Redemption

a/N: Hey, guys! So, I've been really excited about this chapter. It's not really long or anything—about average length—but it does so much for plot development and stuff that it's important to pay attention, because this chapter is sort of like the crux for the entire fic! I hope you guys enjoy it, and please please review once you've finished! My song rec for this chapter is Lithium by Nirvana, merely because Nirvana is my favorite band and my muse—Kurt's voice gives me inspiration when I write. Alright, well thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!

Chapter Thirteen: The Agreement

Things had gotten too complicated; he was in too deep and the proximity of it all was suffocating, almost. Suffocating him in a way that made the confused young man delirious and giddy in a lovestruck sort of way. Love, though…was he in love? Surely he'd never fallen out of it. Not really. And although he felt that familiar pull at his heart that indicated he was, once more, falling in love with his wife, he refused to admit it. Not just for his own sake, but for hers as well.

Draco was now being forced to pay for the actions and decisions he had made in his absence. The acquaintances he had made; the plans he had formulated were all crumbling and withering before him as his guilt ate him from the inside out. It was a gnawing pain that left him feeling raw and washed out; it attacked him viciously at night when he was unable to sleep, and so he spent the better portion of his insomnia-driven evenings watching the peaceful rise and fall of his Witch's chest as she slept. No, she wasn't his Witch anymore—he had to remind himself of that.

There were things he had to change; arrangements that were made only to be broken. Because if he didn't back out now, everything he had so craftily built would crumble before his very eyes.

There was no backing out now—he had to visit him. He had to visit that vile and loathsome man who had single-handedly aided in the destruction of his marriage; the deterioration of Draco's trust for Hermione.

It was time to visit Theodore Nott.

The location of Nott's underground business system was in a high-end part of London, but you wouldn't be able to tell with the way it was run. The cold walls pressed close against Draco's shoulders as he stalked down the narrow corridors, shivering at how chilly it was. Having a thriving illegal business set up under the busy streets of London was both a blessing and curse in disguise, and often enough Draco flinched as he heard the roaring of cars passing by above—their wheels rolling against the pavement and their angry horns filling the smoggy air.

Approaching the wooden door at the end of the corridor, Draco knocked once, waiting to be permitted access into Nott's office. Once he was granted entrance, Draco twisted the rusty metal knob and threw it open, stepping inside the spacious but ill-kept office, his grey eyes taking everything in within a matter of seconds. Wrinkling his nose in a state of slight disgust, he shut the door behind him and moved to sit in one of the plush leather chairs opposite Theo's large mahogany desk. The expensive furnishing didn't match the dingy environment, and Draco couldn't help but to think of this with a smug grin on his face.

"What an interesting establishment you've made, Nott," Draco snickered, relaxing into the chair. He rested his elbows on the arm rests, lacing his hands together and sneering at the man before him. The War had done many things to the once quiet and passive Theodore Nott, causing him to grow and mold into a being that hardly anyone would recognize these days. Though still lean, he'd grown into his lanky frame and didn't appear so gangly and awkward. His dark hair parted in all the right places, and when he glared down at you, his high cheekbones seemed more defined. He sat in the large chair opposite Draco behind the desk, a pensive look encompassing his pointed features. He regarded Draco with a curious stare, as though he were trying to figure him out, before sighing and leaning forward, grabbing a stack of paperwork from his desk and shoving them together.

"We're in the process of remodeling, Malfoy," Theo responded coolly, jerking open a drawer in his desk and shoving the papers inside before turning to face his ex-classmate once more. "Forgive me for not all of us acquiring the wealth necessary to build a thriving enterprise in one day."

Draco brushed aside the comment about his wealth, knowing it would lead to no good for him to delve further on the subject.

"Well, you should probably deal with this problem soon," Draco stated, shrugging slightly in his discomfort. "Because as it is, this place smells like Weasley took a giant shit in it."

"Ah," Theo managed, his mouth twitching into a forced smile before he composed himself once more. He'd never quite gotten over just how well Draco managed to come out of everything—even in the midst of his misfortune, he still found time to degrade others. "Still as charming as ever, I see. Why is it you're here, exactly, Draco? Looking to purchase a potion from me?"

Draco shook his head stiffly, offended by the idea.

"I'm not interested in your illegal activity," He sneered, his fingers running along the wood finishing of the chair he'd placed himself in. "I have no use for smuggled memory potions or charms."

Theo cocked one brow and picked up the tiny hour glass that lay on his desk. He ran the cool and intricately shaped object in the palm of his hand, watching the speckles of sand fall from one vial to the other.

"That wasn't the attitude you possessed when we made our agreement," Theo drawled, lifting the hour glass up to the light, studying it with a curious expression on his face.

"Yes, I know," Draco began testily, fidgeting in his seat. "That's what I came to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Theo asked, suddenly interested. He set the miniature hour glass back on the table, directing his attention once more to the fair-haired man before him.

"Yes," Draco stated confidently. "I want out of it."

"You want out of it?" Theo sputtered incredulously, both of his dark brows shooting skyward. His face portrayed a wide range of emotions—first shock, then anger, and finally, confusion.

