Later that evening
Hermione slumped listlessly in her chair. Her face felt swollen from weeping and her head throbbed. Her mind ran overtime as Pansy's cruel comments reverberated repeatedly.
"Draco is mine… We've been betrothed since we were children… he doesn't have any use for you any more… Part of him just itched to debase himself by putting his pureblood cock in your mudblood pussy, just to see what you're like…"
She had rushed home, confused and fraught. The emotions Pansy's words had triggered had been powerful; so powerful Hermione was shocked by their depth. They had only been properly dating for a month - why was she so upset? Surely she didn't have such strong feelings for him yet?
But, undeniably, she felt heartbroken. The sting of betrayal had hit deep, reaching right down to her core. She was all cried out, but her chest still occasionally hitched. She had no idea what she was going to do. Hermione knew she should confront Draco directly, seek his reassurance that Pansy's claims were false and she had nothing to worry about, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.
The logical part of her brain, usually so vocal and at the forefront of her thinking, had retreated into a dark corner of her mind under the onslaught of her emotions and refused to come out. Her desire to think logically was being overwhelmed by the sinking feeling that, far from being a complete fabrication, Pansy's claims may well hold some truth.
"Come on, now, Logic. Out you come. It's time to apply some reason to this situation," she chided herself.
"NO!" logical Hermione cried. "What if Pansy was right? What if Emotions is the one being reasonable?"
"That's right," agreed emotional Hermione. "You stay right where you are, Logic. Let me handle this."
"But what if Pansy is lying?" Hermione argued with her two mental counterparts.
"What if she isn't?" retorted emotional Hermione.
"Exactly!" wailed logical Hermione. "That's not something I'm equipped to deal with!"
"Well, we shouldn't be jumping to conclusions! We should be attempting to stay calm and get some answers, first!" Hermione pointed out valiantly.
"Don't you go listening to her, Logic," said emotional Hermione, firmly. "This isn't the time to go asking questions, this is the time to second guess every single moment and verbal exchange we've shared with him since he came back into our lives!"
Logical Hermione was nodding in agreement. "You're absolutely right, Emotions. I'm going to leave this situation in your capable hands." With that, she retreated even further into the dark corner she had wedged herself into.
Hermione groaned and dropped her head into her hands. It was hopeless. She wasn't going to be able to take a step back from the situation and look at it objectively; she was far too emotionally invested for that. She just wished she knew how she had come to be so attached to Draco in such a short time. It was ridiculous. Even when she was with Ron, her feelings for him had grown slowly over years. And Viktor - the two of them had enjoyed a brief fling, but her feelings for him had never grown beyond a fondness for his company and the physical attraction they had shared.
Standing, she decided she would make herself a cup of tea. She wobbled and limped slightly as she made her way to the kitchen - she had been curled up in that chair for far too long, and her legs had gone to sleep. She thought about eating and her stomach roiled. No, she didn't think she could stand food right now.
Placing the kettle on the hob and turning up the flame, Hermione sighed She wished she could talk to someone, but who? Her friends, though more or less tolerant of the fact she had been dating Draco (Ron being the exception), didn't really understand what she saw in him. Truth be told, a big part of the reason she was hesitant to confide in them was that she was worried they would look at her with that pitying expression that said, Well, we could have said 'I told you so' - what did you expect from a snake like Draco Malfoy?
She was just pouring hot water from the recently boiled kettle when her floo chimed, followed by the roar of flames, and Hermione jumped so much she splashed scalding water over her hand.
"FUCK! Fuckfuckfuck!" she hissed, dancing around in pain and shaking her hand.
"Hermione?" came a hesitant voice, and her heart skittered in nervous fear. Double fuck. It was Malfoy.
He came slowly into the kitchen, eyeing her carefully as if she might jinx him. She considered it, then decided she was too busy trying to keep her stomach from jumping up and clogging her throat shut to be capable.
Draco then seemed to spy her hand. "What did you do to yourself?" he asked, concern in his grey eyes. Stepping forward, he reached for her, but Hermione flinched back. She didn't miss the hurt that flashed across his features at her reaction.
"Your hand… you need to put something on that," he pointed out lamely.
Glancing down, Hermione examined her hand, which was swollen and had turned an angry red. She could see blisters starting to form. Stepping back to the sink, she turned on the cold water and stuck her hand under it, sighing in relief at the cooling sensation.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked, frowning in confusion.
Hermione paused momentarily before answering quietly, "This is the muggle treatment for superficial burns. Running it under cold water slows the burning process, reducing the damage, and numbs the area which provides temporary pain relief."
"And how long must you hold your hand under the water?"
"As long as possible." She sighed.
"That seems terribly inefficient. Not to mention a waste of water," Draco replied softly. Taking his wand in hand, he stepped forward again. "Let me take care of it." When she recoiled again, his expression became pained. "Please," he implored.
Silently, Hermione held out her injured hand, turning off the tap with the other. Draco examined the burn. "I'm not sure a healing spell will completely fix this," he muttered. "You may need to apply a burn paste as well. Do you have any?" she nodded, and Draco waved his wand over her hand. "Episkey."
The redness and swelling immediately began to reduce, although the blisters did not fade away completely.
Draco sighed. "Pansy came around this afternoon and said…"
Hermione, remembering with a painful jolt the reason she had been in such a state all afternoon, stepped away from him once more.
"Pansy?" she hissed. "So it's true? You're with her?"
"No! No. I'm not with Pansy!" Draco replied hurriedly, his hands held out placatingly.
"So you're not betrothed to her? She was lying?" Hermione's heart thudded painfully in her chest as her hopes began to climb.
"Well…" Draco looked down at his hands in shame and discomfort, and the bloom of hope that had been growing inside Hermione violently exploded.
She turned quickly to the sink, sure she was about to power chuck everywhere. Thankfully, the sensation passed after a few moments, although she could feel Draco hovering uncertainty over her shoulder.
