The Contract

Chapter Twenty Six – First Night Back at Hogwart’s



The evening that Dobby was found was chaotic at best. Between the Aurors, Severus, Remus, the Weasleys, Draco, packing, and being sick three times more before he fell into bed, Draco was ready for a quiet trip to King’s Cross, rounded out with a nice eight hour ride to his school.



But he should have known better, really. The new clothes had arrived just as predicted. They were sorted and taken to each of their rooms, just before a Floo message came through that the delivery men would be there momentarily. The doorbell rang, but when Ron opened it, all that was there was five rather interesting trunks. Each had a different set of initials on it, one each for Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Draco.



“Draco, dear, do you know who would be purchasing trunks for my other children?”



Blushing slightly, he said, “It was me. And before you say a word, it’s done. They are personalized and they’re paid for.” Another ‘crack’ was heard from the porch. When Ginny opened that door, there sat two Nimbus series broom hovering the perfect height for riding. “And that would be the rest of it. Mrs. Weasley, if you won’t let me do it for you, let me do this for them. I could not have survived the past few weeks without this family. I don’t mean figuratively; I mean literally.” Draco sat back with his arms crossed and tried not to be sick in her living room.



Taking a deep breath, she said simply, “Alright dear. Don’t get upset about all this. We’ll work it out later.”



“Can we keep them then mom?” She nodded, Ginny squealed, Ron cursed, and Draco puked again.



When he finished, Molly waved her wand and the sick was gone from the floor. “Its just nerves. I’m sorry Molly.”



“Don’t worry about a thing, just go up and get everything packed and ready for tomorrow. Arthur says that the Ministry will be providing cars and we will leave here promptly at 9:00.” Nodding the group, with new trunks in tow, made their way to their rooms to pack.





The next morning was worse, if possible than the evening before. Draco was violently ill. Ginny was crying. Hermione couldn’t find one of her books. Ron was missing a trainer. Pigwidgeon had gotten out of his cage and was flying near the rafters. Hedwig bit anyone who attempted to put her into her cage. Molly was shrieking for everyone to get downstairs. And Arthur sat quietly at the kitchen table sipping tea and reading the Daily Prophet as though this were the same morning he had every day.



It only stopped when there was a rather loud “BOOM” from that same kitchen table. The rushing, squawking, shrieking, searching, and puking came to an abrupt end when the sound was hear. Four teenagers and one adult rushed into the kitchen with wands drawn. Arthur, still sitting calmly at the table smiled. “Ahh, yes, I thought that might get your attention.



“Come and sit down, everyone. We will have a pinch of breakfast and a spot of tea then you will get in the rather fine limousines that Draco secured for our journey to King’s Cross. Anything gone missing will be sent to you. Hedwig will stay here until Harry joins you at school. Pigwidgeon will be sent with a package.”



The teenagers stared at him while Molly smiled indulgently. But everyone sat and ate, then got into the cars and made their way to Kings Cross in new clothing, carrying new trunks, filled with new…everything.





It was odd to think that Draco and the others split when they boarded the train. Draco went off to the Slytherin area while Ginny met Dean. Hermione and Ron made their way to the back of the train to find an empty compartment. The ride was uneventful for the first hour or so, and then there was a knock on Hermione and Ron’s door.



Opening it slowly, Draco came in. “Can I have a lie down in here? I don’t feel well and the other compartments are a bit packed. And I am so tired of being asked what’s wrong with me… or if it was time to go harass Potter.” His voice broke at the name but otherwise remained his normal resonance.



“Is everything else going well?” Hermione asked tentatively.



“I suppose.” Draco sat on the bench, stood, transformed the seat to a mattress and pillow, and lay down. “Would you laugh at me if I told you that since I am the new Lord Malfoy and all the wealth and power that brings, Parkinson will not stop touching me?”



Ron grinned. “Uh, no mate, that sounds horrible.”



“Too right it does. I don’t like to be touched, at all, and I couldn't get that bloody bird to leave me alone. I…thanks for letting me stay in here.” The two nodded and within minutes, Draco was lying asleep on the other bench.







“Why is he so sick?” Ron whispered.



“I think he is just ill over everything that happened in August. It was hard for him. Then he was picked over for Head Boy, his Prefect Status was revoked, and his parents were killed. Its just a bit much.”



“Not to mention that he lived at the Burrow for a few weeks, bonded and broke that bond with Harry, developed real feelings for him, and now has to leave him in the hospital, where he won’t even respond to letters sent.” Ron said thoughtfully.



They were quiet when Draco called for Harry in his sleep a few hours later. They were moving when Draco thrashed about on the bench. Ron caught him when he almost fell of the same bench. And Hermione vanished the sick when he was ill again.



“When we get to Hogwart’s, Draco Malfoy, you will not go to the Great Hall, you will be going to the Hospital Wing to see Madame Pomfrey. Do you understand me?” Hermione had her ‘Molly’ voice on and there would be no argument. The train pulled into the station hours later. Draco still looked a bit ‘green around the gills’ and Ron heaved both trunks to the carriage. Draco got in quietly and said nothing more.



During the Feast, Draco sat on a bed in the hospital wing talking to the Healer and Professor Snape. They agreed that it was best, for now, to not let anyone else know of the pregnancy. He would keep his head down and stay out of trouble. Severus promised to secure a private set of quarters for him immediately. When he left, Poppy looked into the gray eyes. “What can I do?”



