In Ink and Inheritance (Book 1)

Chapter 14 - Questions and Shadows

Harriet Potter's POV

I stared at the first question for ten minutes before I even picked up my quill.

Do you feel drawn to your intended in the presence of others?

Yes.

More than I wanted to admit.

Not in a hearts-and-flowers way. Not the way Lavender talked about dreamy Quidditch captains or how Parvati gushed over wizarding pop stars. It was quieter. He didn't make my heart race - he made it steady. Like standing in the eye of a storm and realizing you're still whole.

I wrote the word yes, neat and careful.

Then moved to the next one.

Do you believe they trust you?

Yes. Maybe more than he should.

Have you witnessed signs of magical resonance (i.e., warmth, shared magic, or emotional clarity)?

Yes. Especially when we're near each other. I don't know how to describe it - it's like the magic between us... listens.

I hesitated on the final, optional line.

In your own words, describe how your intended makes you feel.

I chewed the tip of my quill, heart tight.

Then wrote:

He makes me feel like I'm not just the product of a prophecy or a headline. He makes me feel seen, not watched. Heard, not measured. Like I could become someone - and it wouldn't scare him away. Maybe it's the contract. Maybe it's just him. But with him, I feel real.

I exhaled.

Folding the parchment closed was harder than expected. Like sealing it made it permanent.

Just as I tucked it into my bag, the common room portrait swung open and Hermione burst through, breathless, snowflakes caught in her curls.

"Harriet," she said, eyes wide. "Have you seen this?"

She thrust the Daily Prophet at me. The front page screamed in bold black letters:

"SIRIUS BLACK SPOTTED NEAR HOGSMEADE: MINISTRY CONFIRMS ESCAPED PRISONER WAS SIGHTED JUST BEYOND HOGWARTS GROUNDS"

I sat up straighter. "That's the prisoner - the one from Azkaban?"

Hermione nodded grimly. "He was seen last night near the Honeydukes exit. The Ministry's already reinforcing Dementor patrols. Professor Lupin's posted a watch schedule. They think he might try to get into the castle."

I swallowed, remembering the chill that crept over me during the last match. The hollow, bone-deep cold. The screaming that wasn't quite in my ears but somewhere in the back of my skull.

Dementors.

They were getting closer.

And Sirius Black... for some reason, he was coming for me.

Ron came barreling down the stairs, hair sticking up in all directions. "You saw the paper? We're not allowed out without a prefect now - even to the pitch."

"Great," I muttered. "Just in time for practice."

"Don't be daft," Ron said. "They're saying Black wants to kill you."

Hermione elbowed him.

I didn't answer.

Because in the very bottom of my stomach, I already knew: whatever Sirius Black wanted, it had something to do with the past.

With me.

And for the first time since the contract arrived, I wasn't thinking about marriage or magical resonance.

I was thinking about how to survive the next game.