"Hermione—I—if I could just explain—" he stammered desperately.
"Explain? Explain?" she screeched. "What could there possibly be to explain? You're betrothed to someone else. You have been this whole time!" Her tears began to flow for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon, and she was distantly bemused that her body was capable of producing any more fluid.
"Did it never occur to you when you were pursuing me," she bit out as she struggled to keep herself under control, "to mention that you were destined to marry someone else?"
"That's—I—" Draco stuttered, but Hermione kept going, talking over him.
"How could you possibly enter into a relationship with me, knowing full well it would go nowhere? Did you honestly think—" her eyes widened in horror as a truly awful thought, unbidden, jumped into her mind. "Surely—were you just setting me up to be your mistress?"
She turned toward the sink again, sure that this time she really was about to vomit, and actually dry-retched before she managed to get her stomach under control. Turning the cold tap on again, she splashed water on her face, trying to banish the heat on her cheeks.
"Hermione, please believe me," Draco begged. "No, I wasn't setting you up to be my mistress. I didn't intend to hide this from you—I thought this whole arrangement was in the past!"
"In the past?" Hermione scoffed. "Betrothals don't just fade away on their own, Malfoy."
"Her father declared he wouldn't allow her to marry into a family that had been so shamed. He said it after the Wizengamot trials!" Draco tried vainly to explain.
"Was the arrangement ever officially called off?" Hermione demanded.
Draco thought back to Pansy's mocking words earlier that afternoon. "...our parents also never officially undid the contract to unbind us. And now both your parents are dead and can't undo anything."
"No." he admitted, hanging his head in defeat.
"Then," Hermione said, sniffing sadly, "I guess we have nothing more to say to each other."
"Hermione… please…" Draco begged.
"Goodbye, Malfoy," Hermione said with finality, turning her back on him. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold back the tsunami of emotion that threatened to overflow.
"I'm sorry," Draco whispered. She heard him turn, heard his footsteps fade away, heard the roar of the floo as he left.
Unable to hold back any longer, Hermione dropped to the floor and wailed in abject despair.
Draco stepped back into the foyer of Malfoy manor and ran to his study. Frantically digging through his liquor cabinet, he came up with a single bottle containing a mere third of firewhiskey. That wasn't nearly enough. He needed more. He needed to forget.
He ran through the wing he used, tearing rooms apart, hunting for another bottle, any bottle. Finally, finding nothing, he stormed purposefully into the part of the manor his father had frequented and opened the door leading to the elder Malfoy's study. As desperate as he was for escape, he could not bring himself to cross the threshold and physically search the room.
"Accio firewhiskey!" he cried, and a nearly-full bottle flew into his hand. Spinning on his heel, Draco ran back to his own study. When he arrived, he flung himself behind his desk and spun off the cap from the bottle he had taken from Lucius' study, gulping a mouthful of the liquid.
He gasped as the alcohol burned its way down his throat and into his stomach, before bringing the bottle to his lips again and again. It took him some time to notice he was sobbing.
"Fuck, fuck!" he screamed, slamming his fists down on the desktop. "Fucking Pansy, fucking contracts, fuck it all!"
"Language, language," tsked a voice, and Draco looked up. Mirror-Draco was back, wearing the customary sneer it always used when it showed up to mock him.
"I knew you'd screw it up sooner or later," mirror-Draco drawled lazily. "Sweet Morgana, you can't do anything right, can you?"
"I was trying!" Draco screamed back. "Fucking Pansy! She had to come in and ruin everything!"
"I hardly think it's fair to blame her," reasoned mirror-Draco. "She was quite correct when she pointed out the contract was never officially undone. And now you're stuck with her. And you've lost Hermione. The one good thing you had. I knew it would happen eventually." Mirror-Draco smirked crulley.
Draco didn't answer. He drew back his arm to throw the bottle at the mirror, then realised what he was about to do and drank from it instead before aiming his wand at his monstrous reflection. "Bombarda!" he snarled, and the entire wall was blasted forcefully away, plaster and wood flying in all directions.
Leaning back in his chair, gasping as a physical pain bloomed in his chest and spread outwards, Draco desperately clung to the already half-empty bottle in his hands. "Who says I'm stuck with that Parkinson bitch?" he growled, contemplating as he drank.
Soon, he came to a decision. He stood and stumbled unsteadily out the door, tripping over the remnants of the wall on his way out, and down the hallway, heading for the stairs which would take him to the east tower.
Pria came running as he began his slow ascent. "Master, what is you doing?" she cried, horrified. "The wall is exploded, there be bits everywhere, you is drinking again! What has happened? Please let Pria help!"
"N'one c'n help me any more, Pria," Draco slurred, taking another swig of the bottle. "He'min'e's gone. I fucked it up. She doesn' want me any'mre."
"Miss Hermie is upset with Master?"
"She foun' out abou' the marr'ge contrac', Pria. Is over."
The elf gasped. "Master Malfoy will fix this! Miss Hermie will come back!"
Draco shook his head slowly. "She won', Pria. She made tha' qui' clear."
"Master Malfoy. Give Pria the bottle." The little elf instructed firmly, standing in front of him to bar his way. "Pria will get you a potion and put you to bed."
"No!" Draco argued. "No Pria, I won't. Le'mme 'lone. Please." Another drink. He swayed on his feet.
"Please, Master!" Pria tried to grab the bottle, but Draco snatched it away.
"I order you t' lea' me be!" Draco insisted.
"Please don't, Master!" Pria squeaked, her eyes wide.
"Yes! Lea' me be. Tha' is an order, Pria!"
The small elf was pushed back by the force of the magic invoked by her master's order. Unable to do anything more to stop Draco, she was forced back as he continued his precarious journey up the stairs.
Eyes welling with tears, the terrified elf watched him go before abruptly disappearing from the Manor.
