For a long moment, no one spoke or moved as they all stared at Tracey in shock. Finally, Draco broke the silence.
"Er…Trace? Perhaps you could fill me in, because I don't exactly remember proposing to you? I know a lot of ridiculous stuff happens during Quidditch parties, but…"
"It's not a bloody joke, Draco!" Tracey snapped. That shut Draco up immediately – Tracey almost never swore to begin with, and she'd just done so, without hesitation, in front of the headmaster. Something was definitely wrong.
"Perhaps we should all sit down, and then Miss Davis can explain?" Dumbledore suggested. The six teenagers mutely took their seats, and everyone else immediately turned to Tracey, who shuddered and wrung her hands nervously before speaking.
"I only just found out about it, I swear," she began. "You remember how the D.A. threw me a birthday party for my seventeenth just before the holidays?" The others nodded.
"So you're a legal adult in the Wizarding world now, like I am," Hermione said. Tracey nodded.
"Yes. There was a second celebration at my house over the holidays – not with friends, though; most of the guests were business acquaintances of my father's. After the party, my father took me to his study and told me about the contract."
"Contract?" Draco asked.
"It's a marriage contract – our fathers drew it up when we were still infants," Tracey explained. "He told me that now that I was seventeen, I needed to know about my obligations, and that I was to inform you as well, since he didn't trust your, and I quote, 'blood traitor guardian' to do so."
"Bugger," Blaise grumbled under his breath. Ginny, who was closest, gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. This conversation couldn't have been comfortable for him to begin with – Tracey was his longtime girlfriend, after all – but to hear on top of that that said girlfriend was betrothed to one of his best mates? Ouch.
"Blaise?" Hermione said quietly, sensing that he had more to say. Blaise sighed and ran a hand over his face.
"Given my dear mother's ability to go through husbands like none other, I'm rather more familiar with Wizarding contracts than I'd like to be," he said. "Not necessarily marriage contracts, per se, as none of her marriages were arranged, but there have still been plenty of legal matters to settle. Wizarding contracts are almost impossible to break, and I suspect that marriage agreements are the same." Blaise looked to Dumbledore for confirmation, and the headmaster nodded.
"Wizarding marriage contracts cannot be broken unless under very specific circumstances," Dumbledore said. "The affected parties can only mutually dissolve the contract if all who wrote it are deceased, and as is obvious given that Miss Davis only recently spoke to her father, that is not the case here."
"So even once I turn seventeen in June, we still won't be able to do anything about it?" Draco asked.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Black, but so long as Tracey's father lives, that route is unavailable to you," Dumbledore said apologetically.
"What about a loophole?" Harry demanded. "Or a contractual error?"
"We could examine the contract for one, of course, but those involved in a betrothal's creation tend to take extra precautions against such things," Dumbledore warned. "Breaking this contract will not be easy."
"Who called for the betrothal, Trace?" Blaise asked.
"What do you mean?" Tracey looked confused.
"Did your family petition the Malfoys for the contract, or was it the other way around?"
"My father approached Lucius," Tracey said. "He told me that when he told me about the contract – said an alliance with the Malfoys would be good for our standing, and of course he added that it might help us both – Draco and I, that is – come to our senses, as it were." She looked apologetic.
"Because your father knows you don't sympathize with the Death Eaters, and he probably knows of Draco's connection to Harry – Merlin knows everyone else does." Blaise looked thoughtful.
"Why did you want to know who'd asked for the betrothal, Blaise?" Ginny asked.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Professor, but marriage contracts aren't really that popular anymore, from what I understand," he replied. When the headmaster confirmed this thought, Blaise added, "I read up on them a bit a few years ago when I was doing research about a different agreement related to my mother's fifth husband. Seems that once we hit the twentieth century, even the staunchest of purebloods were demanding the freedom to select their own spouses – they were still determined only to marry other purebloods, which kept the number of potential candidates small, but they wanted to be able to make the final choice for themselves. Prior to that, there are plenty of documented cases of unhappy marriages and even abuse, because the couple had nothing in common, or, in some cases, one party was in love with someone else instead. Pureblood society had never really frowned on the idea of keeping a mistress, but bastard children greatly complicate things, since they can't inherit. There were also problems when one of the partners died before the wedding – from childhood illness, for example. This left the surviving partner with two choices: stay single for life, as it was almost a guarantee that all the other members of his or her peer group were already contractually betrothed; or risk disgrace and disinheritance by marrying outside of the 'acceptable' circle."
"Wow, Blaise," Harry muttered. "You should consider going into Wizarding law."
"I quite agree," Dumbledore said with a slight chuckle. "Mr. Zabini, you would certainly make a fine legal representative one day, I can tell you that. Everything you just said about marriage contracts is the truth – they are much rarer than they used to be because, as you just told us, they caused an extraordinary number of problems that far outweighed the supposed benefits."
"While this little history lesson has certainly been informative, it's not exactly helping with our current situation, sir," Draco said, perhaps a little more bluntly than was strictly polite.
