Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room with his friends, too stunned to think straight. Ron and Neville braced him on either side to keep him from stumbling into doorways or on stairs. He couldn't wrap his head around what was about to happen. Was he really going to move into Malfoy Manor? Was he really going to have to wait on his mortal enemy hand and foot? What kind of nightmare was this?

Hermione took pity on him and helped him pack. His hands moved in slow-motion as he folded his clothes and stowed them in his trunk. He kept stopping and looking to her with a question on his lips that never fully formed. She looked miserable, too, which didn't help the growing sense of doom in the pit of his stomach.

He drifted semi-consciously through the End of Term Feast and didn't even notice who won the House Cup. He stared at his plate, his head full of woe, and tried not to look up whenever he heard Malfoy's arrogant laugh rise above the clamor of the student body.

He spent his last night at Hogwarts lying in bed, wide-eyed and anxious, staring at the ceiling and wondering what tomorrow would be like. Tomorrow they would board the train and ride back to King's Cross Station. When they arrived, would Malfoy really follow through with their agreement? Or would he let Harry slink away with Ron, ashamed and defeated?

He hoped for the latter, but deep down inside he knew it would be the former.

The next morning the students gathered their belongings and toted them down to the train. Harry exited with his house, his trunk levitating along behind him like a balloon on a tether. He hoped to blend in, to make it to the train without incident. But no such luck.

"Potter!" Malfoy's voice rang out behind him. He flinched and turned. Draco was standing at the top of the steps at the entrance of the school, two rather large trunks beside him. "Today you are my porter, Potter," he laughed at his own play on words.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry shot back, then turned to catch up with his friends. Just then a searing hot pain shot up his spine and dropped him to his knees.

"Harry!" Hermione turned and ran back to him. "Are you okay?"

"No," Harry gasped, sweat pouring down his brow. They looked up at Malfoy, who was still standing on the top step. To Harry's surprise, Draco looked shocked, not pleased, at his collapse.

"What happened?" Malfoy asked, his voice less confident than before.

"It's the Blood Oath," Hermione glared at him. "You ordered him to carry your bags. He can't refuse."

Draco's brow furrowed worriedly. He looked at his trunks and back down at Harry. "If he does it, the pain will stop, right?"

"Harry, you have to get up," Hermione whispered in his ear.

"Get up, Potter," Draco's voice turned sharp again. "No need to torture yourself."

Harry grimaced and climbed to his feet. As he stood the pain in his back lessened. As he turned to face Malfoy it disappeared. He ducked his head and realized he had no choice but to obey. He reluctantly walked up the steps and cast his levitation charm at Draco's trunks, then towed them back down to float beside his own.

"Smashing," Draco grinned and skipped down the steps after him. He walked beside Harry and clapped his arm good-naturedly around his shoulders. "It's going to be a great summer."