Theo was sitting in his study when he heard a pop. Glancing around, he was shocked to see a shaking and hysterical elf standing before him.
"Pria?" he said, frowning. "What's wrong? What's happened?"
"Please! Please hurry, Mister Nott! There be no time to explain, it be Master! He be drunk and going toward the east tower!"
"What?" Theo stood quickly. "Take me, Pria." He commanded, and the elf quickly took his sleeve and pulled him away from the Nott home and toward Malfoy Manor.
Arriving on the top floor, Theo sprinted toward the entrance to the tower. He remembered it well - once, he and Draco had dared each other to launch their brooms from the edge of the small balcony jutting over the ground. They had just been about to jump together when Narcissa had found them. She had had been most upset, insisting they could easily have missed their footing and plummeted to their deaths.
Breathing hard and with his heart feeling like it was about to explode through his chest, Theo burst through the archway leading to the balcony, seeing a shadowy figure ahead of him climbing unsteadily onto the wide stone rail.
"DRACO, NO! STOP!" he roared.
Draco had made his way to the tower. Stumbling out to the balcony, he stared listlessly out at the darkness before looking over the railing at the hard ground below. Disjointedly regarding the bottle in his hand, which now had only a splash of the liquid remaining, he dangled it over the edge before opening his hand and letting it drop. He watched, fascinated, as it tumbled end over end, seeming to fall forever, before finally striking the ground and shattering.
From this height, the tinkling of the glass as it exploded seemed small and unimportant. That will be me in a few moments, he thought to himself. He felt a sense of peace wash over him at the thought of tumbling gently as the bottle had a moment before, and held onto the wall so he could step up onto the stone rail.
"INCARCEROUS!" Theo bellowed. Ropes shot from his outstretched wand and bound Draco tightly. "Accio Draco!" The drunken blond wizard was pulled away from the rail, his bound body plowing into Theo's and knocking them both to the floor.
Pushing the blond man off him, Theo sat up. Pria came running up to them, sobbing. "Oh, Master! Why? Why?" she wailed.
"Yes, good question. Why, Draco? What the hell's gotten into you?" Theo's heart sank as he realised something must have gone rather spectacularly wrong between him and Hermione. "Tell me what happened." He released the binds, but cautiously, allowing Draco some movement.
Draco shook his head slowly and struggled into a sitting position, swaying gently and staring blearily at his friend. "S'no use, Theo. S' hopeless. Wh'a I'm doin' here? S'posed to be out there." He gestured vaguely toward the balcony.
"No you bloody well aren't!" Theo snapped, angrily. "You were climbing up on the balcony, Draco! You could have killed yourself!"
"Was th'idea." Grumbled Draco. "Got t'escape Pansy."
"Pansy? What does she have to do with all this?" Theo asked, confused.
"Con-" Suddenly, Draco gagged and vomited down himself, attempting to prop himself up on one wobbly arm. The effort of emptying his stomach seemed to drain him of his tenuous hold on consciousness and, having finished, Draco passed out and slid bonelessly to the floor.
Theo caught Draco as he fell, guiding his body down in such a way that he wouldn't land in the puddle of vomit and positioning him on his side.
Sighing harshly, he slid a hand down over his face. "Can you clean him up and put him to bed please, Pria?"
The elf nodded, clicking her fingers to vanish the mess from the floor and her master's clothes then sending him down to his room.
Theo stood up and made his way through the house to Draco's chambers, accompanied by Pria. The two regarded the blond man sadly as he lay sprawled on his bed. Even with all the alcohol in his system, Draco did not rest easy, instead muttering and frowning in his sleep.
"Do you know what triggered this, Pria?" Theo asked the elf softly.
Pria sniffed. "Master came back and went to old Master's study to search for firewhiskey. He drank and drank and exploded the wall."
Theo frowned. "Went to?—You mean he went to Lucius' study?" Pria nodded. "But he hasn't gone to that part of the manor since Voldemort was defeated." Pausing, he added, "What do you mean, he 'exploded the wall?'"
"Master argued with the mirror again, then cast a spell. It made a dreadful mess."
"Something really bad must have happened," Theo muttered. "What else did Draco do today?"
"Master went to Hogwarts to see the headmistress. While he was out, there was a most unwelcome intrusion from the Parkinson Miss."
"Young Parkinson...? You mean Pansy? Pansy was here? Why?"
"Master came home and the Parkinson Miss insisted she and the Master must marry, because they were still betrothed."
Realisation dawned, and Theo slumped. "Shit."
"The Parkinson Miss told Master she told Miss Hermie about the marriage contract," Pria added. "Master was very angry."
"She what?" Theo fumed. "Has Draco attempted to speak to Hermione?" He very much feared it had been bad and was part of the reason Draco had been in the state Theo had found him in.
Pria nodded. "Master tried. I think Miss Hermie and Master is having a most disastrous falling out."
Theo shook his head. "Keep a close eye on him tonight. He probably won't wake, but come and get me if he does. I'll try and talk to him in the morning."
"Would Mister Nott like to take one of the guest bedrooms?" Pria invited, and Theo tiredly nodded his thanks.
Pria wordlessly indicated Theo should follow, and let him to a room down the hall. He bid the elf goodnight before wearily getting undressed and sliding beneath the covers, his mind racing.
Draco slowly regained consciousness. He was in his bed, fully clothed, and… alive? That didn't seem right.
Rolling to his side, he tried to open his eyes and take in his surroundings.
"Master?" a voice said softly.
"P—" Draco licked his lips, attempting to push words past his impossibly dry mouth. "Pria? Izzat you?"
"Yes Master. You must drink this." Draco felt a cool liquid on his tongue. He recognized the taste of a hangover potion and swallowed slowly, then laid himself down carefully as he waited for it to take effect.
