"You?!"
Hermione stared blankly at Kai Adler.
How could a living, breathing person become a gift?
Kai had intended to tease her a little, but seeing her bewildered expression, he realized she hadn't fully understood what he meant.
He sighed softly, both helpless and a little amused.
"Let me ask you something first," he said quietly.
"Go ahead," Hermione replied, her wide brown eyes open and sincere.
Kai suddenly felt a flutter of nerves. His lips pressed into a line, his palm slightly damp as he clenched it behind his back.
"If the gift I want to give you," he said slowly, eyes locking onto hers, "would bind you to me for the rest of your life—bound in both life and death… would you accept it?"
To his astonishment, Hermione didn't even hesitate.
"Yes."
Kai was stunned.
Looking into her clear, trusting eyes, he felt a strange guilt—like an old soul leading a young girl into something she couldn't possibly understand.
"Don't you want to think it over?" he asked gently. "This would affect your whole life."
"What's there to think about?" Hermione sat down on a stone near the water's edge, swinging her legs slightly, tapping the ground with her shoes.
She turned toward him. "Would you ever hurt me?"
Kai shook his head at once. "No."
"Would you betray me?"
"Never."
"Then what's there to hesitate about?"
The soft light of the setting sun kissed her face, casting golden highlights through her hair. The breeze played with her curls, lifting them gently, and in that moment, with her faint smile and calm voice, she looked as beautiful as a painting.
Kai stared, momentarily dazed.
Her hair shimmered like molten gold, and it stirred something in his chest—something warm and undeniable.
Slowly, he reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
Hermione blinked, caught off guard by the touch. A strange warmth spread through her at the gentle brush of his fingers. She shifted her feet, accidentally nudging a pebble into the lake with a soft plop.
The water rippled, scattering the reflection of the sun into waves of golden petals.
Hermione stared at the surface, as though trying to understand her own heart. She didn't yet realize what this feeling was called—but she did know, without question, that she would never leave Kai.
Not now. Not ever.
Kai's gaze softened even further.
"Alright, then," he said at last. He reached out and took her hand, guiding it upward.
"Raise your palm."
Hermione followed his lead. Their hands met, palm to palm, fingers pressed together.
"Now close your eyes," he said gently, "and focus all your magic and will into the center of your forehead. Slowly. Calmly."
She nodded and obeyed, eyes fluttering shut. Her expression turned serious, and she began to concentrate without question.
Kai watched her with a trace of affection, then turned his own attention inward.
But while Hermione only had to gather magic, he had to prepare much more.
A swirl of air lifted around his feet, pebbles beginning to rise from the ground, dancing in slow spirals around them.
A complex, ancient magical circle emerged on the earth below them, drawn in invisible lines of power.
Kai narrowed his eyes slightly.
This was a bonding ritual—a powerful magical connection formed between two witches or wizards. It was usually performed between magical partners of comparable strength, their magic interweaving to create an eternal resonance.
But Hermione wasn't ready—not in magical reserves, not in raw power.
She wasn't strong enough yet to match him.
Which meant Kai would have to carry her half of the burden as well.
He pushed forward, drawing on his own magic. But even his considerable reserves were straining to maintain the circle.
Then I'll borrow its help, he thought grimly.
And with that, the shadows at his feet shifted.
A luminous, misty silver light blossomed above him. With a low, resonant call, a massive creature emerged from the mist—a silver-white blue whale, its form impossibly graceful, its presence vast yet calming.
Hermione opened her eyes, gasping softly.
She adored Kai's Patronus—its gentle strength, its beauty.
"Focus," Kai murmured, smiling faintly.
"Oh—right."
She puffed out her cheeks and, with some effort, closed her eyes again.
"No rush," he added quietly. "You'll have one too someday."
"Mm!"
She didn't see the quiet, mysterious smile on his lips.
Yes, she would summon her own Patronus—because he would make sure of it.
In fact, her ability to do so would come even sooner now.
Patronuses were the natural counter to darkness. Even the Obscurus within him—the dark, twisted mass of suppressed magic—was calmed under the soothing influence of his Patronus. The usual black mist barely stirred now; instead, it flowed gently into the circle, like ink dispersing into warm water.
As the Obscurus reinforced the ritual, Kai felt the tension ease.
It's working.
He closed his eyes and began the true spellwork.
"Now," he whispered, "think about your most important memory with me. Don't speak it aloud—just hold it in your heart."
Hermione nodded silently, the lake breeze brushing against her skin as she searched her memory.
The circle around them flared to life, glowing with a pure, flawless light. Their robes fluttered gently in the rising current of magic. Neither noticed—they were too immersed in each other's presence.
Slowly, as if drawn by some unseen gravity, their foreheads drifted closer.
And then—contact.
A subtle warmth passed between them the moment their skin touched.
Magic, laden with memory and emotion, met and intertwined.
It wasn't a clash. It was a reunion—two halves recognizing each other for the first time.
But as the connection deepened, the imbalance became clear.
Kai's magic was vast—deep as the sea. Hermione's was still a budding stream.
The ritual worked like a siphon: transferring magical essence both ways. But if left unchecked, Hermione's magic would be drained dry, possibly leaving her a Muggle.
Kai clenched his teeth.
He wouldn't allow that.
He forced the circle into a lower rhythm, slowing the exchange, deliberately pushing magic into her while preventing hers from flowing back out.
This wasn't how the spell was meant to function.
But he didn't care.
The magic he gave her flowed through the circle, transformed by its purity and fused into her own essence.
Hermione felt it immediately.
At first, it was jarring—a strange pull, like her very soul being drawn forward.
But then, it shifted.
A warm current entered her through her brow, gentle and golden, spreading through her limbs like sunlight through water. Her fingers tingled, her chest filled with light.
It felt like she was floating in a warm spring, completely safe and at peace.
By the lake, the wind stirred.
The golden light of the sunset shimmered on the water, reflecting the two figures standing on the shore.
Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling, hands now clasped tightly together, fingers intertwined.
In the light of the setting sun, their shadows merged on the grass—cast in the perfect shape of a heart.