“Make him love me.” Draco was still staring after Severus, at the closed door. Coming back to himself, he looked into a face full of shock and wonder. “Not the Professor, Harry. He hates me.” He hoped it was enough to clear up the confusion.



Madame Pomfrey’s face softened, just before she blushed. “Of course, you meant Harry. I’m sorry dear. I am sure he will return soon and maybe things can work out between you. If not, you seem to have made good friends along the way.” She said as the doors opened, yet again, to allow Ron, Hermione, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson into the wing. “I won’t tell them anything, I promise.”



Draco nodded. “I have a bit of a sick stomach. Pomfrey will heal me right up. So, since I didn’t make Head Boy, who did?” He asked, trying to change the subject.



Pansy sat next to him, he moved to where she couldn’t touch him. She noticed but did not try to move closer. “It was the idiot, Justin Finch-Fletchly and Head Girl is Hannah Abbott. And if you think I cared one bit, you're wrong. There are many more things we have to deal with than whether we are Head Boy and Girl this year, Draco.”



She reached to take his hand. As soon as she brushed his fingers, he stood and moved away from the group. Coming to a decision, he turned and looked at them. “I don’t want you to touch me again, Pansy. I told you that on the train. I cannot make this more plain. I don’t want you. Period. There is no betrothal coming. There is NOTHING I want or need from you. It has been a very difficult summer and I have found that when someone touches me, I want to hurt that person. So, I am telling you all, right now, that I don’t want you to sit so close we ‘brush’ thighs, don’t hug me, don’t try to hold my hand. Are we clear on that?”



She looked as though she wanted to cry, but nodded without saying anything.



Blaise looked into the dilated gray eyes of his friend, “Draco, when did you become friends with Weasel and the Mud…”



With a wand pointed at his heart, Draco said clearly, “Do not call her that again. She and Ron Weasley have supported me the past month…”



“Like we have your entire life?” Pansy interrupted him. “What the hell is going on here? Why are you suddenly friends with her?”



“Because she isn’t a cow like you are Parkinson. Because when my parents were put to death for..." His voice faltered for a moment, then continued without say exactly for WHAT Lucius had been executed, "executed over the summer, Severus took me to them and they took me in. They stayed with me in the hospital and gave me a safe place to stay when my parents were executed! Do you think I would just turn my back on them? You didn’t send me ONE OWL. Why was that? Because there were no funerals. There was no fanfare in the press. You couldn't get your picture in the Prophet hanging off my arm properly grieving. You were not my friend then and you aren't now. Now, you just think we will forget the summer and go back to the way things were last year? You are out of your…”





“Draco, enough." It was Ron. He had crossed the room and stood between the blonde and his friends. He was big enough that he blocked Draco from their view. Draco’s eyes were filled with tears. “You’ve been sick for days. Maybe...” his voice raised a few octaves. “Madame Pomfrey will keep you overnight to watch you.”



The Healer bustled into the room, taking her cue from the redhead, who did not move to allow the others to see his weakness, and shuffled everyone out of the room, except Ron and Draco. When the doors closed, Draco collapsed into sobs in his friend’s arms. Once again, picking him up, Ron carried him to his bed and laid him gently on it.



He heard a weak, “Thank you,” before the Healer escorted out Ron. When she returned, he said, “Poppy, will the hormones always be this bad?”



She smiled at him, and said, “Yes, but you get used to them after awhile. It all evens out around the seventh month… which is when you give birth.” Smiling, she gave him a potion to help him calm down and relax, which he took only after she assured him it was safe for the baby.







Outside the doors, hell was about to break loose. Ron closed the door silently and saw Hermione was toe to toe with Pansy Parkinson. The Slytherin boys stood watching as though it were an interesting play. “Look you mudblood bitch. He is mine, so you can just take your filthy paws somewhere else!”



“He doesn’t want you! Why can’t you just let it go?”



“Because he is the richest man in the general Wizarding world.”



“Found out through the Daily Prophet?”



“No, my mother’s servant girl. She heard from someone else that when Lucius and Narcissa were put to death, that he inherited the lot. And nothing and no one will stand between me and that prize.” Her words were confident and scathing. Her mother had told her to secure Draco Malfoy or else. Since she didn’t like the ‘what else’ tone her mother had used, she had to do this, or at least she thought she did until Hermione started this conversation.



“If I find that you have continued to pursue him, hurt him, or embarrassed him in anyway, you will find that I am truly the smartest witch of the age for a reason.” Advancing, the way she had seen Ginny do on countless occasions, she could have taken a moment to be pleased that Pansy stepped back. “I will not allow you to hurt him anymore. If, at some point, he decides that he wants you, I will be very glad to support him in that. But for now, you,” step, “will” step “leave” step “him” step, “alone.” Crack, Pansy backed into a wall. “Or I will hurt you very badly. Do we understand one another?”



The Slytherin seventh year boys and Ron smiled when Pansy squeaked out her agreement.





A few moments later, on their way back to their dorms, Ron pulled her into an alcove and proceeded to snog her until she was limp in his arms and he was hard as could be. And while they didn’t finish what was started, they both were quite content with its beginning.