Half-focused images from last night swam in his pickled mind. He remembered… arguing with mirror-Draco and—had he really cast a bombarda on the wall? Arguing with Pria as he made his way upstairs. Climbing unsteadily onto the balcony railing, anticipating a release from his caged thoughts and then… he covered his eyes with a shaking hand, trying to recall.
He had been stepping up onto the railing, yes. But then… someone had shouted and before he could react, he had been…. bound and flying backwards? Try as he might, Draco could not recall anything beyond the vague recollection of flying through the air, flying in the opposite direction as he had wanted to go.
From there, the events of the previous day prior to the drinking came slamming back with force, so strong he gasped with the pain. Pansy appearing, triumphantly telling him about how she had confronted Hermione. Him rushing over to Hermione's flat, asking, begging her to just hear him out, please, to let him explain, and being banished from her presence.
Rolling onto his side and clutching his pillow, Draco pressed the fabric to his face and screamed in frustration and grief. Why was he alive? Who had interfered, and why hadn't they just left him to plunge off the tower?
"Draco?" a hesitant voice came from his doorway.
He ignored it. Of course it would be Theo, he thought resignedly. Bastard's always trying to save me from something.
"Draco," Theo spoke again, this time more firmly, as he stepped into the room. "I need you to tell me in detail what happened last night. Pria mentioned Pansy and the marriage contract, but I need you to fill in the rest."
Draco remained obstinately silent, turning his back on his friend.
"Don't make me use legilimency, Draco. I'll do it, you know I will," Theo threatened.
Theo's skills in legilimency were legendary, rivalling Severus Snape's. Although Draco was accomplished in occlumency, it took a great deal of focus when it was Theo trying to see into his mind, and Draco knew that in his current state he wouldn't have a hope in hell of keeping his friend out.
"Fine," he grumbled, though he kept his back to Theo. "Pansy sought out Hermione yesterday, and told her about our old marriage contract. I don't know exactly what she said, but knowing her it would have been unpleasant and cruel. Then she showed up here, going on as if the marriage were still going ahead. She wouldn't leave, so I had Pria banish her."
"And you tried to talk to Hermione about it, afterwards?" Theo prompted gently.
Draco gave a shuddering sigh. "I tried and failed. I wanted to explain, to apologise, but she didn't want to hear it. I broke her heart, Theo."
At this, the blond wizard finally rolled over to face his closest friend, his grey eyes full of sadness. "I broke her heart, and it's killed a piece of me. I've lost Hermione, and I'm trapped with Pansy who has seemingly decided she wants to force this contract after all, and I'd rather just not carry on any more."
"But," Theo countered, "didn't old man Parkinson say he didn't want Pansy marrying into the Malfoy family after you all went through the trials before the Wizengamot?"
"He did." Draco sighed. "But our families never officially undid the contract."
"Oh, fuck," Theo whispered, as the implications dawned on him. "And now you need a senior family member to undo it from the Malfoy side, or the contract will stand."
"Yup," Draco agreed flatly. "Why didn't you just let me jump, Theo?" he added accusingly.
"Because you're my friend, and I don't want to see you take your own life!" Theo ground out in frustration. "We'll find a way out of this, I swear!"
"You and I both know there's no way out." Draco sighed tiredly. "Magical law states it cannot be undone unless a senior family member from each house adds their magical signature to the unbinding, and, as Pansy so kindly pointed out, I don't have any of those."
"We'll find a way," Theo repeated determinedly.
Theo spent the rest of the morning owling anyone he could think of who was well-versed in magical contracts and the various ways of unbinding them. In between, he kept a close eye on Draco. Although he had now sobered up and was feeling few ill-effects from the alcohol he had imbibed the night before, his depression had spiraled so deeply Theo was genuinely concerned for his friend's safety.
He wanted to find Pansy and wring her neck, but at the same time he did not want to leave Draco unattended. He owled Blaise instead, and asked him to find her and try and convince her to leave Draco alone, and to try and gauge whether the senior Parkinson was still adverse to the marriage or if he was somehow involved in Pansy's sudden interest.
In the meantime, he read over the owls he received back, losing a little hope each time a reply was received. They all said the same thing. With this type of contract, there is no way to undo it but to have members of both families senior to the betrothed apply their magical signatures. If a suitable person cannot be found to represent Mister Malfoy, he will be unable to wed another as he his magically bound to Miss Parkinson.
When Blaise returned in the afternoon, he wasn't able to bring any better news. His conversation with Pansy had gone badly, and his conversation with Parkinson Senior was not much improved on the one before.
"Why did you go and confront Granger like that?" Blaise asked.
Pansy glowered. "He's still betrothed to me! I just wanted him to remember that!"
"And simultaneously upsetting Granger and destroying his relationship had nothing at all to do with your actions?" Blaise challenged.
Sniffing contemptuously, Pansy admitted, "Well, she's only a mudblood. Who cares?"
"HE cares, Pansy, you stupid woman!" Blaise argued. "You've never wanted Draco before this. You've been quite content to travel all over the world, having numerous flings with rich wizards, until now! What changed?"
"It's because it's Granger, okay!" Pansy burst out. "I hate her, that smug mudblood bitch thinks she's smarter than all of us!"
"She's certainly a shitload smarter than you," Blaise snorted contemptuously. "But that's not her fault."
"Why are you defending her?" Pansy screeched in frustration. "You hated her as much as we did! You used to be a blood purist!"
Blaise shook his head in exasperation. "You know I'm not a pureblood, right? I'm just rich. And I'm rich because my mother had a fondness for wealthy wizards who have a tendency to meet untimely deaths. Besides, I like Granger. She's clever, and witty, and she is one hell of a force if you cross her."
"But—" Pansy stuttered.
"You know, I never did buy into that bullshit you lot kept spouting," Blaise said thoughtfully. "But I played the part so I could remain in the inner circle and in the know."
"You scheming arsehole!" Pansy growled.
