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 20

That night Oliver didn't sleep at all. Instead he was found pacing the floor of the Gryffindor common room, muttering to himself. Harry and Ron had already entered the common room and shared some threatening words with Oliver, as they had heard about the situation from Fred and George.

It was nearing breakfast time when Hermione emerged from the girls' dorm and walked down the stairs. She carried a bag slung across her shoulders. She planned to do some research in the library before going to breakfast that morning.

She halted mid-step, however, once she saw that Oliver stood pacing in front of the fire. There was no way she would be able to leave unnoticed. Squaring her shoulders, Hermione decided it didn't matter anyway as she was done with Oliver.

She walked smoothly down the last few steps before moving to walk past the fire. Oliver, hearing the commotion, turned towards her sharply. It suddenly seemed to Hermione that she couldn't breathe and, from the look on Oliver's face, neither could he.

"Hermione," he choked out hoarsely. He made to move towards her but stopped at her disapproving glare.

"Wood," she greeted coolly. She raised an eyebrow as Wood gestured around himself helplessly.

"Hermione, I need think we need to talk." Hermione shook her head and edged towards the portrait hole.

"I can't. I've got work to do, Wood. Besides, we've nothing to talk about remember?" Apparently he didn't because, before Hermione could blink, he stood before her. He placed his hands on her hers and pulled her towards the couch. Before Hermione knew it, she was sitting side by side with Oliver. Her hand was still in his and he was gently rubbing his thumb across her hand a bit distractedly.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I was stupid to do what I did and I really don't know how I'm going to fix this." Hermione stared at Wood with an open mouth. He didn't seem to notice this, however, so he kept talking. He apologized nervously over and over again before Hermione, livid with anger, stopped him.

"Wood," she said through tight lips. "I'm tired, okay. I'm tired of everything." Oliver watched with wide eyes as Hermione pulled her hand from his and stood. She paced as she continued speaking. It was evident that she was upset. "We couldn't be together."

"Why?" Wood asked jumping to his feet. His brows were furrowed and he looked angry, but Hermione ignored him.

"We wouldn't work. You change too much," Hermione rattled off excuses as fast as her mouth would allow. Wood shook his head.

"I lost my memory! Of course I was going to change."

"For crying out loud, Wood, you just told me that you didn't want me! You just said that you were too young to be tied down! What in Merlin's name made you change your mind so quickly?" Wood had barely opened his mouth to explain when Hermione continued. "You're too fickle. You don't know what you want and I'm not going to be a part of it. I mean, Draco and I have a better chance of being together than the two of us."

Hermione stopped speaking and looked to Oliver not missing how white he'd become or how tightly he'd gripped his hands into fists. He was angry with her and it broke Hermione's heart to know that she was pushing him away. He'd hurt her the night before and she realized that being with him would only open her heart to more of that pain. She didn't like it.

"Hermione," Wood tried again through tight lips. "We can work. I promise you that we can work, but you'll just have to trust me." Hermione shook her head sadly.

"Been there, done that." She turned from Oliver and moved towards the portrait hole.

"Is there anyway that you'll trust me again?" Wood called out to her before she left. Hermione turned to look at him.

"Yeah. You burned it, remember?"


"Okay, you're going to do what?" Ginny asked as she trailed after Lavender that morning. They had awoken to find Hermione had already gone off somewhere, presumably to the library, so they had decided to head on down to breakfast.

"I'm going to lock Wood and Hermione in a closet until they sort their feelings out," Lavender said as though it were the cleverest plan in the world. Ginny stared with an open mouth.

"It's been done," she told Lavender when she could speak. "Besides, Hermione would find a way around any locking charm you placed." Lavender paused as she thought.

"I guess you're right." She continued walking cheerfully.

"So what's plan B?" Ginny asked eagerly, hoping that there was some solution to the Oliver/Hermione problem. Lavender shrugged.

"What plan B?" Ginny stared at Lavender, completely awestruck.

"You mean to tell me you've got a plan A without a plan B? What if plan A didn't work?"

"Then I'd move to plan C," Lavender replied simply. Ginny stared at Lavender in confusion as they entered the great hall.

"What's plan C?"

"Don't know, didn't get that far yet." Ginny smacked her forehead to her hand.

"Why?" she mumbled painfully. "Why is she my brother's girlfriend?"


Hermione sat in the library reading the same page over for the tenth time, when she sighed and pushed the book away from her. She couldn't concentrate, not with Oliver on her mind. She placed her hands in her pocket and felt an envelope that she'd gotten at breakfast that morning. She hadn't opened it yet, so she pulled it out of her pocket and did so. Her eyes widened at what she read.

Hermione,

I want to thank you for your help. I know you still don't believe I love you, but I do. I just want you to keep that in mind when that bungling Oaf you call a boyfriend disappoints.

I've been ordered to find a pureblooded girlfriend. I doubt I'll follow through with this order, but I wanted you to know that if I do, that's all it is.

I hope that one day, I'll actually be able to talk to you without endangering you or your loved ones.

I'm going to end this letter now because being this sentimental makes me nauseous. I may not be a death eater but I'm still a Slytherin.

With love,

Draco

P.S.

I don't expect an answer to this letter.