"Yes, it has," Hermione insisted before Dumbledore could reply. "We now know what we're up against. We know that marriage contracts are far from commonplace, and we know that Tracey's father was the one to petition it – if we can find out why he insisted on such an outdated practice, that might bring us closer to finding a way to break it. I don't think we'll be able to find out why the Malfoys agreed to it, as we have no way of speaking to them…oh wait!" she said suddenly. "Dragon, what about that portrait of your mother?"
"She wouldn't know," Draco said, shaking his head. "At least, I don't think she would – that portrait was painted long before I was born, and the subject only knows what she's heard over the years, which I doubt include discussions of my betrothal."
"You don't think the real Narcissa might've talked to her about it?" Ginny questioned. "Didn't you say, before the other portraits were frozen, that your mother's portrait form was able to move from Lucius' study to a second frame in Narcissa's rooms, and that the two would talk?"
"I'm not sure that the real Narcissa knew," Tracey admitted. "The contract was drawn up and signed only by our fathers, not our mothers."
"Another very pureblood notion, to be sure," Dumbledore said. "Women weren't supposed to have a say in such things, and so I'm not surprised that the contract contains only the fathers' signatures."
"I feel like a possession, auctioned off to the highest bidder without any thought to what I actually want," Tracey muttered in distaste.
"You and many others before you, my dear," Dumbledore said sympathetically.
"Tracey, can you get us a copy of that contract?" Hermione asked. "We won't be able to work on breaking it if we don't have the exact wording."
"You should be able to," Blaise said. "You're seventeen, and the contract directly affects you – legally, you're entitled to as many copies as you'd like."
"I'll get on that, then," Tracey agreed. She paused then, looking upset once more. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," Draco reassured her. "We know you weren't the one who arranged it, and we'll do our best to get us out of this mess."
"I just don't want to take away your chance at happiness," Tracey said, the tears threatening to spill over once again. "It's not fair."
"No, it's not. But we'll make it work – somehow."
That very night, Blaise helped Tracey draft a letter to the appropriate people asking for copies of her betrothal contract – Draco offered them Berenice, as neither of the other two Slytherins owned owls, and the beautiful tawny bird took off with the envelope the next morning. After his first class, Draco returned to the Slytherin dormitories for his latest tutoring session with Theodore Nott – Nott's Charms work had improved significantly since Draco had begun tutoring him, but the dark-haired boy insisted that they keep up the sessions to help him maintain his higher marks. They had an exam in the subject the following Tuesday, and so Draco began sorting his notes to prioritize with what he knew Flitwick would be asking. Nott arrived shortly thereafter, and the two boys began their study session, methodically working through wand movements and incantations. Draco corrected a pronunciation here and there, but Nott was far more competent – and confident – than he'd been even just a few weeks ago.
Halfway through a discussion about Color-Changing Charms, the dormitory door opened, Pansy Parkinson silhouetted in the frame.
"Can we help you with something, Parkinson?" Draco asked coolly. "We're in the middle of a study session."
"Can't a girl say hello to her boyfriend?" Pansy replied. She sauntered over to Nott and slid herself in between his body and the table so that she was straddling his lap and began to place wet kisses all over his face and neck. Her dark eyes, however, remained on Draco as much as possible, and the blond had to refrain from snorting. She'd been failing at this game for years now – was she ever going to get the bloody hint?
"Pansy, darling, I really do need to revise for this exam," Nott drawled, though he tried very little in the way of pushing her off. Pansy pouted, sticking her bottom lip out as far as it could go for maximum effect, but Nott merely shook his head and lifted her off his lap with a gentle but firm grip on her hips.
"Later, dearest," he said. "Run along and find Millie – it's almost time for class, is it not?"
"Still twenty minutes yet," Pansy replied almost petulantly. Nott sighed heavily.
"Studying, Pans," he reminded her.
"Yeah, whatever." Pansy waved her hand dismissively. "I still don't understand why you feel the need to study with him, Theo – unless, of course, Draco has seen the error of his ways?" She sounded a little too hopeful for someone who was talking to her supposed boyfriend.
"Not likely, seeing as there was no 'error' in the first place," Draco replied smoothly. Pansy scowled.
"I told you that you would regret treating me badly someday, Draco," she all but snapped. "Cavorting with Mudbloods and blood traitors – you disgust me."
"Nothing I haven't heard before, Pansy dearest." Even Pansy couldn't miss Draco's blatant sarcasm, and she sniffed haughtily and stuck her nose in the air. Without so much as a nod in farewell, she wrenched open the door and slammed it forcefully behind her before stalking off, her angry footfalls audible even from a distance.
"Please excuse Pansy," Nott said nonchalantly. "She can be a bit…dramatic. Shall we continue?" Draco stared at the door for a long moment, wondering whether it was worth the aggravation known as Pansy Parkinson to continue tutoring Nott, before nodding and turning back to his textbook. There were only fifteen minutes left until the bell rang, anyway – he was pretty sure he could survive fifteen minutes.
Tracey's copy of the contract came a few days later, and the friends wasted no time poring over the parchment's contents. Most of it was legal jargon they didn't understand – Hermione was already making a list of library books she thought might contain helpful information – but the gist of the contract was quite simple: Draco and Tracey were to be married on a mutually agreed-upon date as soon after their seventh year ended as possible.