"Look who's talking." Blaise smirked. He stood. "Just stay away from Draco, Pansy. And Hermione. Leave them both alone. Remember what I said earlier about Granger being a force to be reckoned with. I've seen her in action."
Pansy paled slightly, but attempted to maintain her bravado. "She won't do anything to me! She wouldn't dare!" the witch snarled.
"Whatever. I'm going." Blaise turned, and without another word headed off to find Parkinson Senior.
"Mr Zabini, what can I do for you?" the older wizard said in greeting.
"I want to speak with you about the marriage contract between Pansy and Draco Malfoy," Blaise stated, getting straight to the point,
Parkinson snorted. "That old thing? I declared Pansy would never marry into that family after they were shamed at the Wizengamot trials."
"I'm aware of that, sir. But you and Draco's parents never officially undid the contract, did you?"
Frowning, Parkinson hummed in thought. "Now that you mention it, we didn't. Lucius died in prison and then I put it to the back of my mind. And Narcissa died last year, didn't she?"
"That's correct, sir."
"So what do you want me to do about it now?"
Blaise swallowed. "Draco has met another witch—"
"That mudblood I read about in the Prophet?" Parkinson snorted.
"She is muggleborn, yes," Blaise bit out. "I'm hoping to find a way to undo the contract and free him officially from his obligation to Pansy."
"Don't expect me to help," Parkinson grumbled uncharitably. "I'm not going to make any effort. Not for the Malfoy boy, and certainly not for some mudblood."
Blaise took a deep breath, resisting the strong urge to hex the bigoted old bastard.
"Pansy is just as tied to this contract as Draco," he pointed out instead. "If we can't find a way to break it, she will not be able to wed another, either."
Parkinson sat back in his chair, considering. "I'm not going to help. But I'll think on the matter."
Knowing that was the best response he was going to get, Blaise nodded and excused himself, leaving the Parkinson home and heading back to Malfoy manor so he could report to Theo.
Theo ran his hands through his hair in frustration as Blaise finished describing his less-than-successful meeting with the Parkinsons. "I don't know what else to do, but we'll keep looking. There has to be something."
November 9th
Hermione's floo chimed. She looked disinterestedly up from the couch to see Harry step through.
"Oh. Hey, Harry," she greeted flatly.
"Hermione! Come on, Ginny's in labour! She needs you! You have to get out of this funk!"
Hermione had confined herself to her flat ever since her final confrontation with Draco, feeling unable to face going to work or out in public. She felt like the biggest fool in the world, thinking Malfoy genuinely cared for her when really he was promised to another and just… just what? What had he been thinking? Had he ever truly cared about her? The thoughts swirled endlessly around her head with such fervour that she often felt ill.
Her friends had, by turns, attempted to coax her out of the safety of her flat over the past few days. After a day of attempting to deal with her heartbreak on her own, Hermione had finally caved and called for Ginny. The red-headed witch had wanted to head straight to the Manor and curse the blond wizard into oblivion, but Hermione had begged her to stay with her, instead.
Ginny, despite Hermione's protestations, had told Harry, who had told Ron, Molly and the rest of the Weasleys. They had all rallied around her, and it had helped her slightly to hear their reassurances that they didn't judge her nor consider her a fool.
Ron, in his usual style, had been in favour of Ginny's original proposal but, uncharacteristically for him, had hugged Hermione and awkwardly said he would be there for her if she needed him. This had caused a flood of tears on her part, and Ron had been quite upset, thinking he had done something wrong as Hermione clung to him tightly and sobbed.
Now, though, Ginny needed Hermione. Harry was right, she needed to pull herself out of this funk and be there for her friends as they had been for her. She stood, and squaring her shoulders, said, "You're right, Harry. Just let me have a quick shower and change my clothes."
Hermione exited the room to carry out her ablutions, returning ten minutes later with a small bag. "I'm ready," she told Harry. Steeling herself, she stepped through the floo with Harry right behind her.
"You're nearly there, darling," Molly soothed. "A few more pushes and you'll be done."
"I can't!" Ginny wailed. She had been in active labour for over twenty hours and was exhausted.
"You can!" Hermione encouraged, holding her friend's hand. "You're strong, Ginny! You can do this!"
With a monumental effort, Ginny battled through the final contractions, pushing through each one, until finally an infant's cries filled the small room in the maternity ward of St Mungo's.
"You have a son!" The attending medi-witch beamed proudly. She quickly performed magical checks on the newborn before placing him on the exhausted but smiling Ginny and covering them both with a blanket.
"Congratulations, you two." Hermione gave a wobbly smile. Feeling the dam about to burst, she quickly excused herself and exited the room.
Rushing quickly down the hallway, she turned a corner and then slid down the wall as the tears began to flow again.
Why would the sight of Ginny and Harry smiling over their newborn son cause her so much pain? It's not like I was ever considering babies and marriage with Malfoy, she thought disgustedly to herself. I wasn't… was I?
She heard footsteps behind her and quickly wiped at her face.
"Hermione! Are you all right?" Harry was looking down at her with concern.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she croaked. "Just give me a moment to collect myself."
Instead of leaving her, Harry slid down the wall alongside and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "You really liked him, didn't you?"
"No!" she insisted vehemently. Harry just looked at her skeptically.
"Well… I don't know, Harry!" She wailed. "Maybe! I'm just so confused!"
"I know," Harry soothed, stroking her hair. "Did you ever try and find out more about the circumstances of this contract?"
Hermione shook her head mutely.
"Well, maybe we should."
"I know enough about magical marriage contracts to know they can't be easily broken," Hermione sniffed. "Even if I could easily forgive him, it wouldn't make any difference. He would still be bound to Pansy."
Harry sighed, knowing Hermione was probably right. She usually was.
"Are you up to coming back?" he asked softly. "I'd like you to meet James."
Hermione smiled softly. "Yes, I'd like that."
Standing, Harry assisted Hermione to her feet and together they made their way back to the birthing room.
