In Ink and Inheritance (Book 1)

Chapter 10 - Telling Them

Harriet Potter's POV

I wasn't going to tell them.

I'd convinced myself it would be easier to keep it quiet - at least until I could wrap my head around it myself. But the second Hermione sat beside me in the common room, clutching a rolled-up study schedule and a suspiciously sharp quill, I knew it was time.

Ron was slouched in the armchair opposite us, fiddling with a Chocolate Frog card and pretending not to eavesdrop.

I stared at the fire for a long moment before saying, "I need to tell you something. And I need you both to not... freak out."

Hermione looked up instantly, concern flashing across her face. "What happened? Is it You-Know-Who? The Dementors again?"

Ron sat up a little straighter, suddenly alert. "What's going on?"

I reached into my cloak pocket and pulled out the Ministry envelope.

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's official Ministry parchment. What-?"

"It's a betrothal contract," I said, quickly, before I could chicken out. "Between the Potters and another pure-blood family. It was signed a hundred and seventy years ago. And... it activated last week."

They both stared.

Hermione blinked. "A what?"

Ron choked on his frog. "A what?!"

I let the scroll unroll across the table. Their eyes scanned it, taking in the thick lettering, the gold seal, the phrase The bond is now active.

"It was between the Potters and the Woods," I said. "And now that both heirs are... of magical maturity or whatever it's called, it triggered. The Ministry recognizes it. There are penalties if we try to reject it."

Ron went pale. "Woods? Like-Oliver Wood? Our Oliver Wood?!"

Hermione leaned closer to the document, muttering under her breath. "There's no exact definition of magical maturity, but I've read that it can activate early if the magic between the parties starts to resonate-oh no, that explains the compatibility forms-Harriet, they've scheduled an evaluation!"

I buried my face in my hands. "I know. I read it. Three times."

Ron was still frozen. "He's seventeen."

"I know."

"He's massive!"

"Also true," I mumbled into my palms.

Hermione snapped back into focus. "Are you alright? I mean-do you want this?"

I looked at her, then at Ron, who looked halfway between horror and needing to throw something.

"I didn't choose it," I said quietly. "But I don't hate it."

Hermione's expression softened.

Ron, however, stared at me like I'd just told him I was moving to Mars.

"You don't hate it? Harry-he's ancient. He shaves."

I laughed - a little. "He's not ancient. He's just older. And he's being really respectful about it. He hasn't done anything weird or pushy. He's just... there."

Ron grumbled something that might have included the word "broom-polishing prat."

Hermione laid a hand on my arm. "What does it mean going forward?"

"There's a Hogsmeade visit," I said. "Supervised. You're coming, apparently."

"Of course I am," she said firmly.

Ron crossed his arms. "And me?"

I gave him a look. "You're lucky I told you at all."

He opened his mouth to argue, then slumped back in the chair. "I still think it's bloody mad. But... if he does anything you don't like, I hex him first."

Hermione smiled. "I'll hex him second."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Thanks, you two."

Hermione leaned over and hugged me. "You're not alone in this. Magical contract or not."

Ron just muttered, "Still think we should look into if we can unbind it. I bet Fred and George know something."

"Absolutely not," I said quickly.

But the moment was lighter now. Less sharp. The fear didn't feel quite so heavy with them beside me.

And even though I had no idea what the Hogsmeade visit would bring, I knew one thing:

No matter what magic said, I got to decide how this story unfolded.

And I wasn't writing it alone.