort to potions.
Assuming she hadn’t already.
She sat beside Neville and immediately launched into harmless conversation.
School gossip.
Classes.
Quidditch.
Nothing important.
More importantly, she never once mentioned the bond.
That worried Harry far more than if she had.
Silence could mean denial.
Denial could lead to desperation.
And desperation often led people to do foolish things.
Still, throughout the meal she made no suspicious movements.
No furtive glances.
No attempts to slip anything into food or drink.
None of them felt ill.
Nothing unusual happened at all.
That didn’t lessen their caution.
Not even slightly.
If anything, it reinforced it.
Trust would take a very long time to rebuild.
Especially where food and drink were involved.
Eventually, Daphne set down her goblet.
“Shall we head to the library?”
She looked between Harry and Hermione.
“We still have some time before afternoon classes.”
Hermione brightened immediately.
“That’s actually a very good idea.”
Harry nodded.
Pushing his chair back, he rose.
“Excuse us.”
He looked toward Neville and Ginny.
“Daphne and Hermione have volunteered to start educating me in Ancient Runes.”
Neville chuckled.
Ginny managed a smile.
As the three of them turned to leave, Harry caught a fleeting expression on Ginny’s face.
Longing.
It vanished almost instantly.
But he had seen it.
And it left him feeling deeply uncomfortable.
The corridor outside the Great Hall was pleasantly quiet compared to the noise inside.
For several moments they walked in silence.
Then Harry spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
Both girls looked at him.
“When Ginny sat down, I got tense.”
He grimaced.
“I don’t know how convincing I was, but I was having a hard time hiding how much I dislike her right now.”
Hermione immediately reached over and squeezed his hand.
“You weren’t the only one.”
“Definitely not.”
Harry glanced between them.
Only then did he notice something.
Again.
The same pattern.
Hermione walking on his right.
Daphne on his left.
Every time.
Since breakfast.
Since waking up, really.
When did that become a thing?
He couldn’t remember anyone suggesting it.
Yet somehow it had become completely natural.
Strangely enough, he didn’t dislike it.
The library was mercifully quiet.
After navigating through the shelves, the girls led Harry toward a table tucked away near the back.
School bags landed on the tabletop.
Hermione immediately began planning.
“I’ll look for books on potion detection.”
She started counting on her fingers.
“Countermeasures, identifying contamination, protective charms…”
“I’ll get the introductory Ancient Runes texts,” Daphne said.
“There should still be copies available.”
She frowned thoughtfully.
“I haven’t received a response from Mother yet about my old textbooks.”
Harry considered their suggestions.
Then snapped his fingers.
“I’ll research soul bonds.”
Both girls approved immediately.
They split up.
The search took nearly twenty minutes.
When Harry returned, he was carrying three books.
Only one focused specifically on soul bonds.
The others covered magical soul connections more generally.
Hermione and Daphne were already waiting with substantial stacks of their own.
Harry eyed the collection.
“We may want to check all of these out.”
“Daphne and I have Arithmancy this afternoon,” Hermione reminded him.
“We know.”
Daphne rolled her eyes affectionately.
The books were quickly examined.
Several were discarded almost immediately.
One of Harry’s sources contradicted everything they already knew.
That one went straight back onto the reject pile.
Eventually they narrowed everything down.
Hermione tapped the selected books.
“These should be enough.”
Daphne nodded.
“Agreed.”
Then she turned toward Harry.
“Since you’re free this afternoon…”
An idea clearly formed.
“Why don’t you take these back to the apartment?”
Harry raised an eyebrow.
“You want homework delegated already?”
“Absolutely.”
Daphne didn’t even pretend to feel guilty.
Hermione laughed.
Daphne continued.
“Research the bond. Research the potions.”
She gestured toward the stack.
“When our classes finish, we’ll meet you there.”
“And then?” Harry asked.
“Then,” Hermione said with a smile, “we begin teaching you Ancient Runes.”
Harry grinned.
“Sounds fair.”
The remaining books were reshelved.
The chosen ones were checked out.
A short while later Harry escorted both girls to their Arithmancy classroom before making his way alone toward the seventh floor.
When the girls finally returned from Arithmancy, they found Harry exactly where they’d expected him to be.
Seated on the sofa.
Surrounded by notes.
The coffee table had almost disappeared beneath sheets of parchment, open books, quills, and ink bottles.
Daphne stopped in the doorway.
“Well?”
Harry looked up.
A faint smile crossed his face.
“Good afternoon, ladies.”
Hermione and Daphne sat opposite him.
Harry gathered several pages together.
“I started with the potions.”
His expression darkened.
He shook his head.
“It’s no wonder we weren’t thinking clearly.”
Both girls immediately focused on him.
Harry lifted the first set of notes.
“The primary potion appears to be Amortentia.”
Hermione nodded instantly.
Harry continued.
“Which is misleading.”
He tapped the parchment.
“It isn’t really love.”
His tone hardened.
“It’s obsession.”
“Or lust,” Daphne added.
“Exactly.”
Harry pointed at a section of his notes.
“After the initial dose, it has to be renewed regularly.”
He looked between them.
“Every two to three days.”
Hermione frowned.
“To maintain effectiveness?”
Harry nodded.
“And to avoid detection.”
He continued explaining.
Dosage schedules.
Delivery methods.
Known side effects.
The risk of overdose.
The possibility of developing resistance or allergies.
The more he spoke, the uglier the picture became.
“And we already know Molly figured out how to manage long-term administration.”
Neither girl looked particularly pleased hearing that.
Harry moved on.
“The second potion is Fidelitas.”
That immediately caught Hermione’s attention.
“The loyalty potion?”
“That’s the one.”
Harry flipped another page.
“Structurally, it’s remarkably similar to Amortentia.”
Only a handful of ingredients differed.
Its effects were equally disturbing.
“Again, loyalty isn’t really the right word.”
He tapped the parchment.
“It creates obsession disguised as devotion.”
The similarities between the two potions were striking.
Too striking.
“Same dosing schedule.”
“Same maintenance requirements.”
“Same risk of allergic reactions.”
Daphne folded her arms.
“So what’s the problem?”
Harry frowned.
“According to everything I’ve read, administering both simultaneously should be dangerous.”
He tapped the notes thoughtfully.
“Possibly even impossible over the long term.”
Hermione leaned forward.
“But she managed it.”
“Apparently.”
Harry looked troubled.
“And I still haven’t found an explanation for how.”
That mystery remained unresolved.
Finally, Harry picked up the last set of notes.
“The third potion.”
His voice became noticeably colder.
“Invidia.”
Recognition flickered in Hermione’s eyes.
“The repulsion potion.”
Harry nodded.
“This one encourages the drinker to fixate on someone’s flaws.”
He paused.
“Every weakness.”
“Every irritation.”
“Every mistake.”
Daphne’s expression darkened.
“A magical way to make someone hate another person.”
“Not quite hate,” Harry corrected.
“But close.”
He glanced down at the text.
“It’s actually considered a diluted version of a true Hate Potion.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
Because all three of them knew exactly what that implied.
And exactly how many years of their lives had been shaped by it.