November 15th
Draco wandered slowly into the sitting room, rubbing his eyes.
"Oh, you're up," Theo noted with some surprise. "How are you doing?"
"Have you found a way to get me out of this contract yet?" Draco asked rudely.
"Not yet." Theo sighed.
"Then I'm doing shit, same as I have been for however many days it's been now," Draco snapped in response, throwing himself down angrily on the couch.
"You should eat something," Theo prompted, ignoring Draco's miserable disposition.
"Why?" Draco countered flatly.
"Because you need to," Theo insisted. "You need to keep up your energy."
"Energy for what, Theo?" Draco hissed. "I don't exactly see myself venturing forth into the world any time soon." He considered. "Seeing as you lot keep hovering over me, maybe if I can avoid food long enough I'll die of hunger and be able to escape this shithole."
Theo groaned inwardly, trying not to show his frustration.
The first few days after he had stopped Draco jumping from the east tower had been fraught, with his friend attempting several more times to take his life. Theo had almost put Draco under an imperio at one point in an attempt to thwart his efforts.
After those first days, though, some of the fight had gone out of Draco and he had retreated instead to his bed, refusing to come out. The manor had been emptied of all traces of alcohol and anything else that could alter or befuddle the mind in an attempt to protect the devastated wizard from himself.
Only in the last few days had Draco made a slight improvement, venturing out of his room for short periods. However, he still refused to shower, eat or converse. He could be pushed to answer in short sentences, but if too much pressure was applied he would clam up and retreat back to his bed.
The room fell silent again as Theo went back to the paperwork he had bought with him. He was temporarily staying at the manor in order to help the elves keep an eye on Draco, and had arranged to work from home for a few weeks.
Suddenly an owl Theo didn't recognise flew through the window and made a loop around the room before spotting Draco and landing beside him. Draco's eyes slid sideways momentarily to glance at the bird hooting at him before he turned his unfocused gaze back toward the window the owl had entered from.
"I think you have a letter," Theo observed blandly.
"So?" muttered Draco. "What could it possibly say that would be of interest to me right now?"
"Well, if you open and read it, that question will be answered," Theo reasoned.
"Maybe later," Draco muttered.
The owl, sensing Draco was not going to retrieve the letter, nipped him on the arm and hooted in annoyance.
"Don't keep it waiting, Draco," Theo prompted.
"You open it, Theo." Draco half-lifted a hand in a disinterested wave. "Deal with whatever it is on my behalf."
Theo sighed quietly and stood, tracing the few steps to the couch. The owl regarded him for a moment before holding out its leg for him to untie the letter. Once he had done so, it nodded its head at him then flew across the room and perched on the curtain rail, clearly awaiting a reply.
"Are you sure you want me to open it, Drake?" Theo checked.
"Go ahead." Draco shrugged, and Theo turned back to the paper in his hand.
On the front, the single word 'Malfoy' was written in a messy scrawl Theo faintly recognised but could not place. Breaking the seal, he scanned the note quickly before exclaiming in surprise, "It's from Potter."
"Scarhead?" Draco snorted. "Why the hell would he be writing to me?"
"Malfoy," Theo read aloud.
"I can't believe I'm doing this, but I want to find out more about this contract. Maybe I can help.
I'm not doing this for you, understand. I'm doing this for Hermione, because she's miserable without you and I hate seeing my friend so broken.
Mordred will wait for your reply.
Harry Potter."
"What can Potty possibly do to help?" sniped Draco.
"I don't know. Let's ask him," Theo suggested.
"Whatever." Draco sighed.
Theo took that as an agreement and walked back to the desk, picking up a quill and piece of parchment.
Potter,
This is Theo writing on behalf of Malfoy. He's not in the state to be writing, or really talking, at the moment. But we would appreciate any additional help we can get in trying to find a way out of this cursed contract. Can you floo over? I'll get it opened up for you.
Theo Nott
Calling the owl - Mordred, he noted - Theo gave it some owl treats and tied the reply to its leg. When this was done, it flew off into the sky.
"Can you open the floo for Potter?" Theo asked Draco. "I told him to come over."
"I can't be bothered," Draco muttered obstinately.
"You need to alter the wards," Theo argued. "If you won't do it for me or for him, do it for Hermione. That's the whole reason he's written, remember?"
"Fine," Draco grumbled. "Where's my wand?" He looked around.
"Oh, that's right," Theo remembered. "I confiscated that the day after Pria came and fetched me." He reached into the holster under his jacket where he had been keeping it and offered it cautiously to his friend, eyeing him closely.
Draco made the series of wand movements and uttered the charm that would grant Harry access, then dropped his wand beside him on the couch. "It's done."
"I hope so," Theo quipped. "If you've bolloxed it up and he somehow gets stuck halfway or ends up somewhere else, you'll have all the Weasleys after you."
"Oh, goody." Draco snorted.
An hour or so later, Pria entered with Harry in tow. "Mister Harry Potter be here, Master Malfoy," she announced timidly, regarding the bespectacled wizard with awe.
Harry smiled slightly to himself. He had become accustomed to the reactions he seemed to inspire in house elves.
"Eh," grunted Draco.
Frowning at Draco's lack of manners, Theo crossed the room and offered his hand to Harry, who shook it without hesitation.
"Thank you offering to try and help, Potter," Theo acknowledged. "Draco appreciates your help too, even if he thinks he doesn't."
Harry glanced over at Draco, lying prostrate on the couch, before turning back to Theo. "Can you fill me in?" he asked.
"Sure. Take a seat." Theo offered. "Pria, can you bring tea, please?"
Pria nodded enthusiastically. "Would Mister Harry Potter be liking any food?"
Harry was going to decline, but the elf looked so hopeful he felt guilty saying no. Instead, he smiled and said, "A snack would be lovely, thank you Pria."
