In Ink and Inheritance (Book 1)

Chapter 9 - No Turning Back

Oliver Wood's POV

The Ministry envelope was waiting on my bed when I got back from breakfast. Stark white against the dark wool of my blankets, like it had dropped out of the sky just to ruin my morning.

I didn't open it right away.

I already knew what it said.

I could feel it in my chest - a quiet pressure, like a promise unspoken. The kind that doesn't loosen even when you try to pretend it's not there.

Eventually, I sat down on the edge of the bed, peeled open the seal, and scanned the formal language.

The contract is now recognized under the Ministry's authority... magical breach penalties... heirs listed: Harriet Lily Potter and Oliver Benjamin Wood... compatibility assessment required by year's end...

I rubbed my face with one hand and exhaled hard.

They weren't kidding.

And yet, I wasn't angry.

Not exactly.

It was more like the world had shifted slightly under my feet - not in a bad way, just... tilted. Realigned.

And her name being there - Harriet Lily Potter - didn't feel wrong.

But what did sink its claws into my chest was the line near the bottom:

Note: Special consideration required due to age disparity.

Of course.

Thirteen and seventeen. Four years. A world apart in some ways.

I knew what people would say. That she was too young. That I was too old. That it was a mistake. That it wasn't natural - not the contract, not the quiet looks across the pitch, not the way my chest tightened when she said my name.

And maybe they'd be right.

But magic didn't care about our rules. It never had.

-

"Mr. Wood."

I looked up from the parchment to find Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway to the dormitory.

How she got past the stairs, I didn't know - and frankly, I wasn't brave enough to ask.

"Come with me, please."

-

Her office was still the same - tartan armchairs, an ever-pouring tea set, and a sense that you shouldn't even think about misbehaving within five feet of her.

I stood stiffly in front of her desk, Ministry letter still clutched in one hand.

She didn't ask to see it. She didn't need to.

"I take it you've received your notice," she said, steepling her fingers.

"Yes, Professor."

"And?"

"And I don't plan to run from it."

She raised a brow. "Is that pride I hear in your voice, Mr. Wood?"

"No, ma'am," I said quickly. Then, after a pause: "Respect."

"Good," she said, but her gaze sharpened. "Because this is not a simple situation. Harriet is still a child under magical law. The contract may be active, but that does not give you license for anything beyond the bond's formalities. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Her guardians are deceased. The Ministry will try to insert itself as her proxy. I'll be keeping a close eye on this."

I nodded, heart pounding.

"She may look strong," McGonagall added more softly, "but she's been through more than most grown witches. You will not add to that."

I swallowed hard. "I would never hurt her."

"I believe you," she said. "Which is why I'm telling you this now: if you're going to be a part of her life, you must let her grow into her own voice. You may be linked by bloodlines, but it's her choice that matters most."

My chest tightened.

"I understand," I said.

She studied me for a moment longer, then nodded. "Very well. I've arranged for a supervised trip to Hogsmeade for the two of you this weekend. You'll be required to attend as part of the social contract expectations. Formal dress robes are not required - though I advise you to look presentable."

I blinked. "You're... letting us go together?"

"Supervised," she repeated. "And not alone. Miss Granger will be accompanying you. She's read more about magical bonding rituals than I ever hoped she would."

That... sounded about right.

McGonagall leaned back slightly. "I trust you, Oliver. I would not say so lightly."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Thank you, Professor."

As I turned to leave, she added, almost as an afterthought: "And for Merlin's sake, don't let Fred and George anywhere near it."

-

That night, I stood by the fireplace long after everyone had gone to bed. The parchment from the Ministry sat beside me on the stone ledge.

I thought about her.

About the way her voice sounded when she was unsure. About the way she'd said I didn't say I didn't want it. About how even in all of this - the pressure, the magic, the history - she still stood tall.

This wasn't just about ancient promises.

This was her.

And I was already falling.