"I believe that's what I said, yes," Draco said coolly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

There was a beat of silence as Theo studied Draco, evidently trying to decipher whether or not the man was lying. Finally, after a few moments of inspection, Theo barked out a short burst of dry laughter, leaning back in his chair as his shoulders heaved and shook.

"Nice one, Malfoy. What, do you mean to tell me that you've had a change of heart?" Theo sneered, snorting as he reviewed what he obviously believed to be a ridiculous concept. Yes, Draco caring about someone was clearly a laughing matter. When Draco didn't respond, however, and merely glared at the clearly enthused smuggler before him, Theo's laughter died down, and that same look of awe soon overwhelmed his features.

"Wait," Theo spoke slowly, realization dawning on his cruel features. "You are, aren't you? You're falling for the Mudblood again!"

"Don't you dare fucking call her that!" Draco spat, anger surging inside of him. Really, why was he getting so worked up? He'd promised himself he wouldn't get attached to her again; not after what she'd done. And he was being successful…right? She was just a good shag and a forgotten love…wasn't she?

"I remember a time when that used to be your favorite description of her, Draco," Theo sneered, his mouth twisting into an amused smirk. Draco wanted to smack the expression right off the damn bastard's face, digging his nails into the palms of his hands and creating crescent-shaped groove marks in his supple skin.

"Things have changed," He spat through his teeth.

"Yes, well, I beg to differ," Theo snorted, leaning back in his chair. "Especially given the little arrangement you proposed to me last year."

"You planted the damn idea into my head!" Draco shouted, his voice croaking as he leaned forward in his seat, defending himself.

"Ah, yes, but you allowed it to grow."

Draco muddled the thought over for a moment-had he allowed it to grow? Was it his fault that his life was in the fucked-up position it was now? His mind recalled a flicker of a past memory, trying to decipher whether or not he was in the wrong.

"She left you, Draco," Theo stated sternly, and Draco looked up at him with wide eyes, the thick blanket wrapped around his shivering torso.

"No, no, she loves me!" Draco protested, his brows furrowing together. "She wouldn't have just left me alone like that. It must have been a mistake-you're just getting it wrong, is all." He was quite confident; quite sure of his wife's adoration for him, that nothing this old school friend would say could persuade him to believe otherwise. And yet, he'd been so thoroughly convincing...

"I'm afraid not, Malfoy," Theo recalled sadly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shaking his head slowly. "She finally got fed up with your ridiculous attitude-you trusted her, and she turned her back on you. She betrayed you, Draco, are you really going to let the little Mudblood of all people get away with that?"

The very confused version of Draco's former self merely glanced up at Theo in confusion, his lips tugging into a slight frown.

"No," Theo answered for him sternly. "You're not."

Snapping out of the vision, it took every ounce of willpower Draco possessed not to lunge across the desk and throttle the git for getting him sucked into this mess in the first place. If Draco hadn't felt so betrayed and vulnerable when Theo found him, he more than likely wouldn't have agreed to this…this toxic plan in the first place.

"I'm not going to let you out of this agreement easily, Draco," Theo said suddenly, his attitude much more relaxed. "I'm the one who found you trekking about Europe dazed and confused—I restored your memories. Now, you have to pay the price."

"If I had known you were going to be so bloody sinister and difficult about the entire damn thing, I never would have accepted your help that day in Scotland in the first place!"

"Is that so, Draco?" Theo asked suddenly, cocking one dark brow and tilting his head slightly to the side. He seemed to be studying Draco for proof of the lie that was clearly written on his face. Finally, he sighed and shrugged his shoulders, as though the subject at hand was boring him.

"A deal's a deal, Malfoy," Theo said suddenly, lacing his fingers together and leaning back in his chair, lips pursed. Draco tensed immediately, narrowing his eyes into vicious slits and hissing at the vile man seated before him. "You have the remainder of the six months to convince your wife that you're capable of being trusted once more. Once the marriage contract has expired, you'll bring her to me so that I can…hold to my end of the deal."

"And if I refuse?" Draco spat, the anger coursing through his veins causing him to tremble. Theo paused—briefly—to assess his response. A pensive look overwhelmed his cruel features, and for a moment he almost looked human. Almost.

"Then I make sure the same thing that happened to dear Mummy Malfoy last time occurs again," He said simply, shrugging. When he noticed the fear that flickered across Draco's icy grey eyes, he smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "And this time, I won't stop."

"You wouldn't," Draco contradicted, a bit too brazen. Theo leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing as he made sure that Draco's attention was fixated on him.

"Try me, Malfoy."

Draco, not wanting to cause further confrontation—mostly because he knew what Nott was capable of these days, what with his underground power and all—stiffly stood from his seat, backing away. He had his hand on the rusty doorknob and was twisting it when Theodore cleared his throat, beckoning that Draco turn to face him one last time.

"The end of the six months, correct, Malfoy?" Theo called out, rummaging in one of his drawers.

There was a long pause as Draco contemplated his answer. Finally, he cleared his throat and managed to nod once.

"Six months."