The elf beamed and excitedly exited the room as Harry sat in an armchair, with Theo taking the one beside him. He listened carefully as Theo explained Pansy's interference, the nature of the contract and what avenues they had explored so far.
While they were talking, Pria had returned with the tea and a plate piled high with sandwiches and pastries, causing Harry's eyes to widen in amazement. I should have brought Ron with me, he thought to himself in mild amusement as he selected a pastry.
Sipping his tea, Harry thought carefully about the information Theo had given him.
"Does the senior relative have to be descended from the Malfoys, or can it be any blood relative?" he checked.
Theo furrowed his brow in thought. "I believe it can be any blood relative," he confirmed.
"Well, what about Andromeda Tonks?" Harry suggested.
"Andromeda…?" Theo echoed.
"Yes, Andromeda. She's Tonks' mum. She took on the role of guardian to Teddy after Tonks and Remus were killed."
"Teddy?" Theo asked, now thoroughly confused.
"Oh. I suppose you might not have known," Harry realised. "Remus - Professor Lupin - married one of the other Order of the Phoenix members, Nymphadora Tonks. She was a metamorphmagus. They had a son, Edward, but called him Teddy for short," he explained. "During the battle of Hogwarts they were both killed. I'm his godfather, but because Andromeda is his grandmother and because I was only seventeen when his parents died, it was agreed she would take care of him in the interim."
Draco had been dozing on the couch, not really paying attention, so had missed most of the conversation. Now, however, he sat up sightly, squinting at Harry.
"Wait… Andromeda?" he asked.
"Yes." Harry nodded. She's your aunt, isn't she?"
Slowly, Draco pulled himself upright. "She is," he replied slowly.
"Andromeda…" Theo hummed. "Wait! Wasn't she your mum's sister? A Black?"
"She got disowned for marrying a muggle-born," Draco remembered. "No one from my family has talked to her for years. When mum died, they were still estranged. I don't remember seeing her at the funeral."
"Her husband, Ted, was murdered not long before the battle." Harry added. "He went on the run when the Ministry introduced the Muggle-Born Registration Commission, but was caught by snatchers. They killed him. After the war, Andromeda decided to take Teddy and live in the States for a few years, until things settled down. They're still living over there."
Draco, who had momentarily felt a spark of hope, slumped as he considered the situation. "But she was disowned," he pointed out. "Even if she were to come back to help me - and I don't see why she would, as we've never even met - she's been cut from the Black family completely."
"Well, maybe not," Theo countered. "Blood magic continues even if someone has been cut off from the rest of their family. The Black line is very old, so it's possible she may be able to act in place of your parents."
"Do you think it will work?" Draco asked cautiously.
"I don't know," Harry replied. "I don't know a lot about blood magic." He paused for a moment, thinking. "But I bet Neville's grandmother does."
"Longbottom? Wasn't that buffoon terrified of his grandmother?" Draco scoffed.
"Yes, Longbottom." Harry frowed. "Don't call him a buffoon. He's become a damn good wizard. And everyone was terrified of Augusta. She's a formidable woman. But, if I recall correctly, the Longbottoms are one of the sacred twenty-eight."
"That's right," Theo nodded. "They are."
"Well, Neville's grandmother is a very powerful and intelligent witch," Harry reasoned, "and despite her age, she commands a lot of respect and influence. If anyone would know how to get you out of this contract, it would be her."
"Can you get in touch with her?" Theo checked.
Harry nodded. "I'll owl her this evening and ask if she is available. Can I bring her here?" He looked at Draco for confirmation.
"Sure." Draco nodded, feeling cautiously optimistic for the first time since Pansy had ruined everything with her revelation. "I'll adjust the wards so you can floo or apparate in."
Harry stood. "Right, I'd better be off. Thank Pria for the tea and food, would you? It was delicious."
"She'll be pleased to hear it," Draco said. "She's a good little elf. She misses Hermione. I do, too." He looked sadly down at his hands.
Fidgeting awkwardly, Harry said, "Well, I'll owl once I've heard from Augusta and make further arrangements." He was almost to the door when Draco called him back.
"Thanks, Potter," he acknowledged. "I doubt we would have thought of any of this without your involvement."
"Like I said in my letter," Harry replied. "I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it for Hermione. If this works, it'll give you one chance to fix what you broke. Don't fuck it up."
With that, Harry made his way to the foyer and floo'ed away from Malfoy manor.
The following afternoon, Draco found himself facing the indomitable Augusta Longbottom.
Harry, true to his word, had gotten in contact with the older witch and she had agreed to meet with Draco as soon as possible. Now, she sat across from him, a teacup balanced delicately on her lap and scrutinising him closely.
"You were a rather unpleasant child, as I recall," she stated bluntly. "Neville used to tell me about all the horrible things you got up to. I can't say I'm surprised, given who your father was. Lucius always was a lowly snake and a nasty man."
Draco had the decency to blush. "Well. Um. Yes," he stammered. Merlin, she was terrifying.
"Never mind that now. It's in the past," Augusta declared, waving a hand dismissively "Now. Tell me about this marriage contract."
The witch listened attentively as Draco explained the problem and the possible solution Harry had come up with, nodding as he talked.
"And you love another?" she asked, eyeing him.
"I do," Draco stated bluntly. Harry looked at him in shock.
"How are you surprised, Potter?" Theo interjected in repose to Harry's expression. "It's bloody obvious he's head over heels for her. How the hell you managed to survive on the run from Voldemort when you're so unobservant, I'll never know." He snorted.
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but shut it again quickly under the glare Augusta sent his way.
"Mister Potter seems to be the only clever one here." She sniffed. "How neither of you thought of Andromeda immediately, I do not know. She's the obvious choice as Mister Malfoy's only living senior relative."
Theo and Draco hung their heads, embarrassed.
"No matter," The witch continued. "Andromeda will certainly be able to act as the officiating person to unbind the contract. The Black line holds very powerful magic. But," she cautioned, "the unbinding will only work if at least one of the betrothed truly loves another, and then only if the other's magic is destined to merge with theirs."