"Wizards like getting married young, don't they?" Harry mused as they studied the contract. His parents, the Weasleys, and the Malfoys, among many others, had all married in their late teens.
"Well, when the purpose of a pureblooded marriage is to produce an heir, you don't want to waste any time," Blaise said. "Just because witches tend to live longer than Muggle women doesn't mean they can bear children for longer, and of course they need to make sure that they produce a healthy child – miscarriages and stillborn children are, unfortunately, very common in pureblood families due to all the inbreeding."
"Does it matter that the contract names him as Draco Lucius Malfoy?" Hermione asked, pointing to the passage in question. "He hasn't gone by that name for twelve years now." Blaise shook his head.
"I may not know as much about marriage contracts as I do about other types of agreements, but I do know that a name change isn't enough to get you out of anything like this," he said. "Black, Malfoy, he's still the same person, and thus still obligated to fulfill the terms."
Draco sighed. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the task of breaking this contract was looking more impossible by the minute.
Unfortunately for Draco and his friends, demanding schedules filled with classes, homework, Quidditch, patrols, and D.A. meetings left very little spare time to work on the contract. In mid-February, a notice on the common room message boards added yet another activity to their already busy lives, but this one was something they were all looking forward to – Apparition lessons. Given his poor reactions to Side-Along Apparition, Harry was a little more apprehensive than most, but he hoped that he might have an easier time with the real thing, and so he signed his name after Hermione's on the enrollment sheet. The first lesson was scheduled for the last Saturday in February, and those students who would be seventeen by the start of the following school year crowded into the Great Hall, eager to begin. Their instructor, a wispy little man called Wilkie Twycross, told them to spread out so that they had sufficient space all around them, and once everyone had gotten into position, he began.
"The most important things to remember when Apparating," he said, "Are the three D's – Destination, Determination, and Deliberation. You must fix your destination firmly in your mind, and move through space with determination and deliberation. Now, as I am sure you are all well aware, it is normally impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within the Hogwarts grounds – for these lessons, that restriction will be lifted only during the hour designated for the class, and only in the Great Hall. You will not be able to Apparate outside this room, and attempting to do so could easily result in something far worse than Splinching. Now, please focus on your hoops" – he waved his wand, and a plain wooden hoop appeared before each student – "and concentrate fully on your determination to occupy the space within!"
The lesson was a bit of a disaster, truth be told – the most exciting thing that happened was Susan Bones Splinching herself halfway through, one leg left behind while the rest of her balanced precariously in her hoop. Aside from that, nobody managed even a semblance of Apparition, but Twycross was not discouraged.
"Never mind," he said. "Perhaps some of you will succeed next week. Until then, remember the three D's – Destination, Determination, Deliberation!"
"I think they should add 'dizzy' in there somewhere," Tracey muttered as they waited in the entrance hall while the Great Hall was reset for lunch.
"I agree," Blaise said as he massaged his temples. "And if I have to fall on my arse on that stone floor one more time…"
"You're not supposed to be falling on your arse at all," Tracey said with a snort.
"Yeah, well, I don't have the best balance, alright?"
"Oh, shut up, you two," Draco cut in. "You can worry about whether or not you're supposed to be falling on your arse next week – for now, let's eat." Harry and Hermione laughed while Blaise and Tracey looked sheepish, and the five friends hurried to their respective tables as soon as lunch was ready. They passed an enjoyable afternoon playing Exploding Snap before the Gryffindors headed out for Quidditch practice. Blaise and Tracey were going to the library to look for more information about marriage contracts, and Draco had another tutoring session with Nott – why his housemate wanted to study on a Saturday when they usually didn't work together on weekends was beyond him, but as all of his other friends were otherwise occupied, Draco didn't really have an excuse to say no. The study session went by quickly without any unwelcome interruptions, and once Nott had left, citing a meeting with Slughorn, Draco passed the remaining time until dinner immersed in a book Ginny had given him for Christmas.
During dinner, Blaise and Tracey told Draco about what they'd found in the library – it wasn't much, but they'd found one book in particular that would be a big help in translating all the legal terms for them. Draco agreed that this was definitely a step in the right direction, and he felt marginally better as he cut into his chicken. His peace was interrupted, however, by an all-too-familiar head of dark hair and a pug-like nose, which invaded his personal space with an angry hiss not five minutes later.
"What did you do to him?" Pansy demanded.
"What did I do to who, Parkinson?" Draco asked, wasting no time in pushing her back to a more respectable distance.
"Theo," she replied. "Theo's in the hospital wing and I know he was with you right before he met with Slughorn."
"All we worked on today was Silencing Charms, and those aren't enough to land someone in the hospital wing," Draco said with a frown. "What's wrong with him?" Pansy's face was red with anger.
"He's been poisoned, you stupid prat! And don't you dare act like you don't know how it happened!"
A/N: Well, well, well...sorry guys, the contract isn't going to resolve itself so easily! And what's the deal with Pansy's accusation? Hmm...
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JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R&R, & enjoy! :)