The Contract

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in anyway, shape, or form (though I wish I did because J. K. Rowling has to be one of the richest people in the world by now).

Special Thanks to: Everyone! I really enjoyed reading your review(s)

Chapter 17

Malfoy made his way to the Slytherin common room aware that Crabbe and Goyle had found and followed him somewhere along the way. He entered the room and made his way over to the water container. He poured himself a drink and went into the private room allowed to him by professor Snape. The miracle of money.

He knew he'd just conceded defeat to Wood by stopping himself from going after

Hermione. A lot of what she had said rang true. He did believe that she could save him from his father, Voldemort, and himself, but he knew that a lot of that was up to him.

Hermione had been right to suggest that he was feeling romantically for her because of what he thought she could do. His feelings had started around the time he began thinking of his life. Hermione was everything good and pure while his whole world was contaminated. With her he knew that he'd be safe, but with him…

Giving her up was the hardest thing he'd done yet, but once he'd started thinking, he'd realized that it was for the best. Having Hermione by his side would make a target. She'd be a target for 'turning' him, a target for 'changing' him, and a target for stopping him from becoming Voldemort's most powerful lapdog.

Draco snorted as he collapsed onto his bed. He buried his face into his pillows, remembering Hermione's soft skin and wishing that he stood a chance.

Even though she thought he liked her because she could save him, he knew better. He loved Hermione because she was herself. There was something that drew him to her and he knew, without a doubt, that, even if he wasn't in danger of becoming his father, he would still want to be with her. He'd still love her. Now if only she could love him.


Hermione made her way back to the common room alone. She'd long since sent Harry and Ron ahead of her to dinner, but she hadn't felt like eating. When they'd shown up, like they'd known her distress, she hadn't even questioned them. She didn't care. All that had mattered to her was that they'd shown up. That they were there to comfort her.

She sighed as she entered the common room. It was empty, as she had predicted. Everyone was out to dinner and, thankfully, she was alone.

Hermione made her way over to the fire and settled herself in one of the chairs. She glanced over the other chair and the couch in front of the fire and almost jumped out of her skin.

Oliver Wood sat on the couch staring aimlessly into the fire. He hadn't even noticed Hermione yet. Hermione bit her lip as she wrestled with herself, wondering whether or not she should talk to him and explain what he'd seen in the library. The choice was taken from her when Oliver jerked, as though shaking himself of unwanted thoughts, and looked over at her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked lowly. He frowned at her, as though her presence was not wanted.

"Oliver, we need to talk," Hermione told him softly. He smiled wistfully at her before lowering his head. Hermione saw his shoulders shake a few times before he looked up at her. When he did so, she could see traces of the old Oliver. The cocky smile was on his face as well as the arrogant glint in his eyes. He leaned back against the couch and spread his arms on either side of it. He leaned his head back and looked at Hermione expectantly.

"Oliver," Hermione said with a pained frown. "Don't do this." He shrugged.

"Do what?"

"This. Don't push me away." Oliver laughed.

"That's a good one. Why would I need to push you away? It's not like we like each other or anything, right?" Hermione frowned.

"Right," she said slowly before she knew what she was doing. Oliver smiled brightly.

"Right. Now, seeing as how you and Malfoy are an item," Oliver said pulling out a familiar stack of papers. "I think we should do away with this." Before Hermione could react, Oliver threw the papers into the fire and watched them burn.

"Wha-? Why?" Hermione whispered breathlessly.

"There," Oliver said almost too cheerfully. "Now you've no tie to me at all."