"How will we know if Hermione's magic is destined to merge with Malfoy's?" Harry asked. "I can't convince her to even talk about him, let alone see him - at least not while he's still bound to Pansy."
"She doesn't need to be in the same room with him," Augusta said reassuringly. "You just need a small vial of her blood. We brew a simple potion, adding her blood and Mister Malfoy's. This test will determine their compatibility and also serve as the final key to unbind the contract."
"And how will we know if it's worked?" Draco asked.
Augusta looked at him pityingly. "Did your parents not teach you anything about blood magic, boy?" she replied. "If your magic is destined to merge with Miss Granger's, your blood will entwine and the potion will turn a royal purple colour."
"What will happen if they aren't compatible?" Theo checked.
"The magic in each of their blood samples will repel the other," Augusta explained. "If an attempt is made to force them to join, it will cause a devastating explosion." She considered. "It's quite dangerous."
"A risk I'm willing to take," Draco declared.
Augusta nodded. "Very well. I'll go and see that old fool Parkinson. You, Mister Potter—" she looked at Harry "—contact Andromeda and explain the situation. I know she'll be happy to help, and finally meet her nephew."
She stood, her gaze sweeping over the other occupants. "Good day to you all. I shall see myself out." The witch donned her signature hat with the vulture perched atop, placed her handbag over her arm and walked briskly from the room.
November 17th
"Come on, Hermione. I just need one vial," Harry begged.
"What's the point? It's ridiculous to even consider the possibility that this will work," Hermione argued.
Harry had come to her that morning and asked for a vial of her blood. When she had inquired as to what the reason was for his request, he had been cagey at first before finally admitting it was to see if she was compatible with Malfoy.
"You might as well brew a love potion for all the effectiveness it would have," she snorted.
"Hermione! This is coming from Neville's grandmother! She's the most upfront person I know, and she's got no tolerance for bullshit. You know that!"
"Augusta told you about this? And you didn't think to mention that first?" Hermione chided. "Who else is involved in this circus?"
"Andromeda, too," Harry admitted.
Hermione huffed disgustedly. "I really don't want the whole of Wizarding London knowing my personal business, Harry!"
"It's not the whole of Wizarding London!" argued Harry. "It's just Theo, Blaise, all the Weasleys, Augusta, Andromeda, me, the people who Theo asked previously for help..."
"Stop, Harry!" Hermione held up her hand in annoyance.
"Please, Hermione?" Harry tried again. "If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. But they need your blood to confirm whether you and Malfoy are compatible, or the unbinding won't work even with Andromeda acting as his senior relative."
She sighed. "Fine. But only because Augusta suggested it," Hermione grumbled. Summoning a vial from her bathroom, she used her wand to make a small cut on her inner forearm and allowed the trail of blood to flow into it. Replacing the stopper, she handed it to Harry.
"Thanks, Hermione." He smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to be there?"
She shook her head decisively. "I'd rather not be let down." She sighed. "Knowing you're trying is bad enough."
"Okay," Harry relented. "I'll talk to you later." He gave his friend a tight hug before stepping back. "For what it's worth, I'd like to think ferret-boy's blood will get along with yours just fine."
Placing the vial carefully in his robes, Harry kissed Hermione's cheek and stepped through the floo.
Back at Malfoy manor that evening, a small group huddled anxiously around the cauldron bubbling away on the countertop. Augusta had brewed the potion herself, and was tending to it carefully.
Andromeda had arrived from the States via international portkey earlier that day, having left Teddy in the care of some friends. She had had an emotional first meeting with her nephew, noting tearfully that he reminded her of Narcissa.
Pansy was there with her father, sulking despite the knowledge she would be free to marry whomever she wished should the unbinding be achieved.
"Do you have Miss Ganger's sample, Mister Potter?" Augusta asked in a businesslike manner.
"Yes ma'am," Harry replied, passing her the vial.
Taking it and removing the stopper, she looked to Draco. "Add your blood, if you would, Mister Malfoy," she instructed briskly.
Draco made a small cut on his hand and held it over the cauldron, allowing his blood to dribble into the potion. At the same time, August gently added Hermione's.
"Everyone take one step back, please," Augusta ordered.
The rest of the party moved away cautiously as the potion began to bubble and steam. Leaning forward, Augusta peeked over the rim and smiled triumphantly. "It would appear we have been successful," she announced.
Everyone crowded forward again to look. The two streams of blood were swirling around each other, curling and weaving in and out. Suddenly, they sank beneath the surface of the potion and the liquid shimmered, gradually changing to the royal purple colour the elder witch had earlier described.
Laughing, Theo clapped Draco, who was speechless, on the back.
"I never did care for these ridiculous marriage contracts, anyway," Augusta sniffed. "Just another pointless idea thought up by ancient wizards who were far too obsessed with purity and image, thinking they knew best."
Turning to Andromeda and Parkinson senior, she indicated a copy of the contract the Malfoy and Parkinson elders had signed so many years ago. "Parkinson. Andromeda. If you would place your magical signatures upon the parchment. Parkinson, you must declare as Miss Parkinson's senior relative you unbind her from the contract. Andromeda, you must make the same declaration for Mister Malfoy."
Andromeda and Parkinson senior stepped forward to to as instructed. At the same time, Augusta inserted a dropper into the potion at her elbow and drew up some of the liquid. As the two senior relatives completed their part, Augusta squeezed the bulb of the stopper over the parchment, allowing the potion to drip over the words written there.
With a hiss, the liquid sank into the parchment, and for a moment nothing happened. The group held their breath, waiting. Suddenly, the parchment burst into flames. In but a moment, there was nothing left of the contract but ash.
"It is done," declared Augusta. "Mister Malfoy and Miss Parkinson are no longer bound by a marriage contract."