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).

AN: the final chapter is coming soon!

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

Chapter 21

Hermione stared open mouthed at the letter. She read and reread it over and over again, not willing to believe what she held in her hands. Draco had woken up today still carrying feelings for her. It had been real. He did feel something for her.

"I can't believe this," she whispered still staring at the letter. Then, without warning, she reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill, and ink.


Draco walked down the halls of Hogwarts towards Professor Dumbledore's office. He took his time, striding slowly, so that he wouldn't get there too soon. He took in the sight of the school and realized the gothic beauty of the castle for the first time. The stone walls, the stained glass windows, and the glowering statues all added to the castles' amazing architectural structure.

Before Draco knew it, he stood in front of the gargoyle that led into Dumbledore's office. He opened his mouth to try a number of passwords so that he could get in, when the gargoyle moved quickly out of his way. Draco sighed to himself and entered the stairway leading to Dumbledore's office. He knew his father was there, waiting for him. Waiting to train him into becoming Voldemort's next lap dog.

Draco sighed longingly once again as he thought of Hermione and what she was doing. Whether or not she'd gotten his letter and whether or not she'd write back. Then, with the superiority of a Malfoy, he straightened his back, placed his trademark sneer in place, and began to reclaim the role given to him at birth. The role of a future Death Eater.


Hermione smiled as she finished the letter. She placed it in her robe and stood. She had begun collecting her things when she heard someone walk up behind her. The scent of fresh pine and honey filled her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It was a smell she hadn't smelled in a long time. Oliver's favorite cologne. At that thought, Hermione opened her eyes and turned around sharply to see Oliver staring intensely down at her.

"Hermione," he breathed heavily. "We need to talk. I can't keep doing this." Hermione looked down at the floor to give herself time to recover from the scent of Oliver and the intense need to kiss him. When she looked back up at him ice covered her eyes and any emotion she had felt before controlling herself.

"Speak," she said coolly turning from him to sit back down at her table. She smiled mockingly up at him as she propped her feet up on another chair and awaited his words expectantly. Oliver frowned at her as he went to take a seat across from her. He reached across the table and pulled her hands into his, expecting her to pull them away in disgust. Instead she just left them there and continued to look to him expectantly.

"Well, Hermione I think we should talk about what's happened to us," Oliver said honestly. He stared into Hermione's eyes, hoping for some sort of flicker or warmth but got none. "When we started this, we had a contract."

"Yes and it was destroyed," Hermione told him dully. "Look Oliver, we started this whole thing to keep each other from dealing with unwanted suitors. We're home free, everyone still thinks we're dating and school's almost over. All we have to do is keep the rumor going. I don't even think we have to be seen together anymore." Oliver shook his head.

"That's not the point!" Oliver said loudly only to be shushed by the librarian. He nodded respectfully towards the older woman before turning to Hermione with a softer tone. "Look, I want to be seen with you. I want to be with you. Hermione, I really, really like you and if you would be honest with yourself, you'd admit that you like me too." Hermione opened her mouth but was interrupted by Oliver. "Just please, please give me a chance."

"I gave you a chance Oliver," Hermione responded softly. She was looking at the table allowing all her concentration to go into counting the rings of the wood. "I gave you a chance and you burned it. You burned me. I don't know how to handle this. I do like you, okay? You know I do, but trust is very important and it's obvious that you don't trust me." Oliver hung his head.

"I'm so sorry," he told her sadly. "I'm a prat and I know it. Hermione, as much as we like each other, we should work this out. I've never felt this way about a girl before. I've never felt so strongly that I would fight for her against another guy," he looked up and took one of his hands to Hermione's chin, lifting it gently. "Or against herself."